New Year’s Resolution: Push Away from the Table

JANUARY 4, 2004
By GREGORY J. RUMMO

WHEN I READ the latest statistics on obesity reported on the front page of The Wall Street Journal last October I was stunned. “Between 1986 and 2000, the number of individuals who are clinically obese, or 100 pounds overweight, quadrupled to about one in 50 adult Americans. The prevalence of obesity in general roughly doubled to about one in five adults, according to the study in the current issue of the Archives of Internal Medicine,” the paper reported.

In September 2002 during my annual physical checkup, my doctor recommended that I lose 20 pounds. I weighed 193 at the time and was wearing size 44 suits. Size 38 waist pants were becoming increasingly uncomfortable. I felt like Rodney Dangerfield who complained, “I was so fat, when I got my shoes shined, I had to take the guy’s word for it!”

A brand new, state-of-the-art gym was set to open later that same month literally next door to the building where my office is located. I immediately joined and began a rigorous five-day per week program of cardio-vascular fitness.

But eight months later the scale at the doctor’s office told the sad tale. I was now 196  despite eight months of blood, sweat and tears.

“You are eating too much food!” The doctor lectured. “Portion control! — that’s the secret to weight loss. Why don’t you join Weight Watchers? — I know,” he said reading my mind, “It’s a bunch of women but everybody I know who joins loses weight — it works.”

I had tried several diets before. I lost weight on the Atkins diet as well as on my own low-carbohydrate, low fat regiment of torture. But obviously, at 196 pounds, my attempts had all fallen short in their ability to keep the weight off permanently.

The next day I signed up at the local Weight Watchers and met Angela Caffrey, the perky, svelte, 5-foot-2 leader of the group that met in Pompton Plains.

Her story was similar to mine. “I tried everything else but Weight Watchers and failed,” she explains. “For 30 years I was overweight. I was born 11 pounds and it went uphill from there.” She blamed her parents for her obesity. “It had nothing to do with the Twinkies,” she says.

After attending her first Weight Watchers meeting she realized it would work for her. “I knew people were losing weight in the program. It was my last hope.”

Fearing a huge change in lifestyle was about to descend upon her, she went out to the diner for a last fling. “It was like the Last Supper. I thought my life was over. I wanted pancakes or French toast so I ordered both.”

Looking at Angela today, you’d never believe she could have weighed 75 pounds more than she does now.

Those who attend her classes speak well of her. William Ollila is one of her success stories. Bill joined the program in January 2003. He weighed in at a hefty 219 pounds. By July, he had lost 71 pounds and was boasting that he now could fit into his Armani suit.

In my first 10 weeks I lost the 20 pounds my doctor had recommended. But I was still sporting a spare tire — albeit a smaller one — so I didn’t stop. Continuing my exercise program and adding weight training to the aerobics regime, I dropped another 10 pounds. I’ve had to replace my entire wardrobe. I even had to have my school ring re-sized.

The success of the Weight Watchers program is its approach to keeping track of food through the points system, something I first thought was another weight-loss gimmick. But by assigning foods point values; portion size, calories, fat and fiber content can be monitored all at the same time.

There are no special diet foods you have to eat. After eating a daily requirement of fruits, vegetables and dairy products, you can eat anything else you want, including things like ice cream, peanut butter and cookies — in moderation, of course.

During one meeting, Angela asked various members to tell her what foods they thought would be taboo. For every example cited, she was able to offer a lower point substitute.

“Hero rolls,” someone shouted out. “I gotta have hero rolls!”
“Calandra’s Bakery makes hero rolls,” she countered. “They are sold in packages of six in supermarkets. They have only 90 calories, no fat and only two points.” And so it went on for the next 15 minutes.

The victimization crowd is quick to blame the fast food industry for the blubbering of America but it’s no one’s fault but our own.

Nobody puts a gun to your head and forces you to stuff your face. But some of us may need to put a knife to our throats, or at least, push away from the table — a great new year’s resolution for 2004. n

Gregory J. Rummo is a syndicated columnist with the New Jersey Herald. Read all of his columns on his homepage, www.GregRummo.com. E-Mail Rummo at  GregoryJRummo@aol.com