Supersize Me

Adrienne and I watched Supersize Me tonight. You know...a guy named Morgan (incredibly healthy, fit, normal) eats McDonald's for every meal for thirty days and gains twenty-five pounds, has liver problems, cholesterol problems, pressure in his chest, can't walk up his stairs without huffing and puffing.

I've seen bits and pieces of this show before, and I really loved his series last year. Really sitting down and watching it this time (followed by an ABC Medical Mysteries about people who weigh more than 1000 pounds) had an impact.

The nutritionist said that he was eating about 5000 calories a day, or twice what he needed to maintain his 185 pounds. That brought home to me the correlation between what I eat and what is hanging off my body. It takes 3500 calories to gain a pound, he was eating nearly that and gained 25 pounds in 30 days.

It also really made me think about what the fuck I've been doing to not only myself, but my children, too. Because you know, I don't eat a McMeal and then come home and feed my children a Superfoods meal.

I haven't eaten fast food for seventeen days. I guess a few more, I'm not sure of the date of the last fast food I ate. Strangely, I don't want it. In the past, even just when I first started this blog and was making an attempt to lose weight, I would dream about Big Macs. I'd have to physically stop myself from going out and getting one.

So far I've avoided that the last few weeks. I think part of it is that I've finally really made the connection between what I put in my body, and my health. Both of my parents had cancer. My mother died of breast cancer. Both of my grandmother's died from cancer. My grandfather died of cancer. I do NOT want cancer.

Beyond anything else, I have an obligation to my baby to stay healthy. It just isn't right to decide to have a baby at 33 and then not take care of myself. If I die as young as my mother was when she died, Ruby will only be 15. Fifteen.

I have always had a thing about pretension. I hate it. It's my biggest pet peeve. But maybe it's okay to be a foodie, a kitchen snob. You know--only organic food, only free-range eggs, only $3 loaves of whole wheat bread. Maybe it's okay to be too good for Big Macs.

I'm feeling really good. It's surprising that only two and a half weeks of diet changes could make a difference, but it's true. I feel lighter, less bogged down. My skin is clearer, much softer and no more excema. Surprisingly, my back doesn't hurt. I've had this weird nerve-y pain in my left shoulder/upper back going down my left arm for ever, and it's gone. Maybe it would have gone away right now anyway, but I don't think so. I have more energy lasting longer into the day. I had started noticing a drop in my energy at about three p.m. and now I'm not feelng that until seven or eight. Still not perfect, but getting better everyday.

I know that part of why I feel so strongly right now about figuring out a way to preserve my health is because I believe being healthy will help me be able to take care of my family in whatever weird peak oil/global warming/war times are coming up. I'm not sure that the medical care we take for granted now (well, those of us lucky enough to have access to it)will be as readily available in the future. How's that for a Pollyanna end to this post? LOL