A few months back, Slate ran a tongue-in-cheek story on caloric restriction, a controversial diet plan which sharply reduces total caloric intake. It was entitled “My Starvation Diet: I’ve cut back to 1,500 calories a day. Will it help me live to 120 years old?”
I was exasperated, and borderline enraged, by this story. First, it implied that 1500 calories a day is a sensational hardship. The journalist can’t stick with this draconian plan, feels light-headed, and binges on sushi. Poor baby. Yes, my sympathy is limited: I rarely go over 1500 calories a day, but I weigh far more than the Slate journalist, and always have. And yeah, I’m starving most of the time. Get over it.
The empirical realities of human metabolism are painfully obvious. One size does not fit all; one caloric “prescription” doesn’t either. Even setting physical activity aside, some of us can eat more, some must eat less. We should learn this in elementary school – didn’t we all have a “string bean” friend who improbably lived off vending machine candy and non-diet soda, and another friend who was chubby, despite sadly eating only half her PB&J? Why do we assume things are different for adults?
Genetics is probably the biggest factor in this dietary inequality (new genes are implicated practically every day). Other factors, like epigenetics and colon bacteria, may contribute as well. The sensible, and fair, thing to do is to admit that we all have different metabolic needs, and tailor nutritional plans to individuals.
It’s a mystery to me why, given the obvious genetic contribution to obesity, being fat is invariably blamed on overindulgence or laziness. The medical community seems to assume that everyone should do fine on the standard nutritional plan, with moderate exercise. If that’s true, those who fail must suffer from some causative moral flaw. This attitude psychologizes food in an unhealthy way, promoting both overeating (“why bother to watch what I eat, nothing works”) and undereating (“if I have to starve and punish myself, I will”). I haven’t seen a strong counterargument to this moral judgment in the science media.
And although genetics is increasingly mentioned as a “contributing factor,” in obesity, there’s a huge difference between the (relatively) common attitude that genetics predisposes people to be addicted to food (which still implies overindulgence), and the heretical idea that genetics predisposes some people to be overweight, even obese, on the recommended “normal” intake of food – say, 2,000 calories a day. (I can’t count the number of times I’ve been told that’s impossible). The unpleasant fact is that, for at least some people, there is no excessive overindulgence. We eat healthy, exercise, and above all, struggle to eat less than our peers – but remain fatter.
I’m crossing my fingers that journalist Gina Kolata’s new book, Rethinking Thin: The New Science of Weight Loss, may finally legitimize the idea that we are metabolically diverse, and one plan will not work for everyone. The book was released today, and although reviews suggest that Kolata takes up some of these issues, I don’t know how she handles them. I’ll post more on the topic when I’ve read the book. I’m dying to see someone call the medical community out on this issue, and I hope Kolata does – even if it’s only the first step.
Well said, Cicada.
I, too, regulate my intake, keeping it around 1,500 calories a day. For a while, I actually recorded all intake and wouldn’t go over 1,000 a day, but I dropped to too much weight and lost some muscle mass. Now I’m back at a healthy balance.
I have to run and work out six days a week to stay in shape, though. I grew up chunky, with nicknames like Dunkin’, Boboli and what have you; it wasn’t until college that I began to strip away some of the fat and develop muscle tone.
I find it laughable that the Slate writer suggests 1,500 calories a day amounts to “starvation.” At 1,000 calories a day, I was feeling better then ever, with increased energy and what I perceived to be quicker brain function. I only upped the caloric intake because I grew tired of being called anorexic by friends and family. I enjoyed being a stick, as I felt like a coiled spring all the time, with so much energy to tap into when needed. On the other hand, I was only too happy to stop monitoring my diet so religiously. That was a real bore. Now I just guesstimate, and focus more on eating healthy than eating low calorie foods. Being a vegetarian, it’s easy enough.
As you argue here, however, diet is all individual. To each his or her own…just find the balance that works. It sucks that you’re hungry much of the time, but if the 1,500 calorie zone seems to be best for you, so be it.
All the same, I remain damned jealous of those folks who can stay in shape with minimal effort or attention to diet, if only because of all the time they have to devote to things other than physical fitness.
I am sorry the crappy metabolism issue afflicts you, too. Although it is a good excuse for us to run, and I love running.
Actually, when I am being good, I also eat significantly less than 1500 calories. 1500 is for days when I’m being sloppy – which do happen. But like you, I find it annoying being labeled on caloric intake alone – I look healthy and feel healthy (except for being hungry, which is a drag). As I often say to people, “Do I LOOK anorexic??” (I don’t).
So I don’t actually post my “calorie number” publically. Also, I have an instinct as an educator not to encourage students to follow my exact example – the point is that everyone should be finding his or her own best fit. But it’s really hard to convey that message, because everyone seems to want a recipe for fitness handed to them, and naturally thin people seem completely unable to believe that fat people can be eating less than they are. Sigh.
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