I am on a Diet

Indeed. The D word. such stigma. It conjures...i don't know this: anal retentiveness. vanity. a puritanical disdain for pleasure. It pictures to me the concession to middle age when we have forfeited the incessant consumption of youth and its utter ignorance of consequence and taken up the mantle of the Ice Man Cometh, of promises perpetually made and forever broken, ruthless cycles of New Year's Resolutions, and the fool target of multibillion dollar vultures who use gym membership, shakes composed of saltine cracker debris, methamphetamines, veganism as a shrill cover up for eating disorders, anything anything! to devour you, the gullible, guilt plagued inert outflow product of wanton american greed and the easy way. It is a deadly cliche.



All such things of course reveal the countours and kinks of my own neuroses as much (more) than of my binge-purge society. Meh, what are you going to do.

My body, its a good piece of work. Its only got 27 years and a couple hundred miles on it. After spending the last several years meticulously reviewing all the horrible possibilities of illness and monstrous betrayals of genetics, I have become tremendously grateful for health, and humbled by how quickly it can and does flit away. (Death, dudes. Its totally going to happen). But so far, a little asthma, a touch of neurosis, minor scratches and a rather unfortunate intolerance of this particularly excellent local brand of hot salsa (I'm sooooooorry everyone who had to sit within a 4 foot radius of me during my impassioned 1 year denial of this, but it was so tasty!) but over all good working parts. Lungs fill up with air, heart pumps, limbs move. My body works hard for me, carrying heavy books, sitting long uncomfortable hours squinting at small writing, listening carefully to heart sounds, staying up for 36 hour call shifts, running to both catch and dodge out of the way of violent muni busses, and above all it lets me dance and cuddle people and other delightful somatic activities. So i want to treat it right and make it happy.

And I do that by giving it unlimited access to burritos and beer.

So Dieting. Why would self denial be a good thing? also i hate being told what to do. Even by me.

Alas, the 19 year old triumphant obliviousness that abuse of one's liver and unlimited pizza binges carries on without consequence, has turned out to be less than fact. Some combination of age, hormones,deriving meals from vending machines, the use of food as an anxiolytic and anti depressant, and exchanging 2 hours daily work outs for an activity regimen that consists mostly of seeing how long i can balance a cereal bowl full of soy milk on my burgeoning belly (more challenging than it appears)--these alas, were also subject to the laws of chemistry and physiology and thus the relentless upward march of BMI.

I still love my body and it continues to work hard for me. Aesthetically I like strong ladies with squishy butts and i am digging my squishy butt. But I envisioned the next five years of call nights and vending machines and the trends of my disappearing waistline, that small detail of a robust family history of diabetes and heart disease, my idle advice to patients to 'just change your diet and eating habits and quit smoking and all your diseases will go away!' And eventually i will not be aesthetically pleased. I will make babies and it will worsen with hypothyroidism. I will be a rotund dumpling*. I will have insulin resistance and osteoarthritis.

*The Sri Lankan body destiny - Sri Lankan women come in 3 basic shapes. The most common is very very very tiny. MIA is a classic example. The second most common is Dumpling - big butt, boobs, hips on a short frame. Good for childbearing and and pretty adorable in aunties and grandmas. Least common but most inspirational is the tall athletic Sri Lankan girl who is a compete badass at basketball.

So. Body. I have been spoiling you. We've got to get you in shape. It will be better in the long run. You will thank me later.

Disclaimer: poetic license allows me to discuss body as third person object but i strongly abhor mind-body dualism.

So i began the Halt the BMI Diet this last Monday (only after an amazing weekend camping trip of gluttony and eating an entire bag of Mother's frosted animal cookies--you know, that shit with sprinkles. Hella good). I am hoping to lose 15 pounds over 16 weeks and then reassess how i feel. I hope that it is modest enough that i can figure out how to adapt it to a long term maintenance approach.

My previous attempts at 'eating healthy' has mostly consisted of vague commitments of 'I will eat some vegetables and less pizza'. Currently I am trying to consume net 1500 calories per day, with 1 day a week where I am off diet. If i eat an entire bag of Mother's frosted animal cookies (hella good) on that one day off, it probably will render the rest of the days moot, but i think this might be an important psychological safety valve and allow for longevity of the task. This week i have not quite succeeded, being on average 150 net calories over. I am keeping track with an overall satisfactory iphone ap Lose It. Generally it is a good ap; a disadvantage is that if you eat a lot of sri lankan, ethiopian, or any non-mainstream food, and you must sort of hodge podge it together based on the ingredients. This tracking alone has been revelatory. Despite a biology degree with extensive study of metabolism and several years of medical school and plenty of time advising other* people on how to manage their diets, I was surprised at how poor an intuition I have for the energy density of foods.

For example - hummus. You can eat hella hummus, feel really full and its like, not very much calories. But - granola. Despite its reputation as hippie food, the caloric impact (and glycemic index) is equivalent to eating several crumbled up cookies. Also even if you're like Look at Me I'm Eating a Salad for Lunch! but then you put a shit ton of cheese and nuts and avocados on your salad, it can be the equivalent of eating a pizza. But faced with finite budgeting, it became an exercise in revealing the value of food for me--e.g. I fucking love cheese, nuts and avocados and these taste really good on salad. But granola can suck it. Likewise white rice, which is just a mind boggling calorie sink of tasteless nothingness.

Working out will hopefully also be a big part of this endeavor, but i haven't yet figured out in what way. I have always loved dancing and capoeira and running around in circles for no reason at all, and it is a source of mental health and joy for me. The feeling of blood rushing to my head and the psychological impression of making myself strong and mighty is tremendously satisfying. It is also my experience (and i think documented in many studies) that it also increases my appetite and i am pretty sure i consistently eat more than i burn, so i am not sure it makes much difference in weight. So for now, my exercise activities will continue as they have before--sporadic, for fun & muscle flexing, while i focus on sorting out my meals.

At the end of the day, i love food. It is a source of joy, pleasure, comfort, and a way to commune with others. I do not want to be alienated from this and begin to view it instead as a source of anguish, conflict, or as a barrier to my health and well being. But I think i have already alienated myself from food by slurping it down mindlessly, using it as opiate, inhaling cafeteria breakfast burritos with desperation and flurry. Some of that can't be entirely helped since i have committed to certain goals and a lifestyle (i.e. medical training) that is also a source of meaning and joy. But I hope during the coming months of mostly sitting on my ass and data-analyzing, the Diet will be an exercise in eating more mindfully and thoughtfully.