Thursday, March 17, 2011

Nobody Likes a Fatty

Egged on by a couple of friends who are much healthier than I am, I recently downloaded an iPhone app (My Fitness Pal) that takes your age, height, weight, general activity level, and goal weight, and tells you your daily calorie limit. You then enter in anything you eat or drink, plus any cardio you do, and it lets you know if you're over or under your limit.

Being a bit bored at work for the time being, I gave in and decided I would use this app for a couple of weeks. I figured it wouldn't hurt to be a little more aware of what I put in my mouth every day. (I feel like I should change the way I ended that last sentence, but I really can't be bothered.)

What was probably most surprising was the fact that
my diet is apparently not nearly as hideous as I thought it was. Not that I tend to fall asleep with half a stick of butter hanging out of my mouth or anything, but I had just imagined that all the take away lunches and occasional cookies were doing more damage. Turns out you actually have to eat an entire box of cookies every day to get as huge as some of the people you see in any video footage of middle America. Good to know.

Of course those positive results were for most days. I quickly decided to stop recording what I consumed on the weekends, because as it turns out, just a few beers is like eating an additional meal. Which means the amount I drink on your average Friday or Saturday is akin to me eating two lunches and two dinners that day. Unhealthy ones, too. DAMNIT.

(Translation for Americans: "You gonna be FAT.")

In any case, I've decided that this is the last week I'll be recording any of this stuff. If I wanted to be told every day how fat I'm getting, I would have adopted a Jewish mother a long time ago.

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