Thursday, July 2, 2009

I love it when reality contradicts crazy food fads/advice.

I've always been a bit sensititive about my weight. Mind you, this is not because I am or have always been huge--as a kid, I had the typical baby fat, but also played soccer and danced. As an adult, I run between two and three miles, three days a week, weight-training and only doing one mile on "off" days. I'm a size 8, 130 lb. woman who eats mostly fruits, veggies, and fiber, runs a 7:30 mile, and will beat the hell out of any doctor who says I could stand to lose a few.

But occasionally I obsess a bit about what I eat...or when I eat it, thanks to a doc who noted that at 133 and 5'2", I had a BMI that marked me as "slightly overweight," and I should cut out the late-night snacks. (And also that I should try to start an after-dinner walking group with my college girlfriends. Perhaps instead of running 8:00 miles and training every day?)

I adopted the "beat the hell out of people who say this" stance over a year ago, when the appointment took place, but still beat myself up when I eat after, say, seven p.m. or so--even when I'm eating dinner at 10 after refereeing from 4--9:30. A. and I quibble over this every so often...it always ends with him reminding me that, if I want my body to perform, I've got to feed it. Humph. (As we speak, he's actually out snagging Arby's for both of us. Yum.)

While he's gone, I have some time to kill. Enter a little independent research.


Take that, well-intentioned-but-incorrect medical advice. My food is here, and I'm hungry.

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