Sure Loser

I was reading a post on weight control over at Jane Galt's blog that got me thinking about my own weight control issues. My disgust with my weight started at the age of 12 when I was deep into puberty and realized my body was changing. My mother had always had weight issues and attended a weight watcher's-like group called,"Sure Losers." I should have realized by the name alone that this was a meeting for a 12-year old to stay from--but no such luck. My older sister and I begged my mom to take us with her to the meetings.

I will never forget the first time I walked into a group of 20 or so ladies who were of all age ranges--their only commonality seemed to be excess weight and a need to obsess over calories. The group leader's name was "Babe" and she was a short 70-year old who wore long gowns that would have been more appropriate at the Opera than at a weight watcher's meeting in the basement of her home. At my first weigh-in, I got on the scale and it tipped to 130 pounds--I was only five foot four at that point. "Wow, I used to weigh a lot less," I said, to which Babe replied, "when was that--when you were four? and gave a hearty laugh. Rather than pack up in disgust, I attended the meetings faithfully and listened to all that Babe spouted about how to eat. The tidbit I picked up most readily and held onto like it was gold instead of poison was, "You never need to eat another piece of candy as long as you live." I actively avoided all sugar and was already a vegetarian and thought somehow, I would always be healthy if I just avoided candy. Boy, was I wrong.

I spent the next years watching what I ate and exercising and running to keep myself healthy. I thought that eating sugar was a sign of weakness and only when my body would be so desperate for calories that I would crack and eat Tofutti during graduate school did I realize what I had been missing. I eventually became fairly plump from this endeavor--take a look at the calorie count on Tofutti and you will know why--especially if you eat a whole carton. The stuff is loaded with fat and calories. My family always looked at me with dismay when I would join them for a meal. I only had certain things I would eat that were healthy, fat free and vegetarian. Later on, after I stopped all of this foolishness, I told my mother how I had listened to Babe and thought I was never supposed to eat candy again. She gave me a puzzled look and said, "Why did you listen, no one else did!"

She was right--I never should have listened. I cannot say that any of the calorie restriction or dedicated exercise really helped my health. In fact, I sometimes wonder secretly if I ruined it. After all, at 37, I had a heart attack. The doctors say that this would not be caused by anything except bad luck, but I am not always sure. After my heart attack, I never tried to diet again. I am 5 feet 6 inches and weighed about 110 pounds at the time of my heart attack. I now weigh about 124. I swore that I would never let myself get hungry again and I don't. I eat candy when I feel like it--just had some really good peppermints last night-Yum!

I don't know why it took me so long to realize that no food in the world can make me immune to disease, aging and dying. Maybe I am just a "Sure Loser." However, with my new found knowledge, I feel disgusted when people talk about fat people being so unhealthy--they are not necessarily. I have seen overweight people in the past fly by me in a race, live into old age and generally do better in a lot of ways. I am not saying obesity is the answer, but then neither is being a twig.