There are menacing spirits about tonight. Truly horrifying, ghastly ghouls in shiny, enticing packages. Resting ominously in bowls, baskets and bags, they await their jolly little prey. With the power of the Pied Piper, they will lead all manner of small witches, scarecrows, Spidermen, vampires, princesses, cowboys and gypsies toward ebullient, screeching glee, then sugar shock and moody mayhem this evening. Dastardly little devils, aren’t they…?
I watched The Biggest Loser last week – as well as the prior week’s opener, thanks to TiVo. I know what you’re thinking, but, hey, it’s my job and it has to be done. Truth is, I figure it’s about time someone shook America by the lapels and exposed the myths and fallacies in this show, which has become one of the most popular on TV. With all the glowing coverage, the average viewer is starting to think The Biggest Loser somehow represents the indomitability of the human spirit and the triumph of modern bariatric medicine. Actually, nothing could be further from the truth. It’s a made-for-TV spectacle that has morphed into a cruel hoax perpetrated on the typical overweight person in America who is desperately looking for the weight-loss secret. It shows precisely how NOT to lose weight. Talk about two steps forward and three steps back. A few years ago, I suggested in this post that there were a few things right with the show (I still took them to task for their sponsor choices) but I’ve changed my mind. If this season’s opener, in which two morbidly obese, untrained contestants nearly died trying to race a mile in the heat, is any indication, nothing will do more to prolong the current obesity epidemic than a fixation on the Biggest Loser and its yelling, screaming, puking, crying, collapsing, extreme dieting, six-hour workout mentality. Hell, if I were an obese person watching all this, I’d be thinking, “dude, if this is what it takes to lose the weight, pass me another Twinkie and let’s see what’s on VH1.”
A while back, I gave a bit of Link Love to Nature’s Platform (thanks, NeoPaleo), a contraption that fits over regular toilets and allows users to squat instead of sit. I included it mainly for the laughs, a bit of tongue-in-cheek (no, not that cheek – the other one!) ribald humor that was somewhat relevant to the Primal lifestyle (because let’s face it, Grok was definitely a squatter), but then I got to thinking: maybe there really is something to squatting. At the very least, I owed it to our bowels to look a bit deeper into the subject, to try to get to the bottom of it, as it were.
It’s hard to go anywhere in the nutritional blogosphere without happening across that ubiquitous Michael Pollan quote being bandied about: “Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” I like Pollan, and I mostly agree with said quote (though I’d add, at the very least, “and plenty of animals”). It made me think that perhaps the Primal community would be well served with a reservoir of instant quips. So on the heels of last week’s related post (fantastic Grokkus, by the way) I threw these together. Use them to quickly explain the Primal stance to friends and family. Live by them and thrive.
Eat food. Only when hungry. Mostly plants and animals.
Our genes prefer us to be lean, fit, strong and happy. Let them have their way.
The world is your gym. Try to go every day. Guest passes are free.
Make your long, slow workouts longer and slower and your hard, fast workouts harder and faster.
It’s practically inevitable. We mean, of course, the attempts at explanation met with blank stares, odd questions, and suspicious concern. Of course, the best argument for the Primal eating plan is the story and success of each person who makes it his/her own. (And always feel free to point any skeptics/otherwise interested parties our way to learn more! Everybody has to start somewhere on their road to health! We take all kinds.) Nonetheless, after the 54th time you’ve been told by another ill-informed conventional wisdom devotee that you’re on the brink of a heart attack, you might be looking for more creative comebacks.
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