The Biggest

I must admit that when I watch shows like “Half Ton Mom” and “Half Ton Virgin”, I find myself conflicted.  As I am drawn to human spectacle and gritty medical programming, I have a hard time saying no to these vignettes of true suffering. Without fail, I always feel a bit queasy afterwards.

As someone who has struggled her whole life with her weight–and has been on both the losing and winning ends of the battle–I understand these people.  I can completely imagine getting that large; in my heart I believe I can put away 5,000 calories a day and I have done my damnedest to achieve this task at times.  I have an amazing ability to power through the uncomfortably obvious moments of overcosumption in order to stuff more food in my face. Food, to me, is one of life’s true joys.  Add to the mix my practice of using food as an emotional crutch and a coping mechanism and there I have it; a literal recipe for disaster lays at my feet.

But what I hate about these shows is how damn smug it makes me feel.  How can people let themselves go like this?  When these people  are making their own clothes because they cannot even be purchased in stores, why don’t they stop? When they have to quit their jobs because they can no longer move, why don’t they cry uncle? If they cannot enjoy their children, why don’t they make some changes? I watch these shows and I commend myself.  I feel proud I am not that big, that I righted my path, that I can still pass as average even when I am in the trenches with my weight.

I’ve never watched “The Biggest Loser” until this season and I don’t really know why I started. Boredom? Poor programming? A sick schadenfreude?   I watched last night as they tortured folks with food, waving candy in front of their faces.  They shamed folks with replications of the pre-Biggest Loser meals, mocking the calorie counts on the plates.  The trainers screamed in their faces in an attempt to break them down.  All the while, I really hated myself.  I hated myself for feeling such a kinship with these people, yet feeling oddly superior at the same time.  Watching it seems a particular exercise in self loathing I will no longer participate in.

Is life about being so fat you can’t move? Or so unhealthy you are one flight of stairs away from a heart attack? No, it most certainly is not.  But I know it isn’t shame and every last M&M standing as some kind of final nail in the collective coffin.  It really is about doing the best you can, every day.  Some days you’ll reach for the chocolate and it isn’t emeshed with a greater meaning…but most days, hopefully, mercifully, you can find the strength it just eat your greens and make the right choices.  The biggest part of life isn’t how much you can lose, it is what you have lost when every bite is a judgement.

Garlicky Kale

Splash olive oil

2 cloves minced garlic

Fed pepper flakes, to taste

6 cups kale, cleaned

Salt and pepper

Sprinkle parmsan

Heat oil in large pan over medium heat.  Add garlic and sautee for 2 minutes. Add red pepper flakes and stir several times.  Add kale, salt, and pepper.  Cook until wilted, about 6 minutes. Sprinkle with parmesan.