Fat Camp

In truth I never actually went to Fat Camp. I only watched the MTV series "True Life: I Go To Fat Camp," which documents the experience of four teens and young adults as they conquer their fear of leafy greens and lose the weight (only to gain it back when summer ends and Christmas cookies are served). Obesity (especially childhood obesity) is a serious threat to both our national security and prestige. Sky rocketing health care costs are endangering our economy. America is outgrowing the world and not in a good way. Where once Americans were considered hot and chic, we are now considered fat and lazy. Obesity is an epidemic terrorizing all things trendy and organic.

I was not always so aware of the danger that deep fried cheese puffs, funnel cake, and bacon, egg and cheese bagels posed. My love of all things caloric and fattening has over the years been balanced with yo-yo dieting and sporadic exercise. I hope my story can be an example to all borderline chubby Americans.

Ah to be thin. I am not intimately acquainted with Skinny, we have more of a fleeting relationship that comes and goes. I largely blame my parents for any physical defect I exhibit. Whether it's clearly genetic like my unusually large feet, or something blatantly acquired like the bump resulting from my broken nose, they are undoubtedly somehow to blame. My mother is guilty of predisposing me towards a life of gluttonous desire by fattening me up before I even popped out of the womb. Melizabeth, a weight conscious woman herself, saw pregnancy as a 9 month free for all during which she maintained a steady diet of hamburgers, french fries, and milk shakes. Its a wonder I didn't come out smelling like McDonald's.

My father, a man concerned with looks and fitness (it is from him that I inherit my unabashed shallowness), made sure that my food neuroses were firmly in place by the time I was elevens, when unable to fit into clothes from the Kids section I was forced to buy Junior's jeans. It was then he put me on a strict bacon diet. Long a fan of hotel and restaurant breakfast buffets and lazy Saturdays filled with sizzling pork, I craved bacon at all times. My father banned me from the food I yearned for in hopes that it would curb weight gain and make my fingers less greasy. I remember those dark mornings, sitting at the kitchen table eating eggs and grapefruit watching as my thin sister munch away at the bacon in "moderation."

As time passed I turned to other foods to quench my undeniable hunger for grease. Grilled cheese and brownies were among my favorites. By thirteen I snapped into a slimjim everyday on my way home from school. Once home I settled into the sofa with a bowl of cereal and box of cookies. I was not exactly following the federal governments guideline to health via the food pyramid. The only things pyramid like in my diet were pizza and brie.

There were of course half hearted attempts at eating reform throughout the years. I remember the Richard Simmons days fondly. I found his infomercials inspiring and his short shorts ballsy. He rocked his jewfro with confidence and his man tanks with unbridled pizzaz. Maybe I too could put down that piece of chocolate cake and shake shake shake my booty to a new healthier me. Alas Richard and I were not meant to be. He advocated things requiring spandex and dedication, neither of which were my forte.

Then there was the eat only on the weekends diet. Microwave pizzas and cookie dough vanished the moment I got home from school on Fridays but come Monday morning it was celery and water. This worked shockingly well until the weekends started including Friday mornings and soon Thursday nights. It slowly devolved into an eat all the time and eat a lot diet.

My all time favorite diet was the brainchild of my father. It was Atkins inspired and involved low carb high protein foods. The trick was to eat absolutely no carbs (this included liquid carbs). There was of course a twist for one hour each day you could eat whatever you want - bread, pasta, chips, deep friend bagels, you name it. My father encouraged my sister and I to try out this outrageously unhealthy diet after his girlfriend at the time lost weight on it. It was the summer before I entered high school. I had just joined the freshman field hockey team and was working out for the first time in my life, change was afoot.

It's worth mentioning that at the time I was a vegetarian (who didn't really like vegetables). A no meat no card diet was limiting to say the least. 23 hours a day were filled with eggs, fish and a fuck load of cheese. When the 24th hour rolled around all bets were off. I shoveled food into my mouth like I was a freight train running on coal. No breaded food in a five mile radius was safe. At the end of that hour I couldn't move. I had to be rolled to the couch were a long session of lethargic TV watching was in order.

The diet continued into the beginning of the school year. My lunches, which I had always packed and taken from home, were reduced to blocks of cheese and hard boiled eggs. I reserved my carb hour for dinner when I would eat an entire box of pasta followed by a gallon of ice cream with a bottle of diet coke to wash it down. My cholesterol level slowly creeped higher and shockingly (and inexplicably) my waistband slowly got smaller.

Now I don't know a lot about nutritional science or how normal, adjusted people eat-however I do know a lot about crash diets and calorie content. I'm pretty sure that both streams of thought say the same thing about this poor excuse for a weightloss system, that it's bat shit crazy and unbelievably unhealthy. That didn't really bother me though; I got carbs, I got cheese and I got skinnier. I was a happy camper.

That is, until the heart attack.