I’m Terribly Sorry; You Have Obesititis.

I was recently asked what my thoughts were on the idea that obesity is a disease. This is an idea I have given thought to in the past, and firmly reject. There are a couple of reasons for this, and in my usual rough-and-ready manner I will be outlining them here. This is a bit of a disclaimer – I’ve always been aware that my views are fairly hardline and sometimes a little harshly put across. Someone once even called them unsympathetic. I personally find that idea hilarious! How could I, of all people, not understand the plight of those trying to lose weight? I think it comes down to my attitude – I accepted it had been my action that caused my condition, and it would be primarily my actions that provided the way to deal with it. And I was fairly hard on myself about it; ergo, in the expression of my feelings about the subject of losing weight, I am very firm with my views.

It helps that what I’ve done has worked – I wouldn’t propagate a theory that hadn’t been successful except to annoy people, which on a subject as intimate and close to my heart as weight loss I wouldn’t do. It is a serious concern for a high number of people and one that people are constantly looking for assistance with and this blog is actually intended to help people, as much as some might be surprised I am doing anything with that goal in mind. For that reason, everything I write down is meant to entertain or advise, possibly both. Don’t like it, don’t take it but don’t for a second assume I don’t understand or appreciate how difficult a struggle fighting obesity can be.

Back to the whole ‘obesity as a disease’ subject! I’ve heard a lot of discussion about this and, while little of it was scientific or professional, I have considered a lot of different views about it. My first response to calling it a disease is that no, it cannot be one; it is an effect. Simply put, you eat too much and you get fat. That’s the base equation; some might call it harsh. But it’s not, it’s just simple. You get cut, you bleed; you get happy, you smile; you eat too much, you get fat. It is what happens. But is it fair to break it down to such a bare bones analysis? I mean, arguably if you don’t eat you lose weight and get ill. There are complications in life that we can’t rule out.

People have told me it’s genetic; you can ‘inherit’ being fat from your parents. I think, using Darwin’s law of ‘Survival of the Fittest’, this could happen over a series of generations if being obese is continued through those generations. It has to be worked towards, it’s not something you can achieve without eating a substantial amount – the human body is, after all, designed as an energy using machine. This means you have to eat more than you use before it starts to build up – sounds simple but I know I really had to put some effort into accepting that I was eating too much for my level of activity. If this happens over several generations you will be passing on an increasing ability to store fat – to get fat – to your children. So, sure it can be genetic but at the same time there needs to be a significant history of obesity in your family for it to be a big factor. 

Even then it’s more a susceptibility to obesity you are passing on rather than obesity itself. I have found no evidence of an actual gene or genetic trait that means you will be born fat, or destined to be fat. It is something you can fight, something you can struggle against. Allowing yourself to believe it is genetic and therefore inescapable means you will never believe you can avoid it. This is not evidence of it being a disease; it is evidence of it being a belief, or possibly a psychological disorder or syndrome if you don’t like the first term. I firmly believe, think, understand, appreciate, subscribe to and agree with (whichever term has more meaning for you) the idea that we can create barriers in our minds that has a powerful effect on how we behave and act – and dieting, eating and exercise habits or over-eating are all equally affected by those mental barriers. Willpower is key to everything we do, this no less.

Another reason I don’t qualify obesity as a disease; it’s not contagious or infectious. Arguably if you are in a social group or culture where obesity is the norm you are more likely to replicate this behaviour and accept it. However, this is a behavioural phenomenon or a cultural influence and there is nothing biological, viral or parasitical causing it except by the use of an artistic – and somewhat powerful – metaphor. If someone has a cold, or a stomach bug, or Ebola, sitting next to them on the bus is probably not going to end well for you (especially option three). You may not be infected but there’s a fair chance (or a terrifying chance for option three). No matter how many times you sit next to, near, around or interact with someone who is obese, this interaction alone will not make you fat.

Lastly, there is no ‘cure’ or ‘pill’ or medical service to deal with obesity. You see advertisements for ‘skinny pills’ or ‘lose fat fast’ tablets all the time; the only way this will work is either by killing your ability to feel hunger (potentially fatal and probably not good for you) or by you subscribing to the idea that they work (read: Placebo effect). If there was a pill that caused a fat-targeting bacteria or enzyme to be released in your body that someone didn’t turn out to be a flesh eating virus/parasite/bacteria then I’m pretty sure knowledge of it wouldn’t be restricted to tiny, cheap adverts on dodgy websites. 

There are ways you can lose weight, of course; exercise, concerted dieting and sheer bloody-minded determination to do so. Like I said, being fat is not some insurmountable destiny just like having a six-pack and being able to bench press another human being isn’t some God-given power available only to those who purely coincidentally hang out in gymnasiums regularly. Unless there is indeed a God and he plays far more games with us than previous thought, but somehow I doubt that; either It wanted me to lose 6 stone in a year or I achieved that by myself through my own decisions. Eating is an addiction, not a disease, and obesity is a symptom or effect of that addiction – just like yellow nails and teeth for smokers or the inability to maintain three connected thoughts for meth-addicts. So empower yourself with the knowledge you do not have to wait for a miracle cure, you can save yourself if you want to. And if you want it, go out and do it.

Killing Fat Softly II: Attack of the Fat

It’s been 3 months since I restarted my diet – I was a little lax over the whole of March, a little in celebration and a little because I was resting on my laurels. So far I’ve only lost another three pounds, putting me on 187lbs over all. I’ve had a ten day holiday in Chicago which was always going be a test of my ability to control my intake/motivate myself to exercise suitably to compensate for the fun I intend to have, but it was a challenge I relished. I didn’t very well though, so I am restarting the blog! <Cue fanfare>

                Now, I appreciate I may have appeared to give up on the diet/blog/both since March and to some extent, if I’m honest, I did. I slacked off, let my iron clad grip on my self-restraint slip slightly and began to give myself a couple more cheat days a week. This was not conducive to keeping up my rate of weight loss, as demonstrated by the above performance but I started to find it incredibly difficult to actually enjoy a meal out while still keeping to the diet. I’ve still lost some weight – and I’ve definitely indulged a little bit, had too many starters when I didn’t need to and maybe eaten a little bit much cheese.

                I have, however, been running as much as I can motivate myself to. This is about 10k a week so not a bad amount at all, in my opinion – if I was settling for being my current weight and fitness. I do not believe in settling for less, and I do not expect anyone else to settle for less on my behalf. I would rather be described as ‘impressive’ and ‘outstanding’ than ‘pretty good’ or ‘good enough’.

                So what have I done to amend my wayward weight ways? Mainly, more running. And skipping starters as well as deserts – and keeping to my promise of actually going to the gym or some kind of exercise class that isn’t just running. I want to make sure I’m not letting myself down, which I have to admit I was after I finished my first year.

                BUT NO LONGER! I’m back on the boat, the band wagon, the weight-loss diet-train and happy to be there! Or I tell myself I am at least; it’s still tough work. Easier than originally on some fronts – I am equipped with much more knowledge and armed with experience from my first year so I have better habits and behavioural patterns. However, I need to eat less to lose the same amount of weight, or work out more to allow myself to eat more. How am I managing it?

                Food first, as always! Breakfast is an epic feast of a banana and not one but two Actimel yogurts – a grand total of about 150-180 calories. This is followed by a lunch time indulgence of a whole bowl of salad and bacon strips which I count at an average of 400 calories and about four of my five/six/eight/ten portions of fruit and vegetables your meant to have each day, depending on which country you’re from. This total extravagance of about 600 calories leaves an impressive 700 for dinner, which is an absolutely massive meal of pasta, spinach, kale, asparagus, sweetcorn and some form of meet which is usually chicken unless I have some sausages available – this rare, since I don’t often buy them for fear of waking up on Saturday morning and eating all of them at once in a medicinal, hangover-fueled feast. So as you can see, my food life is full of fun and freedom. Sure, some may call this ‘impossible’ or ‘oppressive’ or, even, ‘absolutely ridiculous’. Which aren’t entirely unfair phrases.

                Which is why I exercise as well! I aim for 10-15km a week over two or three days, yoga and swimming once a week each, thirty press-ups, crunches, tricep lifts and squats a day and some assorted stretches. Intense, non? Compared with where I started – occasionally walking to/from the pub – this is an incredible amount, and being honest sucks up a lot of my time. I even do some weight lifting in my back garden with my brother something I don’t think anyone who knows me would have predicted. I wouldn’t say I enjoy it as such, but I do find it rewarding – not only is my fitness increasing but I get to eat more as well, thereby surviving on more than a starvation diet. Silver linings, right?