Ditch the diets: Eat as you please

By Michelle Murphy

Diets might just be the bane of my existence. I, like most college women, have tried them. I entered college a slim size two and, after gaining what seems like the freshman 500, will be leaving a solid size six. Though I have remained staunch in my adamant refusal to go to the gym, in moments of clarity littered over the past three years, I have been frightened by the fact that this may be the best I will ever look. Instead of miraculously shrinking without cause, my thighs will likely continue to expand.

The message of these moments has always been plain: diet time. I would turn to my roommate, declare that I could no longer bear to look at my obese legs and that Monday would mark the beginning of a new me. I would put aside my love for food, junk and gourmet alike, and embark on a journey to slimness. I would be supermodel-esque in my bathing suit. She'd give me a knowing grin for the umpteenth time that quarter and vow to be supportive. She is used to the routine.

I was catapulted into my first annual diet when I realized that my generally flat midsection had begun to make me look as though I was with child. Deciding that this was not a marketable trait for a single woman, I joined forces with a friend trying the new South Beach Diet. I was enticed by the diet's structure, its romantic claims to change the way you think about food, and mostly, its promise to help you drop ten pounds in the first two weeks.

According to the South Beach Diet's best selling book, written by Dr. Arthur Agatston, the diet is not low-fat or low-carb. Rather, it focuses on eating the right fats and the right carbs â€" six times a day. The prospect of eating this regularly compounded by the possibility of adding "the right" carbs slowly back into my diet after the initial two weeks was quite appealing. I flipped forward in the book of painstakingly outlined day-by-day recipes to see that chocolate covered strawberries were a looming dessert, and I was sold.

All I would have to do was follow the recipes, suffer through some snacks of reduced-fat Laughing Cow cheese and celery (my distaste for which I ignored momentarily) and I'd be on the fast track to a slim, sexy, South Beach body. I lasted three days. Once I realized that my daily bowls of pasta and any forms of alcohol did not constitute the "right carbs," I quit.

Some months later, momentarily forgetting my pasta obsession after examining the way my legs looked in a mini-skirt, another friend convinced me that the Atkins diet was the way to go. She informed me that with Atkins, I could eat basically as much of whatever I wanted, provided that it was not a pasta or bread product. Of course, she was incorrect, but I embarked on a week-long love affair with sausages, chicken, almonds and cheese.

My momentary bliss was shattered when I realized that I was following the myth of the Atkins diet, not the actual Atkins diet, and that in order to actually do it right, I could only consume 20 grams of carbs per day. The entire four days that I had been on the diet were useless because I had gone way over that limit simply with my consumption of almonds, avocado and condiments. My first celebratory quitting meal: a bottle of Bass Ale and some potato chips. How totally un-Atkins.

The overarching message extended beyond my lack of discipline. What struck me each time I began one of these diets, and continues to plague me now, is the fact that each of these diets runs completely counter to everything that we have been taught about nutrition.

In elementary school, I was essentially beaten over the head with the food pyramid, which demanded I consume 6 to 11 servings of carbohydrates, 3 to 5 servings of vegetables, 2 to 4 servings of fruit and 2 to 3 servings of dairy every day. At a young age I resented that pyramid, angered at the number of fruits and vegetables it required I consume, but more recently, I have grown to embrace it. It seems to make sense. It also provides me with a certifiable excuse to ignore Atkins and South Beach claims to be healthy diet forms.

While I may be dismayed that six beers do not fulfill the requirements of the carbohydrate sector of the food pyramid, I am perfectly satisfied with the fact that, in theory, a slice of green pepper and mushroom pizza (my favorite) dips into all four of its categories. I am also perfectly satisfied with being ten pounds over my ideal weight if it means actually enjoying eating.

Thus, as spring springs this year, instead of counting calories and braving strange diets, I vow to unabashedly lay my perfectly normal body out in the sun with a glass of sugary, carb-filled lemonade and a smile. Perhaps some of you will join me.

û Contact Michelle Murphy at (408) 554-4546 or mdmurphy@scu.edu.