Why Americans are fat and broke


I was thinking of just posting this image with the title and leaving it at that, but I felt some analysis was in order.

Around two thirds of American citizens are overweight. About half of those people are obese. And we’re on track for those numbers to continue to trend dramatically upward.

I have nothing against overweight people. I used to be an overweight person myself, albeit only slightly so. I will say that I’m much happier not to be overweight anymore, and that’s primarily owing to how I feel, although looking better has been a fringe benefit of losing weight.

I do have something against people who throw garbage out the car window onto my street, however. Like this receipt. I picked it up and, well, how could I not play amateur anthropologist?

So here, with caveats*, I present an analysis of this McDonald’s receipt and why I believe it is emblematic of why our country is facing such enormous health and financial crises.

Exhibit A: This food was purchased at around 10PM at night on a Wednesday. Was it dinner? If so, wow, talk about a meal completely devoid of nutritional value. Can you say Type 2 Diabetes?

Exhibit B: If this was merely a late night snack, then how many calories were in that snack? I’ll tell you how many:

Cinnamon Melts: 480
Medium French Fries: 380
Large Vanilla Shake: 1,110
Total calories: 1,960

Let’s assume this was a guy of average height and weight (which today means overweight). We’ll peg him at 5’10” and 200 pounds (BMI of 29, right in the middle of the overweight range). He gets no regular exercise (remember: he’s average).

His caloric needs for the day therefore are somewhere in the range of 2,250. And let’s assume that he’s alone and wasn’t sharing this with his significant other or a child. Our littering friend has just consumed over 87% of his daily required calorie intake in those three food items. That leaves room for a piece of fruit and handful of nuts. I wonder if that’s all he ate for the rest of the day. Probably not.

He’s also just consumed 80%, 42% and 39% of his recommended daily maximums for saturated fat, cholesterol and sodium, respectively. Ouch.

Exhibit C: I’ll admit that not only do I rarely eat out, I pretty much never buy fast food. Maybe once every few years, and only under duress when there are no other available options. Even then, I go for the plain chicken breast.

So, I’m totally out of touch with what garbage food costs today. But seven dollars? That seems an unconscionable amount to charge someone for three fast food items.

Exhibit D: MasterCard. It’s everywhere you want to be. Even if that’s McDonald’s on Tuckahoe Road at 10 o’clock at night on a Wednesday. Maybe our guy pays off his credit card bill every month. But, again, he’s average. Meaning that there’s a good chance that he’s among the 60% of Americans who carry a revolving balance, the median of which is $2,200.

That’s a lot of boxes of cinnamon melts. 1,078, to be exact.

*I know nothing about the purchasor of these food items. But I’m a pessimist, and I believe in statistics. So I’m going to assume the worst.

"What do you think about on those long runs?"

This was a question a colleague asked me a few months ago. I’d let her know that I’d be in late because I had to run 20 miles on a weekday morning. Like most non-runners, she found this unfathomable. After asking how long it took me, she asked what no one ever has: “What do you think about on those long runs?”

She does a lot of yoga and meditation, so was curious to know if I meditated. That was a tough one to answer. I think I replied that if by meditating she meant “being in the present and clearing one’s mind” that in fact running a race was more meditative than running a training run was.

I did a 20 miler yesterday morning. As I ran along, I kept track of some of the things I thought about. Here they are, unexpurgated, unadulterated and uncensored.

(Maybe some runners out there think deep thoughts. As you can see, I’m not one of them.)

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Warmer today. I wonder if that bottle I hid up by Hartsdale station is still frozen.

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Snippet of a song by Spoon: “Finer Feelings”

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“It is to laugh.” Who said that? Shakespeare? Or Bugs Bunny? Bugs Bunny quoting Shakespeare, maybe.

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Snippet of a Marshall Crenshaw song: “The Distance Between”

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Pothole. Go left.

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Gloves. They’re in a stump up ahead. Where’s the stump? There’s the stump.

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Snippet of a song by The Beautiful Girls: “I Thought About You”

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These signs for the crosswalk lights are all screwed up. The one that says “To cross Harney Road” is pointing toward the parkway. And vice versa. I wonder how many people push the wrong button every day, and stand here for five minutes like a douchebag.

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What is that? It’s a ball. A Sesame Street ball. Is that Grover or the Cookie Monster? Cookie Monster. No, wait. Too skinny. Grover.

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I’ll stop now. Imagine this, though. For three hours.

Hugs for Huckabee

Props and a big shoutout to my homies in Alameda, California rapping for Huckabee. Somebody’s gotta give that man some attention in that state.

Okay, it’s my darling (and highly enlightened) niece and nephew.

This is your brain. This is your brain on home video. Any questions?

Talk about negative splits!

Apparently Haile Gebrselassie wasn’t the only one performing miracles at the Berlin Marathon. Mexican politician Roberto Madrazo also set an amazing PR — and defied the laws of physics too. All while wearing a clown suit — I mean, a red track suit top and black sweatpants.

Madrazo finished in 2:40:57, taking first in the Male 55 age group. But did he actually run the race as he claimed, or did he take a convenient shortcut between chip timing mats instead, as some have charged? Let’s do the math, shall we?

According to the timing mats, Madrazo hit the 20 kilometer mark in 1:42:42. That puts his first 12.5 or so miles at an 8:15 pace. Not bad for a failed politician of dubious scruples. But in order to make his finishing time of 2:40 and change, he would have had to have sped up quite a bit — to the tune of an average pace of 4:13 per mile.

Gebrselassie — now being called the fastest marathoner in the world — set his world record running an average pace of 4:45. Yet Madrazo, with his seemingly super-human ability to maintain a dramatically faster pace (and after already running over 12 miles, no less), can obviously run much faster than the slow Ethiopian, despite being 20 years his senior. It seems that Mr. Madrazo just needs to believe in himself and run a more aggressive first half to realize his full potential.

Madrazo might also consider broadening his competitive horizons. With his speed and endurance, he should be on track to easily shatter the current half marathon world record time of 58:33. Go, Roberto, Go!

Race Report: The Five Stages of Race Day D.E.A.T.H.

With a tip of the hat to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, I present to you the five stages of Race Day D.E.A.T.H. I experienced all of these stages, over a period of four hours, 17 minutes and 45 seconds on Sunday while running the 19th Annual Key Bank Vermont City Marathon.

D = Denial. “I’m just a little off my pace because of that last hill. That pain will go away.”

E = Exasperation. “Why can’t I make my legs go faster?! What on earth did I eat that’s making me feel this bad?”

A = Agony. “…potty. Ow. Ow. Ow. Where’s the porta potty? Ow. Ow. Ow. Where’s the…”

T = Tedium. “I’m jog-walking at mile 19. I wonder if there will be anyone at the finish line when I get there later this afternoon. Oh, look. It’s a downpour. Now I can walk seven miles in wet socks.”

H = Humiliation. “That fat woman up ahead is going to beat me.”

I suppose it could have been much worse. I was off my last marathon time by about 22 minutes, or about 50 seconds per mile. But it was just shocking how badly things started to go wrong starting at about mile 12. I’d kept to my 8:55 pace all the way, even though my stomach was bothering me.

But my legs started to really hurt at mile 12 (something that didn’t happen until mile 19 or so in the last marathon), and my pace began to drop off slightly over the next 6 miles, but I was struggling. Mile 19 was the the turning point, where I lost it physically and mentally. I also got the runner’s trots, which involved a stop of several minutes and feeling quite weak for the subsequent mile.

Like the last race, my thighs were in excruciating pain. But unlike the last race, I couldn’t keep running at a quick clip despite the pain. I just couldn’t make them go faster, and by mile 20 my pace dropped to 10:45. That was also when it began to pour rain, a downpour which lasted close to 20 minutes. By mile 22 I was walking/jogging at a pace of 12:52, looking and feeling like a drowned rat.

I rallied a bit (that’s being charitable) and managed to run miles 23-25 at well under 12 minute miles. But that was mostly because I just wanted to get the damned thing over with and get some food in me. The last 1.2 mile stretch was a cruel joke. My pace was around 13:30 and I began to suspect that they’d moved the finish line to Canada. I kept running by people screaming, “you’re almost there! Just around the corner!” but no finish line. When I finally crossed it, I was so disoriented (and relieved) that I forgot to turn off my watch, so didn’t get my time until last night.

Jonathan didn’t fare much better, having blown his goal time and suffered the same decay in performance as I did. The lessons I take from this experience are:

1. You can’t “coast” on the training for a marathon earlier in the season. I simply didn’t run enough miles, or do enough quality workouts, over the preceding two months (much of it due to recovering from a marathon and then a half marathon — and much of it just not having the time due to work commitments). I had enough conditioning to run a very strong half marathon in late April, and that was part of what was so dispiriting about Sunday’s race. My April half indicated a good marathon time (predicting 3 minutes faster than my March marathon time) — but you can’t “fake” a marathon. I’ll learn to trust my training history more than a time predictor next time.

2. A hard marathon in March, followed by a hard half in April, followed by another hard marathon in May is too much. If I do this again, I have to make one race the hard race and other two “fun” races, or “training runs with food at the finish.” 🙂

3. Don’t eat kung pao beef the night before a marathon. Too much fat, protein and fibre.

On the positive side, I was never really in serious trouble. I passed one runner being hauled away in an ambulance at mile 18 (he seemed lucid; I’ve a feeling it was a bad injury). And I saw another collapse at mile 25 — passed out cold. So I’m grateful that nothing like that happened to either of us.

And the people of South Burlington were kind, generous and full of good humor and encouragement. It boosted my spirits to run through neighborhoods where everyone came out — and stood in the pouring rain! — handing out bananas and orange slices and cheering us on. I even started high-fiving kids once I decided to accept my failure and try to enjoy other aspects of the experience.

Running along Lake Champlain was also quite an experience. Very beautiful, even in the pouring rain.

It’s a race I’d run again. Although since the More Marathon seems to be my big spring race goal for 2008, I might do the Vermont marathon as a fun run next time. They also give you a nice tee shirt, for the record. Simple design and technical fabric, so you can actually use it for running. And they have the heaviest race medal I’ve ever seen. It must be made of lead.

So that’s it for the spring marathons of 2007. I’ll focus on a full recovery from this one and then start building a base of 55-60 miles per week over the summer. I’ll probably run the inaugural East Hampton Marathon in September as a fun/training run, rather than race it.

The More 2008 race is 10 months away. Plenty of time prepare…

For the "Solution in search of a problem" file

It’s what every runner has been clamoring for: the Jogging Buddy.

Work is still insane. Plus there’s the nice weather beckoning me to get away from the computer. Will catch up with some more posts soon…

A runner’s fortune

Fortune cookie fortune found on my run this morning:

“Everything is perfect in the universe — even your desire to improve it.”

You find the oddest things when you go out running.

Other things I’ve found while running:

– GU gel (Vanilla)
– Swimming pool pass
– earphone “sock”
– ATM receipt
– $10 bill (unrelated to ATM receipt)

Yet another reason not to live in Florida

Note to self: Don’t go running in a Florida swamp.

This week’s inspiration: A hamster named Mike

Sure, long distance running is an endurance sport, but have you ever considered what a hamster in a recycling plant has to go through? This story about a hardy hamster named Mike makes running 26.2 miles look like a cake walk.

Old guys rule!

Check out this guy. 95 years old and running marathons. I want to be him in 50 years. But I might have to trade wine and beer for ginger curry. I’m hoping the turban is optional.

Someone should tell him about this site. Too bad they don’t sell tech tees.