This past week, I held the first of my eight workshops in the “Am I Hungry?” program, which included sharing what brought each of us to the class. Going around the room, I was struck by the fact that for some of us, myself included, it took a life-changing event to prod us to motion. As I started thinking about that, I realized it might be because the process of losing weight the way I did is, in itself, life-changing. And that can be so frightening that it’s something we avoid doing unless we’re already in the throes of some other type of transformation.
Most of us, after all, are afraid of change, to greater or lesser degrees. Even good things, like starting a new relationship, having a baby, or getting a new job, carry elements of risk and fear. But where does losing weight fit in? How can eating, something we all need to do, change your life? Your clothes size, yes, or how well you fit into airplane seats, or how many flights of stairs you can climb before being winded - but your life?
This, I think, is what a lot of people like to ignore: to lose weight and maintain that loss, you need to change your relationship to food and to yourself. People who want to lose x amount of weight to fit into a bathing suit, or before attending a wedding or reunion, or anything along those lines, aren’t prepared for that level of commitment. It’s easier to think that you can go back to the way you were at some point, because the concept of changing something for the rest of your life is terrifying.
The thing is, change happens whether we want it to or not. And much of the time, the results will also be with you lifelong. I found that out the hard way when my mom died. When I realized that nothing was ever going to be the same again, it made it easier to consider altering other areas of my life to something that I truly wanted.
But changing the way we approach food doesn’t haven’t to be traumatic, or instantaneous. We can take charge of it, slowly incorporating pieces into our lives, a bit at a time, until each one becomes part of our daily habits, like brushing our teeth, or getting dressed.
This can be hard to start, but the good news is, once begun, the results can be almost miraculous. Perhaps, like me, you will begin to consider climbing mountains instead of just stairs. Or maybe you will think about getting down on the floor to play with young children instead of trying to bend over to tie shoelaces. Or maybe you will find that you now have the energy to do things you’ve always dreamt of instead of struggling to just stay awake through the afternoon.
Yes, this truly can be life-changing. I only hope I can help others recognize that it is change that can and should be their choice, instead of waiting until life does it for them.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
Sunday, April 17, 2011
School Lunches
This past week I read an article by Liz Goodwin in the Chicago Tribune titled “Chicago school bans homemade lunches, the latest in national food fight”. I read it with disbelief and then anger. The article discusses changes not only in Chicago but other areas of the country, including ones that will be implemented as part of the Healthy, Hunger-Free Kid Act.
Among the changes discussed are:
- Banning homemade lunches altogether (unless someone has allergies)
- Banning drinks brought from home (since the school provides water)
- Banning desserts (does fruit qualify as a dessert?) or anything with white flour or refined sugar
- Banning anything processed
- Limiting the calories contained in school lunches
- Providing only reduced-fat salad dressings
- Replacing French fries with other vegetables and fruit
I understand that the intentions behind all of these changes are to help kids be healthier, and I don’t have any argument with that goal. I do, however, strongly disagree with the way those intentions are being put into practice.
Take banning homemade lunches. As the article pointed out, forcing all the children to buy lunch is a financial hardship for some, because the full lunch price is more than most would spend if making their own lunch. It also implies that parents cannot be trusted to provide healthy meals for their children. I know that for some, this is the case, and that may be especially true for this Chicago school, where so many are on the poverty line and may not be able to afford healthy options. But is it true for everyone? No. Does it therefore make sense to unilaterally impose these changes?
As for not allowing desserts, or refined sugar, etc. – I have to wonder about the law-makers. Do they understand the implications of what they’re doing? They are instantly making those foods forbidden and “bad”, since they’re not allowed at school. Do they really think that kids won’t find ways to sneak those foods into school, or just eat more of them outside of school? Do they realize that when the kids do eat them, in secret, that those children are taking on the classification of “bad” for themselves? It has the potential to make sneaking snack cakes or candy or cookies equivalent to sneaking cigarettes. Is this something the cool, rebellious kids will be doing? I can almost picture it now – young people in leather jackets, with combat boots, dealing in black-market cookies and cupcakes in back alleys.
Then we come to limiting the types of food and calories and fat provided. Does this take into account that everyone, especially growing children, need some amount of fat? What about the fact that some kids need far more calories than others? If kids participate in sports, will they have clearance to eat more food? It strikes me as extremely ironic that the initiative is for “Hunger-Free” kids, but it seems very possible that some of the changes implemented might actually increase some children’s hunger.
Finally, if kids grow up with the experience of having their food mandated by the authorities, will that make them less able to decide for themselves what they should be eating? And will they assume that if the authorities have said that x amount of food and type of food is good, that it’s good for everyone, at all times, regardless of how hungry or not that particular child is or their particular dietary needs? I don’t know how this will play out, but I am worried that it will backfire, and we’ll end up in an even worse place than we are now.
Among the changes discussed are:
- Banning homemade lunches altogether (unless someone has allergies)
- Banning drinks brought from home (since the school provides water)
- Banning desserts (does fruit qualify as a dessert?) or anything with white flour or refined sugar
- Banning anything processed
- Limiting the calories contained in school lunches
- Providing only reduced-fat salad dressings
- Replacing French fries with other vegetables and fruit
I understand that the intentions behind all of these changes are to help kids be healthier, and I don’t have any argument with that goal. I do, however, strongly disagree with the way those intentions are being put into practice.
Take banning homemade lunches. As the article pointed out, forcing all the children to buy lunch is a financial hardship for some, because the full lunch price is more than most would spend if making their own lunch. It also implies that parents cannot be trusted to provide healthy meals for their children. I know that for some, this is the case, and that may be especially true for this Chicago school, where so many are on the poverty line and may not be able to afford healthy options. But is it true for everyone? No. Does it therefore make sense to unilaterally impose these changes?
As for not allowing desserts, or refined sugar, etc. – I have to wonder about the law-makers. Do they understand the implications of what they’re doing? They are instantly making those foods forbidden and “bad”, since they’re not allowed at school. Do they really think that kids won’t find ways to sneak those foods into school, or just eat more of them outside of school? Do they realize that when the kids do eat them, in secret, that those children are taking on the classification of “bad” for themselves? It has the potential to make sneaking snack cakes or candy or cookies equivalent to sneaking cigarettes. Is this something the cool, rebellious kids will be doing? I can almost picture it now – young people in leather jackets, with combat boots, dealing in black-market cookies and cupcakes in back alleys.
Then we come to limiting the types of food and calories and fat provided. Does this take into account that everyone, especially growing children, need some amount of fat? What about the fact that some kids need far more calories than others? If kids participate in sports, will they have clearance to eat more food? It strikes me as extremely ironic that the initiative is for “Hunger-Free” kids, but it seems very possible that some of the changes implemented might actually increase some children’s hunger.
Finally, if kids grow up with the experience of having their food mandated by the authorities, will that make them less able to decide for themselves what they should be eating? And will they assume that if the authorities have said that x amount of food and type of food is good, that it’s good for everyone, at all times, regardless of how hungry or not that particular child is or their particular dietary needs? I don’t know how this will play out, but I am worried that it will backfire, and we’ll end up in an even worse place than we are now.
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Healthy Eating for All
This past week I read an article by Mark Bittman in The New York Times about initiatives that Philadelphia is considering to make healthy food accessible to low-income households. They have a number of wonderful ideas – offering an incentive for convenience stores to stock fresh fruit and vegetables, incenting people to use food stamps at Farmer’s Markets (and making it easier to do so), encouraging more supermarkets in low-income neighborhoods.
In reading it, I wondered why such proposals and conversations aren’t more prevalent. Here in Maine, I’m aware of Cooking Matters, which teaches all ages of people how to cook healthy meals on a budget. But it’s not something I see advertised often. Nor do I see much about what Cultivating Community does, even though they describe themselves as a “community food project” . I was lucky enough to stumble across these organizations, but it almost feels like you already have to be on the inside, or a beneficiary, to learn about them. Why is this?
I have to wonder how much class issues come into play. Some Farmer’s Markets, for instance, have become extremely trendy, places to go because it’s good to be seen there. Do the upper-middle-class folks who often frequent such places really want lower-income families to show up? If not, why bother with offering to accept food stamps? I’d like to think this isn’t a factor, but I don’t know that it’s not.
Additionally, I suspect that weight prejudice may come into play. Despite the preponderance of evidence that being overweight these days is almost automatic for many people (if you can’t afford healthier foods, or don’t even know what to do with them once you have them, what options do you have?), I have the sense that many people still consider losing weight to be just a matter of “willpower”. Given that, why would we need to provide all of these options? Yet if that were true, how is it that the current generation has so much less “willpower” than any previous generation?
Even if we offer more options, some people may not be motivated to take them. After all, when you’re living day to day, never quite knowing if you’ll be able to get enough or any food, worrying about the long-term health risks is a lower priority.
I therefore think it’s important to also emphasize the short-term benefits of healthy eating. For myself, and I’ve heard from others as well, when I eat healthy foods, I simply feel better. I’m more satisfied, I have more and consistent energy, my moods are more stable, I can focus better and think more clearly. I am a more productive member of society, and a happier one. Why shouldn’t everyone be able to experience that?
While I’m pleased with what Philadelphia is doing, and the few things that I know about here in Maine, this discussion needs to be part of a much larger dialogue. We need to ensure that people who are living hand-to-mouth have options for what, exactly, is going from hand to mouth, and that they aren’t dismissed as simply not trying hard enough to lose weight. This also needs to be a nation-wide effort, more than just localized areas, so that not only those with enough disposable income can enjoy the benefits of healthy eating.
In reading it, I wondered why such proposals and conversations aren’t more prevalent. Here in Maine, I’m aware of Cooking Matters, which teaches all ages of people how to cook healthy meals on a budget. But it’s not something I see advertised often. Nor do I see much about what Cultivating Community does, even though they describe themselves as a “community food project” . I was lucky enough to stumble across these organizations, but it almost feels like you already have to be on the inside, or a beneficiary, to learn about them. Why is this?
I have to wonder how much class issues come into play. Some Farmer’s Markets, for instance, have become extremely trendy, places to go because it’s good to be seen there. Do the upper-middle-class folks who often frequent such places really want lower-income families to show up? If not, why bother with offering to accept food stamps? I’d like to think this isn’t a factor, but I don’t know that it’s not.
Additionally, I suspect that weight prejudice may come into play. Despite the preponderance of evidence that being overweight these days is almost automatic for many people (if you can’t afford healthier foods, or don’t even know what to do with them once you have them, what options do you have?), I have the sense that many people still consider losing weight to be just a matter of “willpower”. Given that, why would we need to provide all of these options? Yet if that were true, how is it that the current generation has so much less “willpower” than any previous generation?
Even if we offer more options, some people may not be motivated to take them. After all, when you’re living day to day, never quite knowing if you’ll be able to get enough or any food, worrying about the long-term health risks is a lower priority.
I therefore think it’s important to also emphasize the short-term benefits of healthy eating. For myself, and I’ve heard from others as well, when I eat healthy foods, I simply feel better. I’m more satisfied, I have more and consistent energy, my moods are more stable, I can focus better and think more clearly. I am a more productive member of society, and a happier one. Why shouldn’t everyone be able to experience that?
While I’m pleased with what Philadelphia is doing, and the few things that I know about here in Maine, this discussion needs to be part of a much larger dialogue. We need to ensure that people who are living hand-to-mouth have options for what, exactly, is going from hand to mouth, and that they aren’t dismissed as simply not trying hard enough to lose weight. This also needs to be a nation-wide effort, more than just localized areas, so that not only those with enough disposable income can enjoy the benefits of healthy eating.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Food Obsessed
I’ve been thinking about how much I think about food. And how I think about it.
It started on Wednesday, when I held an introductory session for the “Am I Hungry?” program. As part of it, I talked about how people in an overeating cycle tend to think about food constantly. I also shared some of my own experience, and recalled that when I was heavy, I would think about food or eating no matter how recently I’d eaten.
At the end, one of the women asked, “Now that you’ve lost weight and maintained it, do you still think about food all the time?”
“Not all the time,” I answered. “I do think about it a lot, but in a different way. It’s more in terms of figuring out my meals and what I can make with different foods – I’ve discovered that I like cooking. I also love seeing what’s available at the Farmer’s Market.”
That’s true enough, but in the few days since then, as I’ve been paying attention to how and when I think about food, I’ve discovered that it’s more prevalent than just meal planning.
When I go by the kitchen at work, I can’t help noticing what’s there and considering if it’s something I’d want. Nine times out of ten it’s not, but I still think about it, and about how strange it is that I don’t want it.
When I’m at the store, I notice the sorts of foods on sale and how that’s related to whatever the season or holiday is. As at work, I also observe that those foods no longer have any hold over me. For instance, these days I remember how much I used to love Cadbury Easter eggs. I was delighted in November 1997 when I got to go to Cadbury World in Birmingham, England, since it meant I could have that candy out of season. But now, I can easily walk past them.
On the flip side, as I mentioned in the class, when I go to the Farmer’s Market, I’m excited to see what’s available each week, thinking about what I can do with it, and perhaps discover a recipe that will become a favorite.
That excitement is the other major difference I’ve noticed. When I consider how I used to think about food (something that’s actually an effort for me now), I realize that it wasn’t with any sort of enjoyment. If anything, it made me miserable. I might derive transitory satisfaction in the moment of eating, but I never took the time to savor the food for fear of someone catching me in the act. As soon as I was done, I often felt guilty about it, or that I was a bad person. Not that it stopped me from eating again. It just made me more and more determined to eat in secret. It was actually somewhat exhausting.
These days, I am happy to say that I can go for long stretches of time without thinking about food. If I’m not actually hungry, I can focus on what I’m doing without having that in the back of my head. And it’s wonderful to realize that the times I do think about it, it’s often with delight. So while I might still be a bit food-obsessed, it’s in a much gentler way. And given how much I now enjoy it, I’m okay with that.
It started on Wednesday, when I held an introductory session for the “Am I Hungry?” program. As part of it, I talked about how people in an overeating cycle tend to think about food constantly. I also shared some of my own experience, and recalled that when I was heavy, I would think about food or eating no matter how recently I’d eaten.
At the end, one of the women asked, “Now that you’ve lost weight and maintained it, do you still think about food all the time?”
“Not all the time,” I answered. “I do think about it a lot, but in a different way. It’s more in terms of figuring out my meals and what I can make with different foods – I’ve discovered that I like cooking. I also love seeing what’s available at the Farmer’s Market.”
That’s true enough, but in the few days since then, as I’ve been paying attention to how and when I think about food, I’ve discovered that it’s more prevalent than just meal planning.
When I go by the kitchen at work, I can’t help noticing what’s there and considering if it’s something I’d want. Nine times out of ten it’s not, but I still think about it, and about how strange it is that I don’t want it.
When I’m at the store, I notice the sorts of foods on sale and how that’s related to whatever the season or holiday is. As at work, I also observe that those foods no longer have any hold over me. For instance, these days I remember how much I used to love Cadbury Easter eggs. I was delighted in November 1997 when I got to go to Cadbury World in Birmingham, England, since it meant I could have that candy out of season. But now, I can easily walk past them.
On the flip side, as I mentioned in the class, when I go to the Farmer’s Market, I’m excited to see what’s available each week, thinking about what I can do with it, and perhaps discover a recipe that will become a favorite.
That excitement is the other major difference I’ve noticed. When I consider how I used to think about food (something that’s actually an effort for me now), I realize that it wasn’t with any sort of enjoyment. If anything, it made me miserable. I might derive transitory satisfaction in the moment of eating, but I never took the time to savor the food for fear of someone catching me in the act. As soon as I was done, I often felt guilty about it, or that I was a bad person. Not that it stopped me from eating again. It just made me more and more determined to eat in secret. It was actually somewhat exhausting.
These days, I am happy to say that I can go for long stretches of time without thinking about food. If I’m not actually hungry, I can focus on what I’m doing without having that in the back of my head. And it’s wonderful to realize that the times I do think about it, it’s often with delight. So while I might still be a bit food-obsessed, it’s in a much gentler way. And given how much I now enjoy it, I’m okay with that.
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