Let’s start with
the topic of food. I love food. I’ve always loved to eat, even as a young
kid. Right next to running and writing,
it’s my favorite pastime. As a kid, I
remember adults commenting on how much I ate.
Watching me as I consumed food, they’d say something like, “Geese, that
kid sure can eat! Look at him! He’s still going! And he’s thin as a bone!”
As I write about
food, much of this may sound contradictory to current guidelines on
proper eating, but as with many things--diet and nutrition are no exception—the
gospel frequently changes. As I’m no
authority on this subject, I won’t delve much into the current recommendations
only to say that today’s dogma may be different tomorrow.
The mere talk of
food overtakes my better rational nature—if indeed such a nature exists—causing
this delightful subject to lead a life of its own. The topic of food is so pleasurable that merely
writing about it makes me giddy with hunger.
So if the writing becomes choppy or the ideas seem disconnected, it’s because
I’ve left the keyboard and headed for the refrigerator.
I was a rather
skinny lad when I graduated high school, weighing 129 pounds at a height of 5
feet and 11 inches. I still ate huge
quantities of food, but as I was running so much in high school for cross
country and track I was burning calories faster than I could cram them into my
face. In fact, years later when my kids
saw my cross-country pictures in my high school yearbook they nearly freaked
out. “Gee Dad! You look like a skeleton!” one child
remarked. “Yeah, like one of those
starving people in Africa!” the other added.
Kids.
However, as I got
busy with college and a part-time job, my level of exercise precipitously went
down the toilet though my passion for eating did not. My weight crept up and to make a long story
short, after I finished medical school, got married and started a family, I acquired
a larger waist, a pair of “love handles” which weren’t getting a whole lot of
love, and a few extra—say 45—pounds of weight.
I was over 175 pounds at the same height of 5’ 11”.
At the ripe age
of 42, I decided to run a half-marathon and then later a full marathon. My weight eventually declined to a range of
155 to 160 pounds, and it’s remained at those levels since. The key is I continue to run on a regular
basis such that it became a habit. Though
not the same as the High School 129, my weight is still optimal; I’ve added
some muscle and some fat to a frame formerly comprised of little more than skin
and bones and a couple muscle fibers. I started
weight-lifting shortly after high school putting on the muscle mass, and that
too has become a habit. Yet my eating
habits have not changed much. I still
eat like a pig.
So let’s diverge
a little and discuss exercise. I’ll talk
about running since it’s familiar to most folks and is relatively easy to do,
compared to most other forms of exercise Studies have shown that a runner burns on
average of 100 calories per mile when running at a relaxed pace. This however doesn’t take into account one’s
body weight. The heavier you are, the
more calories you will burn per mile. It’s
simple physics--the greater the mass, the greater the force required to move
that mass a given distance, which requires more energy. For the human body, expended energy is
measured in calories. A rough
calculation is to multiply your weight in pounds by 0.75. This is a rough estimate of the number of
calories you will burn per mile of running.
So if you weigh say 160 pounds, multiply 160 by 0.75 (or ¾ths of of160)
which equals 120; this is the number of calories a 160-pound person expends per
mile running.
So you see,
running consumes a lot of calories. And
if you’re accumulating quite a bit of weekly miles running, you need to eat
more just to keep up with the demands the exercise places upon you. This is great news! Carbohydrates—sugar, starch, cookies and candy--are
actually good for distance runners
(perhaps a contrarian point of view).
Even fat is good and lots of protein.
At the risk of offending the health and dietary professions, think of a
nice juicy bacon cheeseburger with a large milkshake and French fries and
well…you get the picture of an energy-replenishing meal satisfying the needs of
the energy-spent runner. Life is good.
Sorry to sound contrarian
about food, but one of the reasons I love running and exercising is so I can
eat to my heart’s content. No doubt,
much of this screams blasphemy to trained nutritionists, perhaps woefully so. Don’t take this as advice
tailored specifically for you or as the gospel truth. However, I don’t eat in a terribly porcine
manner every day; most days I eat rather sensibly.
For some reason,
after I resumed regular running in my 40s, food seems to taste better. Astonishingly, things such as fresh fruit,
vegetables, even water from the kitchen faucet (i.e., natural, non-processed
foods straight from the source) were appealing.
When I was a kid, I didn’t care for that kind of stuff and even had a
general dislike for them, although Mom was diligent in preparing fresh food and
rarely let us eat junk. At that age, who
listens to Mom anyway? By the time I was in college, medical school,
and especially during my residency, there was little time to prepare let alone
shop for fresh food. Time was of the
essence, and much of what I ate was packaged, processed, and preserved. In those days it was more important to fuel
the body for a hugely busy day rather than nourish it for the long term.
So it came to my
surprise that I actually enjoyed foods I despised when I was younger. This dawned upon me one day while eating a
carrot—a carrot of all things!—and I realized I had accepted healthier eating
habits; this was not forced upon me but developed rather from a natural
evolution, so to speak. There’s
something satisfying about eating both for enjoyment and for the body’s
physiologic needs. It’s just so darn—and
here I go again—pleasurable.
Yet there are
times when you simply must throw caution to the wind, toss good sense out the
window and devour something really heavy, fatty, sugar-saturated and just darn
tasty. Strict abstinence from something
never works, and that’s why fad diets often fail. Indulgence yourself on a regular, although
not-too-frequent, basis.
I was--and always
will be--a carnivore. I make no apologies
for this. I do eat different fruits and
vegetables every day, and I’ve gone an entire day without eating meat. But I simply cannot dispense entirely of
juicy burgers or a very thick, rare piece of steak, especially ones I’ve cooked
myself. I also love all types of fish,
whether raw or cooked. Sushi is one of
my favorite foods. So are cheeseburgers
piled with lettuce, tomatoes and onions.
I also love to slow-cook food in a smoker such as pork ribs, chicken,
salmon and tri-tip roasts. Thus
sadly--or perhaps not so sadly--I can’t avoid eating dead animals
altogether. There’s a reason humans are
on a certain link of the food chain (though not the top of the chain—think of
viruses and bacteria being at the top) and I’ve accept our position on that
chain unquestionably and continue enjoying eating animal products, no matter
how disturbing that may sound. It’s all
about balance and the circle of life on this planet, so it was said in the
Disney movie, The Lion King.
My philosophy on
food, both from the perspective of a medical doctor and pseudo-athlete, centers
upon the age-old dictum of balance. A balanced diet contains the major food
groups of: whole grains; a variety of colorful vegetables and fruits; and protein
sources such as nuts, meat, poultry, fish, dairy and eggs. Imagine living on a farm or a fishing village
and eating only the things the land and sea have to offer. Those people seem well-adjusted and happy. The fresher the better, with avoidance—as
much as possible--of packaged, canned and processed foods. This--to my simple-minded way of thinking--is
a sensible way of eating.
Of course, eating
sensibly is easier said than done, which is why I can’t advocate strict
avoidance of junk food. Strict
avoidance of anything only leads to failure.
In the realm of structured diets, once weakness sets in and a diet taboo
is broken, the dieter perceives failure, and subsequently abandons the diet
completely. A small break in the
diet—such as eating a small piece of candy or a gallon of ice cream—can be the
tipping point that convinces the dieter that all hope is lost, dooming him to
everlasting dieters’ hell. That’s why
fad diets don’t have staying power--there are too many rules to follow.
Balance also
applies to exercise, no matter what method you choose. I talk about running due to its simple nature
and it’s a familiar topic to me.
Virtually anyone can run. It
takes no inborn talent or elaborate practice to get you there. It requires nothing more than putting one
foot in front of the other. Find a way
to do it regularly and you will surprise yourself by its affects. You also will find that eating and exercise
complement one another in a very pleasing fashion.
A note on failure:
Factor the
possibility of failure into your plan when striving to do anything good
such as eating healthier or exercising. Failure
will inevitably raise its ugly head, but it’s not what it does to you that
matters, it’s what you do to it. And
when you eventually do stuff your face with a hefty piece of junk food or
decide not to exercise that day, don’t allow guilt to force you into giving up
entirely. This lapse in judgment—this
failure—is temporary. Learn from
it. The world will not end. There is always another day. Accept failure as a natural part of being
human.
So there it is--my
philosophy in a nutshell. Simple
enough. Or the philosophy from a nut,
however you choose to digest it. No
doubt, many will argue the merits of all or part of this post, but arguments
will change as time passes and science showers us with new information and new
sets of recommendations on the way we should eat and exercise. Controversy will always exist even in light
of the best available information. As always,
keep it simple, use your common sense, and you will find the way to a balanced
and healthy lifestyle.
©Randall S. Fong, M.D.
©Randall S. Fong, M.D.
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