The Losing Battle

A blessing and a curse to my annual New Year's resolution to lose 30 pounds is that everybody else has a similar resolution, and those who don't have at one time gained or lost weight so basically everybody I come in contact with has some advice for me.

My closest working neighbor is no exception. Over the years he's lost at least half a person in weight, he's kept it off and the diet he follows is so pure and organic his aura alone can heal acne.

I don't doubt the dude is in seriously good shape. He's actually expressed concern that his metabolism is too fast, and he has to be careful to limit some physical activities while adding some unhealthy foods so that he doesn't slim down into thin air. Just standing up twice a day can make his pants looser.

He's achieved this state through what I'm referring to as the Small Woodland Creature diet. He doesn't eat small woodland creatures, but he eats like a squirrel, assuming a squirrel will occasionally suck back a can of tuna or skinless chicken breast.

Throughout the day, he'll eat nuts, berries and other "pure" foods. Foods should be eaten in a certain order, and he takes supplements and other nutrients in tasty powder form.

He claims to fall ill if he eats any junk, and he can supposedly taste the granules of sugar should he allow himself a dessert and he finds it disgusting.

There is no question he's healthy and lean. His body is a calibrated machine, so finely tuned he probably vibrates in the presence of low noises. On the other hand, I'm constipated despite eating enough fibre to allow a normal person to poo on command. I acknowledge he and I are on a different path.

However.

I really like food. By food, I don't strictly mean items containing nutrients. By that rationale, tree bark is food. I expect my food to taste good, smell good, and in the absence of any relationship, I expect food to replace happiness and sex. I also like food with icing.

I don't expect my food to be limited to whatever is growing alongside a wooded path. To me, that's garnish. Not food.

My co-worker and I have argued over the meaning and purpose of food. To him, food is strictly fuel. While I admit food is an excellent preventative measure against starvation, it should also be a pleasure. Perhaps not all of the time, or as often as I would prefer, but the majority of meals should pass as enjoyable.

He's winning this argument even as I type. He has visible abs and I have a distended belly. My digestive system may betray me, but dessert never has. I'll always prefer my nuts and berries atop of my cheesecake.