Yo,
SuperSize Me
A
friend of mine recently returned from a trip to Europe. When I asked her
what the most memorable observation was during the adventure her
response was immediate: “Americans
are FAT!” There
wasn’t the expected reference to the Eiffel Tower, Big Ben, Carnaby
Street or Buckingham Palace in London, none of that, just a single
exclamation; Americans are Fat.
Since
I’m a recovering Food-aholic myself I found this statement to be more
than a little bit interesting, so I asked for details. It seems that Deb
was quite surprised to see a much leaner and meaner society upon her
arrival in Europe than the one that she’d left behind in the Good
Ol’ U.S. of A. just hours earlier. Since we often think of Europeans
as surviving on daily doses of cheese, wine, pizza, pastries and other
artery-clogging goodies this close look at reality was, apparently, a
bit of a shocker. To me, it came as no surprise at all. Look
around—–Americans have suddenly become SuperSized.
Keep
in mind that I just confessed to be a recovering Food-aholic. In the
past year I’ve lost 40-something pounds and I feel better today than I
ever have, but I’m still a Food-aholic. How did I do it, you ask? It
was easy and totally out of my control —–
a tiny bit of a former french fry, now cleverly disguised as a blood
clot, broke loose from its hiding place somewhere in my body and flew
happily into my brain. Normally, the scenario that I just described
leads to one unfortunate conclusion: Bingo—–you’re dead! Well,
fortunately for me there was a little Angel sitting on my shoulder that
Monday morning and I believe that she made a deal of some kind with the
Big Guy ‘cause I’m still here.
There’s less of me, but I’m here---and I’d like you to
remain here with me.
To
those of you who have never been fat let me describe the daily routine
that tubbies live with. You get out of bed and do your best to avoid any
mirrors as you make your way to the table. You take care of your
habitual morning duties: a BIG breakfast, a shower, a quick snack and
then you hobble back upstairs to get dressed. As you reach the fifth
step you realize that you’re already out of breath and you, again,
come down on yourself for being “overweight AND out-of-shape”. You
go to your closet and pick out clothes that will adequately cover your
unsightly source of shame and embarrassment only to discover that the
pants that you wore just last week suddenly feel a bit tight. You try to
write that off as—–“the pants shrunk in the dryer again, damn that
dryer!” With each trip to
the clothing store for the next larger size you feel even worse about
yourself. It’s also a never-ending cycle, day after day after day it
continues to eat away at you.
The
best relief for the declining sense of self worth for most heavies
is——you guessed it, eating. Since we Fat-Folk don’t like to be
noticed or laughed at as we feed our habit we tend to find our food-fix
at those places where it’s possible to remain hidden and stay out of
sight—–in our cars. Drive up windows are Tubbies best friend because
it’s a lot easier to tell a hidden microphone that you’d like four
cheeseburgers, four large fries and two chocolate shakes than it is to
walk into the fast-food factory by yourself and place that order. How
does the “Place your order here” machine know that you don’t have
a family of six or, perhaps, an entire football team in the car with
you?
Just
the other day I was reading the local paper before heading off to work.
The headlines—–not something buried deep within the publication mind
you—the headlines read: “Overweight?
Extra Pounds Can Shorten Your Life.”
It was, indeed, an interesting article. Obesity,
it said, is probably the number 2 killer in the USA—–second only to
cigarettes. No more than twenty minutes after reading the
article I pulled up to a light on the Vestal Parkway. Stopped next to me
was a very large young woman in a mini-van. Now, I don’t know how long
it takes for that particular light to change but while we were stopped
she polished off two cream filled doughnuts and reached for her third.
As she took the first bite out of number three she suddenly turned her
head and caught me staring. She turned bright red, tried to hide the
remainder of the uneaten goodie and, in the process, allowed a huge glob
of the tasty filling to run down her chin and fall onto her dress. How
would she hide that from her co-workers?
She flipped me the bird in frustration and burned away from the
light at warp speed——I felt bad. Not just for her though, for myself
as well. I’d done the same thing that I’d just witnessed on many
occasions in the past. I could easily have downed the third jelly
doughnut though, without making a mess.
So
what can you do to pull yourself out of the SuperSized category? To
begin with, get rid of the lame excuses. Don’t tell yourself that you have
big bones. Was your Mother a Brontosaurus? Don’t forget, I’ve used
all of the same excuses that you do. These include:
“I might as well eat the rest of this pizza, I’m already fat so
it’s not really going to matter.”
“Three candy bars before lunch—–aw’ what the heck, I’m
really stressed out today so I need them, I’ll be good TOMORROW”.
You name it and I used it as an excuse to rationalize my need to
consume large portions of food in order to help calm frayed nerves and
relieve overpowering amounts of stress and anxiety.
So,
how can you feel better about yourself? I can only tell you what worked
for me. You can either start by having a heart attack or a stroke as I
did or you can be strong enough to take control of your own destiny
before one of those two rascals whacks you into oblivion. IMHO, forget
the stuff that costs you money: the exercise machines, the diet plans,
the whole bit. See a good Doctor and focus on a plan that’s designed
for you. Get rid of the daily feast of burgers, fries, cakes, cookies,
candy, and other assorted packaged-crap and watch how fast the pounds
fall off. Will you be perfect in your quest for an immediate
transformation into attaining the body of a Greek God or Goddess?
No—–you’re going to fall off the wagon every once in a while and
you’ll hate yourself for it. But in the long run you’ll do fine and
you’ll feel a lot better about yourself.
The
other BIG key to success. Exercise. The Southern Tier is a gorgeous
chunk of Real Estate, use it. Go walking three mornings a week. Start by
doing a mile, then two. You’ll
feel better in two weeks and the first time that someone says “Hey,
are you losing weight?” you’ll be a proud peacock indeed.
Need someone to walk with? Call me. I remember what it feels like
to look in a mirror and think to myself: “I’d rather be dead than
Fat”. But, do you want to know something? When you’re on your back
and death is actually taking you by the hand you suddenly make an
amazing discovery——you really would rather live than die. Trust me
on that one.
If
I can save just one of you from experiencing what millions of my fellow
tubbies go through each day then I’ve done my little bit to repay the
Angel for keeping me alive. Life can be a truly beautiful thing when you
feel good about yourself—–give it a try.
UPDATE: Just so you feel better.....I've fallen off
the wagon a couple of times since writing this article. Now I have to
work at it again. I wonder if Oprah's home.
