“You have an unhealthy relationship with food,” Jason remarked, somewhat casually, after witnessing the satisfaction I got from eating a particularly crisp batch of crinkle-cut french fries. And he was right. But, just like an addict, I have everything under control. No, really, I do.
As John Walker hammers home 2^37 times in The Hacker’s Diet, weight loss is incredibly easy. Just consume less energy than your body requires to function, and your body will take what it needs from your fat stores. It really is that easy — it’s staying on track that’s the tough part. The longer I stay on Weight Watchers, the more weight I lose (down to 213 — only 2 more pounds to my 10% goal), but I’ve had to resort to some mental hacking to keep things interesting.
For one thing, the Weight Watchers “points” values are a slightly skewed calculation of (calories/50)=number of “points”. The actual formula, which somehow inexplicably got patented, is this:
In the above, r represents fiber. So up to 4 grams of dietary fiber are subtracted from the calculation. What does this mean? It means that you can essentially stuff your gaping maw with Fiber One cereal every hour of the day and, unless your stomach is the size of a large pumpkin, will never hit your points for the day.
More fun can be had by skipping a meal — yes, exactly what they tell you not to do. I find that I can have a single yogurt for breakfast, then a lean lunch of grilled chicken and steamed veggies, and then I can eat pretty much whatever the hell I want for dinner. This is not recommended and certainly not the most healthy way to diet. It is, however, the most fun. By front-loading all of my points toward a single meal, I get to revisit my young adulthood by making the trek to the best burger/dog joint in the entire world: Superdawg. Unhealthy front-loading means I get to enjoy a Supercheesie with a chocolate malt and still be under my points for the day:
Remember kids, it’s not a true Supercheesie unless the relish is NEON GREEN:
In addition to being one of the worst ways you can eat, front-loading is also the hardest to stay focused on. I find that if I’m hungry — not a “I need food to live” hungry, but rather an “I’m anxious and want to calm myself down with food” hungry — I can just chug diet cokes until that feeling goes away. No, I’m not a role model.
“You have an unhealthy relationship with food.” Yeah, well, I have no other vices. Maybe if I take up drinking, smoking, or drugs, I’ll stop coveting guilty-pleasure-food.