On the first of September 1993, I wrote the following in an email (slightly edited, mainly to correct the English):
I receive a weekly newsletter at work, written by a sort of computer consultant (he's actually a retired priest), focusing each week on a different subject. Sometimes it's not interesting, normally it's worth reading, and every now and then there's an issue which is really interesting. So it was a few weeks ago when he wrote about self-improvement, and in connection with that, he wrote about the psychologist Martin Seligman, who has written a couple of books, "Learned optimism" and "What you can change ... and what you can't " . I was very interested by what I read, and checked these books out at Amazon, which has 20 sample pages from each book. So impressed was I that I ordered "What you can change" there and then.
The book came a few days ago, and whilst it was more academic (or less populist) than I had expected, its message was still very strong, and in certain respects, surprising. One of the main thrusts of the book is that many of our behavioural patterns are genetic and cannot be changed; most of these traits derive from our prehistorical days, when the main goal of the human being was to survive and protect itself. But also there are patterns which can be changed, and it's important to recognise what can or cannot be changed, in order to concentrate one's efforts at self-improvement in an area which stands a chance of being improved. Thus he writes at great length about dieting, how the body settles at a certain weight, and how the actual process of dieting causes irreversible biochemical changes in the body with regard to fat metabolism, which causes people to put more weight on when they cease dieting.
That book was the first in a long series of purchases whose subject matter varied from psychology to neuroscience, with a great deal of interest in the brain. I've stopped buying such books, partially because it's difficult to find a book which is both interesting and well written, and partially because I am less interested in the subject now (or maybe I've read enough).
Anyway, something reminded me of the book and its chapter on dieting, so I pulled it from the shelf last night and read it again. Here are three concluding points:
- Weight is almost always regained after dieting
- Dieting has a number of destructive side effects including repeated failure and hopelessness, bulimia, depression and fatigue
- Losing and regaining weight itself presents a health risk comparable to the risk of [being] overweight
I'm not being fanatic about my diet and there's no way that I'm going to become bulimic nor depressed, neither about my current weight nor the possible failure to maintain a lower body weight.
I notice that in the past two days my weight has increased slightly, from 80.0 kg on Monday to 80.4 kg on Thursday. Again, it will be interesting to see what happens after next Sunday's acupuncture treatment. I only have three treatments left in this series; I may return for another series in January.
The fact that I am writing so much about my weight indicates that the subject is currently important to me; I would like to eat normally without having to calculate whether I can afford the calories. Actually, when I am at work, things are easier as I only have a very limited supply of food available and my mind is distracted with other matters (such as work, which is very much a cerebral activity in my case). It's harder when I'm at home - and as this is currently the holiday season, I worked three days this week and rested four days. Next week will be the same.
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