Why We Are Fat

Theories. I got a million of 'em. I think I mostly listen to NPR so I can hear "experts" talk about things that prove my theories. Then I can say, "See! See! I told you so!"
Not that there's usually anyone around to say this to. But in my head, I'm telling everyone.
And since I've got nothing going on here except for more of the same, I think I'll present you with one of my theories.
Lucky you.

This theory is about why we are fat. It goes like this:
Back in the olden, olden days (and right now in other parts of the world) humans had to spend every waking hour doing something that would result in getting enough calories into their bodies to support basic life. We all know this is true. First, you had to go out and find the food and if that food had four legs and hooves, or swam in the water, you had to chase after it or build an elaborate trap and also, you had to find the flint to make the pointy things on the end of the sticks you used to kill the beast with and that took a lot of work. And you had to attach the pointy thing and after you killed the beast you had to drag it back to camp and then roast it and golly- think about what it takes to build a fire from complete scratch. No charcoals, no charcoal lighter fluid, no matches or lighters or anything like that. Just spark with flint and rock. Have you ever tried to make a fire without matches? It is not easy.
So, hunt, chase, build, make, drag, butcher, build fire, roast.
And when that beast got eaten, you were hungry and by golly, you better eat all you can and store what you don't need that very instant as fat to get you through the next few days or weeks or months when no beasts were killed. The better your ability to store fat, the more likely you were to remain alive when there was draught or when the game mysteriously disappeared. The fatter you could get, the better off you'd be.

Or berries. Have you ever picked berries? It is hard, hot, thirsty work. I just take a water bottle but early humans had to make something to tote water in, not just to take with them to pick berries but for all their water needs. Have you ever made a pot? I haven't. But I am sure it involves digging up a lot of clay and then firing it when you have it made and there you go with the fire again. Haul water, chop wood, make fire, dig clay, and so forth.
Then pick the berries. And again, no freezer to keep the berries in and you better eat 'em when you have 'em. Store the fat for lean times. I suppose they could dry meat and berries. Sure. But that was probably a lot of work too.
And so forth.
Whatever food came your way, you had to work hard to get it, to carry it, to prepare it and to store it.

But not any more, or at least not here in the US. All I do is get in my air conditioned car where I don't even have to roll the windows down with a crank but only have to push a little button with my little finger to make it go up or down and then drive to town to Publix where they have every sort of food available. Not just things our ancestors would recognize as food but things that have all sorts of calories and nutrients mashed up together and processed so that two bites is equivalent to an entire meal.

And do we stop at two bites? Oh, hell no.

Fat and sugar, which we as humans crave because the more we could get in our bodies back in caveman days, the longer we might live, are so infinitely combined and flavored that there is no end to the things our bodies tell us we need. Ice cream? Oh yes. Doughnuts and pastries and cakes and pies? Pass the fat and sugar.

And protein- the meat section goes on forever. Beans are available in bags and in cans both.

We have an infinite variety of fruit year round, shipped in from everywhere in the world and all we have to do is try to figure out what it is our little hearts desire. Cantaloupes? Strawberries? Apples? Mangoes? Whatever!

We take our vegetables (again available year-round) and pour lovely fat and sugar sauces over them (what else is salad dressing? what else is cheese sauce?) to make them even yummier.

We do our gathering by leisurely walking up and down the aisles of the store, leaning on our grocery cart and putting convenient packages in them and then taking them out to put on the conveyor belt to pay for them. And then some nice young person loads the foods into bags and takes them out to the car for us and I don't know about you but personally, I bitch to myself about having to take the food into the house and put it away.

Oh yeah. Hard work.

So we basically don't have to do anything to get food into our houses and then when it's time to cook it, we just turn our stoves on and there you go- FIRE! Yippie!

And on the flip side of that coin of trying to get as much food into our bodies as possible because that's what our bodies were designed to want, we don't have to use our bodies at all to acquire this bounty so we're already eating more than we need but our bodies were no doubt built to rest whenever it was possible to conserve the energy of the food we were able to get. Look at those "primitive" tribes. They spend a lot of time just hanging out and resting. But when they're not doing that, they're down at the river beating things on rocks or out in the woods tracking birds and beasts or doing something strenuous to make or build the things they need in their daily lives. They have to know and find and dig or pick the herbs they use for medicinal and recreational purposes and they have to know and find and dig or pick the vegetables they eat unless they cultivate them, which is another very strenuous activity. The women carry their babies on their hips or in slings when they do these tasks which is another added calorie deficit activity. And of course the women breastfeed because they have no other option. Breastfeeding takes a LOT of extra calories which means even more work.
So of course when they have a moment to rest, they want to and do. They have to in order to survive.

But do we?

Nah. We come in from our mentally exhausting days of work and all we want to do is plop down on the sofa and maybe order in a pizza. Or go nuke a frozen dinner.
It's natural that we feel that we need to rest our bodies because our minds are exhausted.
And yet, our bodies are not just meant to rest when they can, but also to work very, very hard. Our bones need this sort of work to stay strong. Our hearts and lungs and every part of us do, too. Our legs and feet are constructed to run for miles if need be. Barefooted.
But we don't use them this way. Even the most physical of us only exercise for an hour or so a day instead of the eight hours (at least) a day of our ancestors or our cousins in undeveloped countries.

And I'm not saying I want to go back there. I do not and can not do work like that. I want to eat dressing on my salad. I want chocolate and I don't want to have to go to the Amazon to get it. I don't want to grow my grain and grind it in order to make bread. Hell, I feel like a REAL woman if I go out and pick a few vegetables and come in and chop 'em up and cook them on the stove.

But I am aware of how easy I have it and I am aware that there is something just completely right about eating what I've grown and what Mr. Moon has hunted or fished and I am MORE than aware of the many, many benefits of moving my body, whether it is on a hard walk or in my garden or yard, pulling vines out of trees or weeds out of dirt or cutting branches and hauling them or sitting in yoga and stretching to the limit of my ability and then going a little bit further.
Exercise, real exercise that makes me sweat and grow weary helps my mind be more at rest. My anxious, silly rat-race mind grows more peaceful and less anxious when I work my body. I feel I am part of my community when I get out and walk in it and observe everything from rabbits by the trail to the guys hanging out in front of the post office or the lady who tends her yard so assiduously whom I stop to chat with now and then. It's good for me to get outside and do what my body was constructed to do on so many levels that there is no excuse in this world good enough not to do it while I am physically able.

And that's my theory on why we are fat. We have caveman bodies in a high-tech world where foods of all sorts are overabundant. And I try to pay attention to that and eat foods that are as close to their original form as I can (beans and rice for dinner tonight?) and be as involved as I can with growing or raising as much of my food as I can. I try to use my body every day in a strenuous manner. I try and yet, it is still so easy to fall back into bad habits and gain a few pounds here and there which I can feel and which I do not like. Not because I don't look like a fashion model but because I know even a few extra pounds prevents me from feeling as good as I can feel at my age. And I don't need to store fat in mass quantities. Even in these uncertain times, I am fairly sure I am not going to be faced with starvation in which case, fat would be stored fuel and a good thing. But my body doesn't know that. It still thinks that storing fat for short amounts of time is good. It wants me to do that. And it wants yours to do it too.

I was telling a friend about how soothing I find it is to watch the chickens and isn't that part of my DNA, too? To have chickens was a good thing. They are such nice providers of protein AND they are beautiful. And funny. To a woman back in the days when grocery stores were not on every corner, a yard full of chickens was like money in the bank.

Maybe I should get a pig. I do love the pork. And if I raised it myself on good feed and if I let it ramble around a little and eat acorns and dig up things that pigs like to snuffle and gnosh on, it would be a healthier type of pork for sure.
But I tell you- I have raised a pig before and say what you will about Babe, pigs are not tiny, cute, smart creatures. They become huge- like cow-huge- and they smell and they shit in their water. So maybe I don't really want a pig.
And maybe I shouldn't be eating pork.

Ah well. I suppose the occasional bacon and tomato sandwich isn't going to kill me. Especially if the tomatoes come from my garden, my labor.

It's all a balance, isn't it? And how lucky we are to have the knowledge and the opportunity to try and find it.

So I've walked and yoga'd today and now it's time to eat some lunch. Stir-fried squash and carrots and onions with a little brown rice and edamame beans? Maybe. And you know, I'll feel all virtuous and shit but I know in my heart that if I had been born in Nigeria instead of the USA, I would have to grow and cultivate and haul and pound cassava in order to survive and to ensure that my family did as well. Activity like that precludes the need to go to the gym to get arms like Michelle Obama's.
But I don't. And so I need to artificially substitute activity and diet choices that my body was designed to need.
And again, so do you, most likely. If you are as lucky as I am you do.

That's my theory. And I'm sticking to it.

More theories to come, I'm sure. Like I said, I've got a million of 'em.