bearing blog

Old hypothesis:

1. I have always been overweight because I ate too much (for a variety of reasons) and didn't exercise consistently.  Severe low-carb diets helped me lose some weight between pregnancies,  possibly because it eliminates many foods over which I have little self-control.
2. I had limited success in severe low-carbing is past time because I just couldn't stick to it long enough to go into ketosis consistently, even though I tried off and on for years.  The nausea and fatigue were just too hard to get through even though I knew it would be temporary.
3. I decided to commit to swimming twice a week, for its own sake (I wanted to be a person who exercises) in January. 
4. After 6 months of sticking to it, I hadn't lost any weight, but I was much fitter and I had learned that I was capable of change.  This gave me confidence.
5. I also, around this time, asked God to remove all attachment to food that wasn't the Eucharist.
6. Some combination of grace and my new confidence caused me to think I should and could try eating less food, a possibility that had I had not believed would work for me before.
7. I tried it and found myself able and willing.   It seemed especially luxurious not to be constantly denying myself bread and pasta and fruit as I had been for years, even though the quantities were limited, and that helped me accept the smaller quantities of everything.
8. I began to lose weight immediately, because I was consuming the appropriate amount of calories and not cheating, and the string of successes motivated me to continue for 6 months, at the end of which I was normal.

Proposed alternative hypothesis:

1. I grew up eating a shitload of sugar and refined grains and almost no fresh vegetables, and my insulin response feedback loop was seriously screwed up.

2. Years of what felt like trying and failing  to stick to a severe low-carb diet were, it turns out, years of adhering with growing consistency to a diet that was moderately restricted in carbohydrates overall, quite low in sugar, and high in fiber and fat.

3. My improving diet was improving my insulin response; although I couldn't see it happening, I was getting better, at the cellular level.  (Three data points:  my children's birth weights.  In 2000 – 10 lbs 11 oz.  In 2003 – 9 lbs 4 oz. In  2006 – 9 lbs 0 oz.)

4. When I started regular exercise in January, and stuck to it, the exercise also improved my insulin response loop.  This was truly new as I had never exercised consistently before for this long.

5. By the start of May, although I didn't know it, I was healed of my hyperinsulinemia.  My body began burning the excess fat reserves and functioning normally for the first time ever.

6. Not coincidentally, that's when I was moved to ask God to remove my attachment to food.   (Depending on your opinion of such things, you may interpret that my ill body had been creating fears that kept me from asking until right then.  Or you may interpret that God moved me to ask for a favor exactly at the time when I was prepared to receive the answer I hoped for.  Personally, I think there is not much difference between the two, humans being equally animal and spirit, and the whole loved and cared for by the God who designed us; but either interpretation fits into this hypothesis equally well, so choose what suits you.)

7. Some combination of grace and my newly healthy body caused me to realize that previously I had been eating far more food than I needed.  Now that I was physically healthy and/or God had removed my undue attachment to food, my old habits seemed insane and gluttonous and I didn't have any desire to eat that much anymore.  

8. The cravings and hunger that were ill-matched to my energy output now gone, it required no special willpower for me to restrict my calories and carbohydrates to a moderate level.  I enjoyed my food, I continued the same exercise regimen, and my body continued to burn the excess fat reserves, quite steadily.

9. When I reached my desired weight of 108 pounds I began the harder work of trying to keep it steady where my brain wanted it, instead of letting my body decide what to do.

Now you tell me… which do you think is the better explanation?

I’ve been exchanging a couple of emails with Jen of Conversion Diary about intentional eating.   She mentioned to me that she wanted to explore the difference between gluttony and addiction, and I thought I’d think about it too — it sounds like a worthy distinction to make.  

But as I prepared to think and write about gluttony and addiction, I realized that first you need to distinguish all the different reasons people eat.  They fall into three classes, I think.  Let’s start by listing the reasons people eat or fast.

What drives us to search for food and to eat?

(1) Hunger — that stomach-growling empty feeling, the “I could eat anything” feeling.  We feel it in our stomach, but apparently it’s not triggered merely by emptiness; insulin is involved, and the fuel available for cells.  Hunger is said to disappear, or at least to become tolerable, after a couple of days of fasting, or after a couple of days on a low-carb regimen.

(2)  Cravings — the obsessive desire for a particular food or class of food, independently of whether one is experiencing hunger.  I experience cravings as fatigue, mental fuzziness, anxiety, or distraction coupled with an intense certainty, borne of experience, that if only I eat something I will feel instantly better.  

(3) Social eating signals — Various social and cultural signals that one might not even notice:  for example, at a party where everyone else is eating, one might absentmindedly eat as part of being social.

(4) “Should” — The cognitive belief that one ought to eat, independently of hunger or cravings:  for example, eating now because there might not be enough food later, or eating a serving of vegetables because you believe they promote health, or eating dessert so you don’t hurt someone’s feelings.

What stops us from looking for food and eating?

(1) Satiety —  not the absence of hunger, but a positive signal of fullness or “enough”-ness that creates almost a revulsion towards the idea of putting more food (or more of one particular food) in one’s mouth.

(2) Not-eating signals — Social and cultural signals to stop eating, signals we might not notice we’re responding to:  we stop eating because the party has moved on to the after-dinner coffee and conversation.

(3) “Shouldn’t” — The cognitive belief that one ought not to eat:  for example, one might stop eating in order to leave enough food for other people, or to avoid giving the impression that one is a glutton, or because you think eating too much will make you gain weight.

Now let’s sort them into categories:   the biochemical, the social, and the cognitive.

Hunger and satiety and cravings are three different drives, and I am convinced all three are biochemical.  It is possible to resist all three of them, but it’s difficult.  Scratch that, it’s not strong enough.  Resisting hunger, satiety, or cravings creates suffering; we can’t know how badly other people suffer, and I think it’s charitable to assume that many people literally cannot tolerate the suffering of resisting those drives.

The drive to obey social and cultural signals for or against eating are, I assume, programmed into human beings and other social animals.  Exactly how those signals are conveyed is going to vary from group to group, and I am sure there are some attachment theorists or anthropologists who could write about it much better than I can, but I think I can sum it up as an unconscious drive to do what’s expected of us — including to eat in the way that we’re expected to eat — and thereby remain in the good graces of the group.  

“Shoulds” and “Shouldn’ts” are cognitive, and I assume they are the exclusive domain of human persons:  this is where we exercise our intellect and our will to affect our behavior.