Harvey Diamond - Eat for Life

The information contained in this book is based upon the research and personal and professional experiences of the author. It is not intended as a substitute for consulting with your physician or other healthcare provider. Any attempt to diagnose and treat an illness should be done under the direction of a healthcare professional.

The publisher does not advocate the use of any particular healthcare protocol but believes the information in this book should be available to the public. The publisher and author are not responsible for any adverse effects or consequences resulting from the use of the suggestions, preparations, or procedures discussed in this book. Should the reader have any questions concerning the appropriateness of any procedures or preparation mentioned, the author and the publisher strongly suggest consulting a professional healthcare advisor.

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ISBN: 978-1-59120-305-6

Copyright 2011 by Harvey Diamond

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Editor: Carol A. Rosenberg
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Printed in the United States of America

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H I, MY NAME IS HARVEY, AND OH BABY, do I love to eat. For as long as I can remember, sitting down to, or should I say diving into, some scrumptious meal of delectable food has always been right up there at the top of my favorite things to do list. Lots of people are ruled by their egos (or so Ive heard). But me? Im ruled by my taste buds. Being so enamored with food and its taste turns out to be a double-edged sword. On the one hand, food, in all of its glorious, lip-smacking diversity, has been an always-reliable source of pleasure and gratification. But then theres the flip side of all the gustatory indulgences: if one is not careful, that same source of so much pleasure can also be the source of pain, obesity, ill health, and even death.

I have wrestled with my weight for most of my adult life. Oddly, I was a really skinny kid. So much so, that other kids at school, and even my own brothers, made fun of me. Strangers tried to give me food! Im serious. Until I was about eleven years old I grew up in a little coal-mining town called Harlan, Kentucky. Think of the fictional town of Mayberry as depicted on The Andy Griffith Show and you know what Harlan was like. In fact, that show could easily have been filmed in Harlan. Harlan was about as homey and laid back as any place youve ever seen. Everybody knew everybody else and friendliness was a way of life. You could knock on any door anywhere in town and ask for some water because you were thirsty, some food because you were hungry, or even to use the bathroom, and you were invited in and treated like a long-lost cousin. I loved growing up there and have only the fondest memories of the place.

Harlanites would see me walking home from school and call me over and, after making some crack about my weightlike if I didnt put some rocks in my pocket a good wind was going to blow me awaythey would ask, Darlin, would you like a piece of cake? Now what kid is going to turn down a piece a cake? But no matter how much I ate, I remained skin and bones.

Even as a teenager, I never thought I would be fat. I had what I refer to as the arrogance of the skinny. You know the types: eat as much of anything they like and never gain an ounce. Go to the beach and whip off their shirts with plenty of fanfare while looking around with pride to see if any of the ladies are watching. Not until I was in my late teens and early twenties did it start to become apparent to me that the party was over. It was a real shocker the first time I was forced to say to myself, Hey, whats going on here? Im getting chubby! I actually went from someone who could completely throw caution to the wind and stuff myself with anything I pleased without gaining so much as a nanogram, to someone who put on weight by reading Gourmet magazine.

I spent four years in the military with my weight fluctuating up and down the entire time. My last year was in vietnam where it could be 120 degrees for long stretches. Not only was the food not anything to write home about, but frequently the meals were C rations. If you like to eat, you dont want to know what C rations are. Heres a hint: they were left over from World War II! Between the stifling heat, the less than appetizing regular food, and the insufferable C rations, lets just say it was not a challenge to refrain from overeating. When I returned home in January 1967, I was 145 pounds. And that was the last time I was ever anywhere near that weight. My mom took one look at me, all emaciated and gaunt, and nearly fainted as she put her hands to her face and exclaimed, oh my God! Her Jewish-mother thing kicked in and she started feeding me as if I were being fattened up for slaughter. I continued eating with wild abandon, and, well...

The next three and a half years were filled with anguishing over food, obsessing over my weight, andone of my least favorite things to do in lifedieting. Lord, I hated to diet. But what else could I do if I didnt want to wind up blocking out the sun for my neighbors and having to grease my thighs to pass through a doorway? And I tried every whacked-out diet that appeared on the scene. Try eating celery and cottage cheese for thirty days straight and see how amiable you remain. Yes, I did do that one. Lost a lot of weight, too, but whoa, lets just say it was not fun. I always dieted for thirty daysdont know why exactly. Its just the number of days I convinced myself I had to do for it to be worthwhile. And I would lose weight.

For two days before I knew I would be going on a diet, I would stuff myself till food was oozing out of my ears,making the first few days of the diet practically unbearable. Then I spent the remainder of the ordeal fantasizing over what foods I would ultimately gorge myself on when the agony of not being able to eat what I wanted was over.

Needless to say, I would always make all of these proclamations about how I was going to eat more healthfully and rationally after the diet was over, so I could maintain my weight loss and not have to diet anymore. Yeah, right. That lasted about a day and a halfmaybe. After I fought mightily, and struggled and suffered to lose twenty-five or thirty pounds, which I always did, I wound up putting all the weight back on and then some. Back to square one, until I became so disgusted with myself that I went on the next diet that came along. No way to live.

There are certain things in life that are self-evident. The sun is hot, and its moist in the tropicsboth self-evident; you dont need written proof. Politicians dont always tell the truthagain, self-evident. And there is something else that is patently self-evident: diets dont work! They are temporary measures that have failure built right into them. They are designed to fail. Because as soon as the diet is over and the old eating habits that brought on the need to diet in the first place return, all the weight comes back. Doing this over and over makes it harder and harder to lose the weight the next time. So in the long term, constant dieting will actually wind up making you heavier. Hows that for irony?