File this one under “fat is a feminist issue” — WBUR radio host Rachel Zimmerman asks I’m Finally Thin — But Is Living In A Crazymaking Food Prison Really Worth It?
I spend an inordinate, and frankly embarrassing amount of time thinking about food, planning meals and strategizing about how to control my weight. It’s on my mind pretty much every waking hour of every day and the details are painfully banal: how many pumpkin seeds in my nonfat yogurt; will a green smoothie pack on an extra ounce or two; can I eat dinner early so my weight the next morning will be optimally low?
If I don’t exercise (Every. Single. Day.) I get depressed. If I stray from my short list of accepted foods, I can spiral out of control. My life is bound by a strict system of controls and rigid rules (maintained with a pack-a-day gum-chewing habit) that keep my weight in line. These include daily digital scale checks that set my mood each morning: 102.9 is bad news; 100.4 gets me high. Trivial? Yes. A shamefully first-world problem? Absolutely. But, sadly, true.
This reminds me of Amy Pershing’s term “robbery” to describe what happens when women obsess about their weight and appearance.
I don’t think this is a good way to live.
Weight Maven is written by Beth Mazur. Beth believes that obesity is more symptom than cause and that the real problem is our Western diet -- especially sugar, refined grains, and industrial oils. Beth writes about nutrition, ancestral health, & food policy. And cats! 
Possibly tangential, but what always fascinates me about these articles is the women who comment saying they count calories/watch their food/exercise/etc. and feel liberated by it or at least not deprived. I see it a lot in comments to these kinds of “hey guys, eating healthy is HARD WORK” articles that tend to at least raise the question of whether or not it’s healthy to obsess over weight and food.
I always wonder if these commenters are sincere or just desperately trying to convince themselves - and of course, I’ll never know. But I find it interesting that this type of article so predictably provokes these responses.
Of course it’s not worth it. Zimmerman probably meant well, but it’s this false dichotomy of ‘thin and crazy and miserable’ vs. ‘contentedly fat’ that is so deleterious. Sustainable doesn’t mean effortless, and the initial development of probably any good habit initially takes a lot of effort, but if it permanently makes you feel on the verge of coming unhinged, something is wrong.
I am curious as to why it would not become a habit after long enough, at least to some degree. Personally, I find that if I eat the same way long enough there is very little thought involved anymore.
Sadly, her symptoms are “normal”. Most people who lose a significant amount of weight become obsessed with food. They also lose hair and become cold all the time. It is the expected outcome. It happens to lean people getting emaciated, but it also happens to fat people getting lean (or even just less fat). It was more widely recognized in older studies (Jules Hirsch comes to mind). Today, it is denied, dismissed, minimized, etc.
To the previous commenters: habit does not solve the problem. Contrary to addiction (where abstinence becomes easier with time), starvation symptoms never abate, except when people regain the weight they lost. A few (perhaps many, according to low-carb enthusiasts) people are lucky enough to find a way of maintaining weight loss without going crazy. It seems most of us, unfortunately, will have to choose between having a life and being fat, or reaching a socially acceptable weight and devoting our entire life to maintaining it.
Habit should mean finding something that works for you, not something you do every day but always takes superhuman effort. I *was* a lean person who emaciated myself to the brink. That was hell. I don’t think Zimmerman’s methods are working for her. But if I could eventually find a way of eating that keeps me healthy in mind and body, I think others can, too.
Scary to think that this woman is one and half inches shorter than me and weighs twenty pounds less. I wouldn’t be surprised if she lost a lot of fat and a lot of muscle. I was 100 at one point and looked skeletal and terrible.
I agree with you, this is not a great way to live. Her habits, which may be common, are not normal.
This is so upsetting. I understand what this is like, having worked as a model, it was a big part of my job to keep my weight in check. One of the big reasons I strayed from that career is because of the way it takes over your life, one workout and skim latte at a time. It’s sad that women will go through the above because they think it will make them happy. Where is the shame in living a life free from counting calories?
People like Rachel need an honest blue print for how to survive the cycles of maintenance. Authors who get published by mainstream publishers or interviewed by the likes of Dr. Oz are limited in the stances they can take. And it’s getting annoyingly trite! They can write from a “no excuses” standpoint and harangue at people, or they can take a “Gee whiz, it’s just a zippity do dah lifestyle!” and “If I can do it, anyone can!” tack. They can give a hat tip to the difficulty of the process, but they have to return to their “tough love” or “inspirational” meme. The social pressure, and the pressure from publishers is intense.
What we desperately need are more honest books/blogs etc. on the day-to-day life of maintenance. It’s a sea change in attitude. First we need to acknowledge what that day-to-day life entails, how it cycles, etc. Then we need to provide strategies for how to manage the stress and depression that Rachel is beginning to recognize. How to manage orthopedic changes over time. How to manage the various kinds of hunger that happen to people who are weight reduced and have an altered endocrine profile. How to minimize the time and mental real estate that one must devote to maintenance. How to recognize unhelpful and non-applicable advice, even when it comes from medical professionals and others who should know better but don’t. It all starts with honesty. Assuming she isn’t in full-blown anorexia, what Rachel is experiencing in maintenance is real and difficult in its own rite. I hope someone acknowledges that to her satisfaction. Sadly, once she knows it’s as complex as she suspects it is, she has NO HELP whatsoever in figuring it out. We know all too well in this culture how to lose weight, but we do not even acknowledge that maintenance is the real issue! No wonder only three percent of people who lose radical amounts of weight are maintaining those losses at 5 years (according to empirical research). Everyone is re-inventing their own damn wheel. Grr.
Hi Debra,
I am glad to see you posting again. I absolutely agree with you: if we want to solve the maintenance problem, we first have to honestly acknowledge the difficulties. The “lifestyle not diet” motto is downright insulting.
A bit off topic, but I thought you might be able to inform me: among the 3% or so 5-year maintainers, what is the rate of success after another 5 years? Do you have any idea? I am wondering how many are white-knuckling it (and will regain eventually) and how many have actually found a diet (or way of eating, or lifestyle) that lets them have a life and still maintain their weight loss.
Valerie
Sad to say, I have found NO studies that go beyond five years. At five years, people are assumed to be “cured” I guess. With regard to “white knuckling” — I think that’s a semantic as much as psychological issue. I go through stages when I’m angry that I have to do what I have to do, and exhausted. And jealous of natural weight people who can take “vacations” from exercise (several days at a time) and splurge on treats bigger than a square of dark chocolate. I go through other stages when I’m medically challenged to do what needs to be done — put out of commission by emergency surgery, for example. During these times I feel like I’m white-knuckling. And there is no one I can turn to, really. No counselor who gets this. No doctor. Fortunately, my really dark times have passed of their own accord, generally. So, then I just get stoic, and do what I gotta do, and I give my maintenance the least amount of mental real estate and time that I’m able, which is still considerable, but not the third- or half-time job that it has been in the past. It’s not something I’d describe as “white knuckling.”
The reason it had to be a half-time job earlier was because, as I indicate above, there is a very small body of literature that addresses maintenance specifically. And none of those is a definitive text, and if they pretend to be that’s the first sign that they’re the work of a charlatan.
Those of us who do radical weight-loss maintenance must cobble together what works for us by trial and error and by using research from scientific journals and reading books on exercise, nutrition, dieting, etc., through a lens that sorts out various theories and agendas that are not useful to us. It’s horribly time consuming. But I think I’ve arrived at a place that, barring a medical interruption (another bowel obstruction?), I can keep going for a while more. I’m now in my eleventh year. Just managed a 10-pound reloss, too. I’m at 57 pounds below highest established weight. My lowest plateau was minus 68 pounds from highest established weight. Sigh. Periodically, I check in on science journals, read certain blogs (like this one) and get a pulse on new developments, but I’m not doing nearly the research I used to. Just stoically plodding on.
Thanks for your answer Debra.
I maintained (past tense, sigh) a 70ish pound loss for 7 years (then gained 100 in a freakishly short time), but I was definitely white knuckling it. I was always hungry (though that didn’t bother too much, I just learned to live with it). I was cold all the time, I lost much of my hair, my periods stopped, etc. All standard starvation symptoms, except that I was not even skinny, just not fat anymore.
For me, by far, the most annoying “side effect” of weight loss was the food obsession. I am not sure if that is what you mean by mental real estate. The planning and counting was tolerable (again, I just learned to live with it), but the recurring, persistent, intrusive food thoughts made my life miserable. I couldn’t focus on anything not related to food (my job suffered quite a bit), and all my other interest disappeared. Did this happen to you? Any idea how to manage that?
“Mental real estate” can be divided between food thoughts, which bubble from the subconscious, and intentional thoughts — that would include planning and counting, as well as related thinking. The way I dealt with the former was to replace it with more of the latter. I don’t know whether it was healthy, but I went into overdrive with regard to scientific research on obesity, endocrine, weight-related social science, and the like. I started my blog.
Many weight-loss maintainers go into professional fields (full- or part-time) that make it possible to combine their maintenance with making a living — they become RDs, physical trainers, aerobics instructors, etc., where their research is either part of the job or at least not seen as disordered. I had people close to me dress me down a few times for my “obsession,” since it wasn’t related to a vocation. “Why can’t you just relax?” Or “Good Lord, are you going to go on one of your rants now?” (When you do this kind of research, you do want to rant, I must say, with all kinds of verbal pie charts and bar graphs and stuff that people who do not struggle with weight DO NOT want to hear. They perceive it as a violence, I think. They really just wish you’d shut up and live the zippy Jillian Michaels lifestyle, like a good former fattie.)
You know, in retrospect, I would say my chosen method is the healthiest way to deal with the issue, as it may be the ONLY way other than regaining the weight. I don’t know anyone who has just relaxed and been a good former fattie. Some take the optimistic “inspirational” route, but they sure aren’t relaxed (and I find them very hard to take, since the message is always translated into an excuse to blame the victim — anyone who cannot maintain losses).
I think you may know, I’m in seminary now and no longer blogging. You know what my side project is? A book. Working title: Fat is a Spiritual Issue. It’s a hat tip to “Fat is a Feminist Issue.” Essentially, I’m going to talk about how the manner that we regard fat itself and fat people in our society is, first of all, unChristian. (Maybe our lovely blog host here with also help me write about how it is unUnitarian. We could separate how it is immoral from how it is unethical. Hmmm!) Recently my Christian Heritage professor revealed that many of the early desert Ammas and Abbas practiced extreme fasting because they interpreted “Original Sin” to be . . . wait for it . . . eating! Can you BUH-LIEVE it?! Adam and Eve “ate” . . . that was the sin . . . a fruit forbidden by God. Let’s just ignore the nuance that the fruit was from the particular tree of “wisdom of good and evil” — in other words “JUDGMENT.” What an irony, methinks! To my thinking, all these yahoos who would dare to judge people for their weight are the ones engaging in original sin — they are putting themselves in God’s stead and pronouncing moral judgment. But I am a minority voice. Again. I’m used to it. Sigh. My hope is that whereas mainstream publishers have rejected my writing, perhaps religious publishers have a different set of criteria.
This is an interesting conversation. I wish it were more common. I wish it didn’t happen only when blog comments get hijacked by people like us ;) (Sorry Beth for taking over your space.)
I, like you Debra, ended up reading a whole lot about nutrition, biology, etc. Still do. I think it is quite common among maintainers. I didn’t turn it into a career (I think that would have been unhealthy, especially for my clients / patients) but I can easily see how someone would go that route, if only to be able, as you say, to make a living when food obsession won’t abate.
That thought is actually quite scary: the only way to maintain a weight below what your body naturally wants (the weight you settle at when you eat wholesome foods when you’re hungry, stop when you’re satisfied, and move in enjoyable amounts) is to make it an actual job. It might actually be true. How sad.
To make society thin, we would have to end up with, let’s say, 50% of the population working as RDs, trainers, chefs, etc. Yeah, right. Plus, people giving advice on weight loss (those RDs and trainers) would themselves engage in extreme / disordered behaviors in order to maintain their own weight. Ha!
All those (naturally lean) people pretending that weight loss / leanness should be mandatory because for its supposed health benefits clearly leave out mental health, probably deny the physical effects of substantial weight loss (infertility, osteoporosis, etc.) or are just simply lying.
I think doctors recommending weight loss should be required to tell their patients what the side effects are expected to be. Not telling, the current practice, is unethical. Imagine if a drug had those side effects. You would want to know before you take it, and doctors would be required to tell you.
I hope you’re not suggesting that ‘naturally lean’ people who advocate finding a low-effort lifestyle for weight maintenance are glibly dismissing all sorts of issues related to weight maintenance.
Full-blown anorexia nervosa? Pretty sure Zimmerman isn’t there, but I’ve been there. So I don’t for one second deny the physical effects of substantial weight loss. In fact, if you want, I could regale you with some horror stories in that regard.
That’s the very reason why I advocate the lifestyle approach. Whatever lifestyle is easiest for a given person, in terms of physical AND mental health. That goes hand-in-hand with HAES, though I concede I don’t know what it’s like to face weight discrimination and so if I am glib in any way, it’s that maybe I don’t understand how hard it would be for HAES to go mainstream.
I just cannot agree more with Beth when she concludes regarding diet micromanagement above, ‘I don’t think this is a good way to live.’
P2ZR,
I would say HAES is the only ethical approach I have heard of. But it does not lead to substantial weight loss, nor does it enable maintenance of substantial weight loss, which are what I was talking about. It certainly doesn’t pretend that leanness should be mandatory (which is the attitude I took issue with when I mentionned naturally lean people).
Low-effort lifestyles might help for general health (for both lean and fat people, I might add), but it won’t cure obesity. It won’t help an obese person reach and maintain a socially acceptable weight.
I guess I should recognize that there are exceptions to this. I heard of a few people who lost large amounts of weight rather painlessly with a low-carb diet, or with a fat-free vegan diet, or with *insert pretty much any diet / lifestyle here*. However, they are very few and might be short-lived. To be honest, I still hope to be one of them one day, but I refuse to devote my life to it.
As the comments go on, they get taller and leaner. I’m going to “open up” the conversation a bit with a new post, not a reply, but I’m still in the thread.
Valerie: Your comment on doctors having to expound on the side-effects of dieting just suddenly tickled me. I imagined them talking as quickly and with the self-important voice of one of those commercials for anti-depressants. “Side effects could include hair loss, menstrual interruption, food preoccupation, repeated regain and reloss which results in a higher natural weight, depression, gall stones, a weakened heart muscle and suppressed immune system. Don’t go to chain restaurants that decide their menus by focus group while losing or maintaining loss, as you may experience a sudden overdose in hidden fat and sugars. Consult your doctor if you experience a freakishly fast regain after plateau, as this might indicate you are unsuitable for weight-loss dieting.”
You know, the reason these conversations are rare is because there are so few true maintainers — seven years qualifies you, Valerie. You beat the research time tables. When a maintainer finds another, there’s no guarantee that they’ll have anything in common. The two legit maintainers in my town that I know are both personal trainers who are 20- and 30-years younger than I am, and don’t have the orthopedic or menopausal issues. One of them, the one who’s been maintaining longer, agrees with me that “lifestyle” language is troublesome. We do have that as common ground.
Now that spurs another thought: when you are a maintainer part of the “white knuckle” package is to maintain the “inspirational” attitude (which includes the “lifestyle” language). It’s not unlike — dare I go here — cancer. In her book Bright Sided, Barbara Ehrenreich talks about how the very day she got her breast cancer diagnosis she was declared a “survivor,” and pink-ribboned to death with swag and “helpful” resources. She was continually bombarded with statements on how “inspirational” she was, though she didn’t feel it. Certain days she would want to express how horrible she felt and how difficult chemo was, and people on the message board would scold her for her “bad attitude,” which they claimed would not help her. Let me state something here: Honesty is HELPFUL! Moreover, honesty does not preclude optimism, but it makes it legit when it happens. Also, we need to restate that the conversation, honest or dishonest, is only beginning once the weight is lost. Sadly, in our society, it’s declared over at that time. Grr.
Don’t apologize!! This is a fab conversation and an important one. I don’t have the answers (wish I did), but I’m certainly interested in asking the right — or at least different — questions!
Debra, I would LOVE to see the warnings about side effects at the end of a Weight Watchers add. Maybe we could also have pictures of hairless gaunt-faced, sad, cold women on every diet products, like they do for cigarettes. ;)
You are so right about the taboo regarding the true difficulties of weight maintenance. Can you imagine TV shows celebrating weight losers, following them in their real lives, showing just how “disordered” their behaviors are (maybe the word disordered is not quite right, but I think you understand my point)? It would turn into a PSA about the dangers of dieting. The diet industry surely wouldn’t like this. But I also believe public health authorities would hate to have their interventions exposed as being so harmful. There is a lot of money and politics invested in making sure weight loss is seen as a Good Thing.
I don’t know exactly how your orthopedic problems showed up, but I remember breaking my arm at some point during my years of maintenance. It didn’t stop me from exercising, not even one day. How wrong is that? I needed the (excessive) exercise to reach caloric equilibirum. Plus, not exercising made me even more worried about the food. Looking at the National Weigth Control Registry, it seems that I was quite typical. Many weight maintainers are doomed to develop overuse injuries. Plus, as you mentioned, if daily vigorous exercise is mandatory for someone to maintain, they are again doomed. Sh*t will happen in their lives. There will be times when the required level of exercise won’t be possible.
I see above, it didn’t register as a new comment, but a reply. Sigh. I continued our comment diet.
Here’s my “maybe this is disordered” story. Following my second emergency bowel obstruction surgery, I had my husband bring an aerobic video and mini player to my hospital room. It was a mild video, Leslie Sansone, but there I was in my hospital gown, holding my IV tree, doing side steps. The hospital staff thought it was “inspirational.” I had my doubts. It was painful. I was supposed to walk the halls to help recovery, but doing Leslie in my room meant I had more control over when I did it and for how long, and I didn’t have to bother with getting on a second gown (backwards) to cover my butt.
My orthopedic issue was (is) with my left foot, mostly. It can put me out of commission completely. This summer I lost three days in a row, which put me in a mental panic that only a maintainer can understand and forgive. I’ve had one surgery on that foot. My joints also are barking — if I walk too far on concrete or dare to run for even a mile. Ibuprofen is a friend of mine.
I don’t know whether the TV series on maintainers would really convey the message accurately. Like I said, the nurses on the surgery wing at St. Luke’s North saw what I was doing and thought I was a regular Ghandi. Hey, who am I to argue with that?
I maintained a 100+ weight loss for a couple of years being essentially exercise bulemic. I was walking 9 miles a day, rowing in the summer, and working out for an hour on the Stairmaster in the off-season. This lasted until my mom died, and a few years later, when I was in therapy to talk about this and the weight re-gain, I remember my then therapist talking about how if you’re going to be addicted to something, it might as well be exercise. Score one for the apparent virtue of “eat less, move more” eh?
Wow. Walking 9 miles a day plus other miscellaneous stuff. I’m dumbfounded that therapists do not recognize it for what it is. Exercise bulimia is an accurate descriptor, and rarely used unless you’re maintaining a BMI of under 18. It had to get in the way of a productive life for you, and yet our society has decided that nothing is more productive than avoiding obesity, and at any cost — worn out joints, opportunity cost in terms of lost time that could have gone toward education, etc. All this is considered worth the human expense because obesity is “associated” with certain co-morbidities. Unethical. Immoral. If I make any ground on my book, I may be contacting you.
I don’t think exercise bulimia can really be called an addiction. Not in the way that restricting or bingeing or purging are addictions. I remember too well that prison, that horrible debilitating fear of what would happen if I didn’t get to my arbitrary minimum of physical exertion.
I’ve also experienced the true enjoyment of exercise, so I can understand exercise addiction as getting hooked on the process or ensuing endorphins. But to mistake the wretchedly compulsive fear-driven state of exercise bulimia for exercise ‘addiction’, especially for a therapist, indeed does blow the mind.