Hey, Lardo

After nearly two years of blogging about the evils of religion (especially the Catholics) and Giant Atomic Chickens and the joys of cannibalism and metal and Satanism and Voodou, it looks like I finally touched a nerve when I mentioned I don’t believe genetics has much to do with us being the second fattest country in the world (just behind Greece). It figures. Since I didn’t have the time to respond to all your comments then, I decided to revisit the issue to clarify my stance on the issue and explain to all of you who don’t agree with me why you’re wrong, and are probably a complete moron. Plus you’re gay.

I was going to do some research on my theories and provide links to experts who back my views, but I didn’t bother because, as an American, I’m not only fat and stupid, I’m also lazy. Besides, what would be the point? Anyone with an Internet connection and a few spare minutes could easily find another so-called expert with a PhD and a diametrically opposed viewpoint. I’m sure that somewhere there’s at least one “expert” who believes our obesity epidemic is the direct result of rogue clowns phasing through the walls at night and shoving Whoppers down our throats. PhD’s are as rare as nose hairs, and are about as good an indicator of a person’s intelligence. Instead of using education as an excuse from thinking, Instead, I’m relying on a little common sense (which isn’t very common these days) and my personal observations.

First off, let me state for the record that I am fat. My BMI places me just shy of obese, not that I care about those labels. What I weigh now in my late middle thirties is within ten pounds of what I weighed in high school. I am fat now and always have been, except for one brief period of my life. I’m slightly lucky in that I have a self-maintaining metabolism that can only be influenced by extremes, but it’s permanently set to fat mode.

Years ago, while finishing college, I had the unhealthiest lifestyle imaginable. I lived far south of Atlanta (too far to call it the suburbs), worked in the Northwest suburbs, and attended school to the Northeast. Due to timing and Atlanta traffic, I routinely spent three and a half to five hours a day in my car. All my meals were fast food, usually eaten while driving. For exercise, I walked to and from my car and did nothing else. My typical weekday was:
1) Awaken at 6:00 AM.
2) Drive to work, picking up and eating breakfast on the way.
3) Work while snacking at my desk until lunch, which was usually fast food.
4) Work while snacking until quitting time, then driving to school.
5) Eat dinner (usually with a pitcher or three of beer with a friend).
6) School until 11:00 PM or midnight. Mountain Dew helped me stay awake.
7) Drive home and hit the books and whiskey until 2:00 AM or 3:00 AM.
8) Repeat.

The weekends were the same except for all the driving. I rarely cooked at home, and whenever I did it was always something like frozen pizza (with added cheese and toppings) or ultra loaded enchiladas with lots of beef and cheese and sour cream.

These days I live and work in the same area. I only eat healthy, natural (usually Japanese) foods and I attempt to go to the gym six days a week, although I usually only make it five days a week. My new routine is:
1) Awaken at 7:00 AM.
2) Have a light, homemade breakfast (soba noodles or rice and something) and drive to work.
3) Work until lunch, having a snack of unflavored green tea and some fruit.
4) Lunch is either homemade or a frozen (but all natural) dinner, like Pad Thai with tofu.
5) Work until quitting time, indulging in another cup of tea if I want.
6) Go to the gym and exercise for one to one and a half hours, usually thirty minutes of cardio and the rest on the weight machines.
7) Dinner, either at Umezono (where I practice hara hachi bunme – eat until 80% full – to offset their large portions) or another home-cooked J-meal.
8) In bed no later than 1:00 AM.

On the weekends I do the same, although I try to get in a little extra exercise. I have a few beers and sometimes a few shots of whiskey a couple of times a week, but nowhere near what I could once handle. I don’t go around counting calories, but by a conservative estimate I would say I’m taking in fewer that a third of the calories I once ate, plus the foods are much healthier (and tastier) than before. The end result? I just weighed myself, and between those two periods in my life I’ve lost exactly three pounds. Fortunately I’m not hung up on my weight, and I don’t do what I do as an attempt at weight loss. With my current lifestyle, the food I eat is better, both in flavor and healthful properties, I have more energy that I ever have as an adult, I rarely get sick, I don’t feel as hot (before I was always burning up) and (this is really strange) I almost never get a static-electric shock. Before, I felt like a lightening rod with all the shocks I received. Now, it’s a rare occurrence and nowhere near its former intensity.

One time I did put on weight and sailed into the realm of obesity, but that was when I was depressed and began shoveling food and booze into my mouth as fast as I could. I’m not a whiner and I won’t go into that except to say that when I worked through it, my weight settled back down to its normal level of fatness.

When I was nineteen and in the Army (a society that does not suffer fatties gladly), I decided I had put up with my excess weight long enough and would do whatever it took to lose it. I quit eating the army food (which is always high fat and calorie), researched nutritional information, bought a free-weight set and weight bench, and began counting calories, exercising (beyond our regular morning workouts), and restricting my diet according to my needs. Since I was doing a lot of heavy weight training, I calculated that I would need at least 70g of protein daily (probably more than I needed, but I didn’t want to come up short) but I wouldn’t allow myself any more than 2,000 Calories and 30g of fat. I lifted weights and ran five to seven miles each day, except Sunday when I ran about three miles and did stretching exercises and light calisthenics. When the weight failed to melt at a suitable speed, I lowered my caloric and fat intake. Over the next few months, I eventually lost every bit of spare poundage (although I wasn’t at all skinny – just lean and muscular) and eventually arrived at a daily diet of no more than 1,000 Calories and 10g of fat, although my average daily intake was about 800 and 8, respectively.

End result? People respected me more – even my closest friends began to treat me as though I had gained intelligence instead of lost weight. Even better, women would sometimes ignore my inherent creepiness™ and would approach me when in public. Unfortunately, I was rarely in public because my diet was so restrictive I couldn’t have a snack or a single beer without exceeding my daily limits. Besides, I was exercising three hours a day which left very little time for a social life.

Despite the advantages of being thin, I didn’t like living a life built around diet and exercise. Worse, I noticed that more and more I looked forward to the end of the day when I got to sleep. With such a tiny diet fueling such heavy duty activities, I felt hungry all day long, even immediately after meals (which were mainly protein shakes). When you reach a point in your life where the best part is when you’re unconscious, you’re about a fifty cent cab ride away from committing suicide. Even though I hated it, I couldn’t bear to give up my new-found respect and sexiness. Fortunately the Army solved my problem for me. I was sent on a month-long field exercise, unable to exercise except by doing isometrics while I sat in the driver’s seat of my vehicle and unable to eat anything but MRE’s, which at the time had a minimum of 3,600 Calories and 100g of fat per meal. By the time I returned to base, I had gained back every single pound lost and there was no way I was putting myself through that hell again, regardless of the opinions of others.

So, to my point (thank the zombie Jebus). Obviously I believe that there are differences between personal metabolisms since I’m one of those people who can only lose weight through extreme measures. Likewise, I’ve known others who eat and drink all they want and never gain an ounce. They’re usually the ones who say “I don’t know why so many people are fat. All they have to do is eat a little less and exercise some more.” It reminds me of a thin runway model who was asked what she had to do to stay in such great (read: anorexic) shape. She replied, “Oh, I don’t do anything at all. I never exercise, and I eat whatever I want – ice cream, chili cheeseburgers, you name it. Tee hee. *giggle*.” (bitch) So why not blame genetics?

I don’t blame genetics because my genetic code comes from Britain, Ireland, Germany, and France (plus the Cherokee nation, although I don’t have obesity stats for them) and each of those countries have a much lower obesity rate than the US. Some people claim genetics are the key because fat parents tend to have fat kids, but I think the answer is more obvious than that. Fat people tend to have poor eating and exercise habits, plus most people raise their children in the same manner in which they were raised, therefore fat people tend to create more fatties.

The Japanese are the real masters of fat with a low 3% obesity rate. I don’t believe it’s due to genetics as much as diet and exercise, especially during their developing years. I once read a book which cautioned owners of large dogs to avoid over-exercising them as puppies as they needed their energy to be devoted to growth. No, I’m not saying the Japanese are dogs, I just think the same could apply to people. Az once wrote that the Japanese were really breast-obsessed and bothered that their women have such small boobies, which he attributed to their upbringing (sorry, I can’t find the exact post). In Japan, the kids exercise two to three hours a day at school (mostly sports and activities primarily designed to teach teamwork) starting at age six or seven. As a result, they tend to be lean and downright tiny.

Another piece of anecdotal evidence – I knew (barely) a Chinese couple that immigrated to the States and had a daughter. Both were tiny C-people, the wife no more than five feet and a hundred pounds (but still really attractive in her fifties). One day I met her American-born daughter – at least 5’ 7” and not at all fat but sporting a pair somewhere between a C and D cup. It’s possible they were the result of surgery, but they seemed to match her hourglass figure. Again, if genetics ruled her figure, she’d also be a tiny C-hottie. Instead, she grew up to be a sexy ABC usagi.

In conclusion (finally, you fecking windbag) I do believe that some people are more “Fat-friendly” than others, but I think it’s mostly due to their upbringing and developmental years than genetic code. If you disagree with me, I truly do not care.

Here is an interesting and related article.