mandarine

When I was a kid, my parents had a very hard time making me eat. I seem to be affected by a rare physiological indifference to hunger. It is by no means anorexia, as I always take great pleasure in food. Only I never feel a physiological urge to eat before I actually start eating. I do feel uneasiness in the stomach in the hours around meal time, but there is no unconscious drive to really eat something — quite unlike the sensation of thirst, which clearly tells me I must drink. Therefore I generally have to decide consciously that I should eat if I want the gurgling in my stomach to subside.

When I was a kid, I was so keen on whatever I was doing when it was in fact time to eat, that the conscious decision had to be enforced by my parents.

When appetite rules

However, once I got started eating, appetite kicked in, and as I grew up, it gradually took over. Around the time I got married, I became quite a cook, so that every meal became a temptation for greed. Whereas my childhood meals were often quite bland (pardon Maman), now was the time of elaborate veloutés, engineered sauces and delicate seasonings. Every other meal, I would eat until I was full. By the time I turned 30, there was no denying that my weight was diverging. Nothing worrying by anybody else’s standards, but I was too used to being slender to simply accept my new waistline.

The increase in riding mileage bought me some respite, but hardly. As appetite ruled my eating habits, I would often not stop until the reward of eating another bite was counterbalanced by the growing abdominal uneasiness of having eaten too much. Had I had a slightly different metabolism (and a more sedentary life), I would have reached a hundred kilos in no time.

Then two things happened this summer.

Fasting is not starving

I read a booklet about survival in an urban environment in times of crisis. The author had been a journalist and/or a relief volunteer and had often had to live for weeks in besieged cities all around the world. One of the first chapters was about dedramatizing fasting. It was quite a revelation to me. The main message was that one could fast for up to two weeks without feeling horribly hungry (after the first couple of days), that there were no damages to the body, and that many people actually felt better. Because I had been chased by my parents to always come eat at fixed hours, I think I had not even contemplated the possibility of not eating. To me, skipping a meal had always meant the beginning of starvation.

I put this to the test by fasting for two days (i.e. supposedly the worst period of a longer fasting deal). It confirmed what I had believed: I did not feel especially hungrier than on normal days, and providing that I drank enough, I felt no worse in the stomach than how I usually feel in the hour or two before lunch or dinner.

Fasting is however an essentially intermittent practice, as it is certainly not sustainable. Therefore I could not turn fasting into a routine. I could decide for two meals a day instead of three, but this was not socially convenient, though: at work, one of the moments I like best is re-inventing the world with colleagues at lunch. I could not possibly skip lunch on a regular basis. And I do need my breakfast and my dinner.

I don’t really want to eat that much

So I decided I’d try to eat less, with an objective of eating roughly 50% less than the usual quantity. And to my surprise, it was not the tantalizing ordeal I had believed it would be.

There came the second revelation: the frustration coming with the swallowing of the last mouthful of an excellent dish is completely independent from the number of preceding mouthfuls.

In fact, this is probably the very same mechanism as in the survival instinct theorem: just as I do not really want to live long but I never want to die now, I do not really want to eat more - I just always want the next mouthful.

And the corollary: I feel much better when I stop eating before I am full, because I get the same frustration of having to give up on the next mouthful, but without the additional discomfort of “feeling stuffed”.

Fewer obligations for a simpler life

These revelations came as I was sketching my overall design about how to live a simpler life, focusing on the core business of life, which is essentially living, and outsourcing the rest (debt slavery, wage slavery, consumerism, etc.). At that moment, it occurred to me that I had been giving way too much importance to eating habits: I had to have three meals a day, and unless I managed to prepare lunch and dinner with the traditional structure “starter, main course and dessert”, I felt this was no true meal. In the long run, this perspective was turning me into the daddy equivalent of what both my grandmothers had been: catering slaves. Fortunately, my spouse was doing half the work, and I did not have five kids, but it was the same spirit of inescapable culinary duty.

So I decided two things:

1. instead of eating as much as I could without getting too fat, I would eat as little as I could without getting too thin. I would essentially not modify what I was eating: I like meat, butter and cheese too much; but I would eat roughly half as much as I used to (except for breakfast, which I am currently trying to promote to a complete meal).
2. and I’d stop being so demanding and strict about eating habits. We do not need perfect meals all the time. If I have played too long with my son or we’ve been having tea with friends and now it’s too late to prepare a conventional dinner, there is no shame in drinking a bowl of soup and some oatmeal or a yogurt. In fact, I am now convinced it is OK to skip meals when we do not really feel like eating. Maybe just a salad or a herbal tea, to keep the bio-clock on the right tick.

A brief account after five months of testing

I thought I’d share some of this here, but first I had to make sure I was not going to screw up miserably. I only speak from hearsay, but I believe that diets often fail because of adverse surrounding social conventions. The only convention I am swimming against is quantity, and really this is no big deal.

At home, I can be a little stricter: I have shifted the proportions towards more vegetables and less meat and carbohydrates.

The net result after five months is absolutely stunning. Predictably, I have lost a few pounds, going back twelve years in time, then stabilized my weight (more than that would probably be unhealthy). But in addition, I have been feeling a lot better:

• In my body, I believe this change was necessary to get all the benefits from the cycling I do. I feel fitter without a doubt.
• On the health front, I think I have never been that well in a really long time. It has been the first winter I have not had so much as a common cold…so far (keeping fingers crossed); it proves nothing, but it feels good.
• And in my mind I feel freer. I feel as if I am not addicted to food anymore; as if I could do without. Obviously this is not true, but I know I can take a break from food any time a want; food has become a means instead of an end, and this really feels like freedom.

I just hope Food will be OK if we just stay friends

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