On one of the on-line discussion boards I occasionally read, there is an ongoing argument about this statement:
100 extra calories a day will cause you to gain 10 pounds in a year.
I'm not really sure where the controversy is. Assuming a pound is 3500 calories, that works out about right. Of course, you have to assume no change in activity level or metabolism; and when you do that, what the statement really says is that if you start eating more but don't start burning more, you'll store it as fat.
Not exactly radial; but these people are a little wacky. (You've read that statistic that says 40% of the public believes they'll be in the wealthiest 1% when they retire? Well, they all hang out here. It can be interesting, but it can also test one's faith in human nature.)
I used an on-line calculator last week to discover that Em should be getting about 1300 calories a day. Hah! As she would say, "That's funny." She doesn't get anything close to that. (I'm even counting the Cookie Crisp cereal they serve for breakfast at day care. No kidding. She loves it; I figure it's better than the waffles with maple syrup they serve other days. You have to pick your battles when you have a day care you like.) And yet she's energetic and bright-eyed and muscular and grows about an inch a week, or so it seems. I think she just does food in fits and starts - doesn't eat for a week or so, then stuffs herself round the clock for a couple of days. Whatever the reason, it works for her, and I'm not inclined to worry (unless I'm fighting a case of free-floating anxiety, which does whack me from time to time).
Another skinny critter is Sabella. She's on Prednisone, which is supposed to be an appetite stimulant. She's also on Pepcid, since cats with kidney failure often have stomach ulcers as well. She doesn't eat much. She shows interest in food, but when push comes to shove not a lot of it goes in. I don't know if it's the illness, the medications (she's also on Benazepril, Clavimox, and aluminum hydroxide), or the fact that one of her canines is loose and probably painful. However you slice it, though, she's dropping weight rapidly, and she didn't have much to lose. She still purrs sometimes, and is usually under the covers with me by morning, so I don't think it's time to let go yet. But there isn't much to her anymore, and it's heartbreaking.
Me, I can't stop eating. If there is no junk food in the house (we've been working on that one), I'll have extra servings of Em's rainbow Goldfish. (~150 calories in 2/3 of a cup. A pound and a half a month if I have one extra cupful.) I lose a little, start feeling good, and then drop my guard; and the next thing you know I'm ordering coconut candy on-line. Even my four-days-a-week exercise (7 weeks so far, yay!) doesn't stop me. I will say, though, that I feel SO MUCH BETTER when I exercise regularly. I may not be losing weight right now, but I don't feel like crap all the time, and that's a big deal.
So why do I eat? Stress is the classic answer. I do turn to food for comfort. And for boredom. Pretty much the only thing that makes me lose my appetite is rage, and I just don't get mad that often. (Bitterness and frustration don't do it, which is why I still snack like a bandit at work in spite of everything.)
It's a stupid excuse. Everyone in the world is stressed out and bored. Food is used as a celebration and a comfort in all kinds of cultures. Why isn't wanting to stop enough?
Goodness, this is turning into a whine, and I don't really feel like whining. I feel like accepting myself as I am - because I have to start there. I have to start by liking myself right here, right now, or I won't be able to care for myself enough to make a change. And Em surely doesn't care what I look like.
At least right now she doesn't. Someday, when she's older and notices these things, I want her to be proud of me.