You know, it'd be kinda nice to be able to do some kind of food/nutritional reading on the web without hearing about that damned Atkins Diet all the time. It would really make my reading and research a bit easier, when sometimes all I want to know is the approximate calorie/nutrient breakdowns for some foods and instead I get 46,582 versions of

"I Lost 243 Pounds In Seven Minutes With The Atkins Diet!"

God. Shut up already before I deck all of you. (I've earned these new biceps. Don't taunt them. They hit back.)

In my research, my studying, and through the occasional posterior factual extraction, I have come up with a radical new idea, which I plan to patent and sell to the world:

"Burn more calories than you eat and you'll lose weight."

It's a radical notion, I know, but sometimes it's hard to see over the four-foot signs being erected in a meat department near you that announce that beef is good for you -- because it's low-carb. Every time I go into the meat department in any local grocery store, I keep hoping that there will be a pile of cluesticks hidden behind the low-carb signs, but so far, I've not been in luck. I may be forced to resort to pulling up the signs one by one and sharpening them with my teeth.

When you're in desperate need of a cluestick, just about anything pointy will do.

Remember this, ladies and gentlemen: disco was once king, tulips were once nearly priceless, and one of these years, people are going to wake up and remember that the Japanese are eating carbohydrates and, as a nation, are far healthier than Americans.

* * * * *

Judging by the mind-boggling sales of diet books in the U.S., I think it's safe to say that I'm one of approximately fifteen people in this country who are terrified by the concept of a "diet." But the concept of a 'diet' is terribly attractive, isn't it? (Admit it. It's okay. I won't tell.) It's far easier to check your brain at the door, follow The Rules, eat the foods pronounced 'good,' and just watch as all that weight (which, we must point out, did not magically paste itself onto our asses overnight) magically floats away in a month or less.

It's easier to follow the quick fix of a book than it is to look inward, re-examine your life, and admit that you're eating too many calories and not getting enough exercise. Not because you're lazy, but because, in this country at least, trying to live and eat in a healthy manner takes serious, deadly effort.

The sad, painful truth is that I don't know anyone who went on a 'diet,' lost weight, and kept it off. The only people I know for whom weight loss stuck were ones who learned to eat a balanced, moderate diet - coupled with exercise to burn more calories than they ate.

I wish I could say that our drive for quick fixes boggles my mind, but that's not true. I know how powerful the desire to be attractive, to feel good, to be at our best, is, and I understand how easy it is for that desire to cloud reason and judgment and make us seek the quickest and easiest solutions to weight loss. After all, we want to look our best. Not now, not next year, but tomorrow. Next week. Before the big date, before the class reunion, before we have to put on a swimsuit and show our faces in public.

Before we have to look in the mirror again.

When I'm twenty minutes into a 45-minute cardiovascular workout, after my legs have limbered up but before the 'high' has kicked in, it's awfully easy to wonder why the hell I'm going about this in what seems to be the longest, hardest, most painful way possible. It's easy to ask the question, "Why am I sweating madly five, six days a week when I could just buy a diet book, follow the rules, and be done with it?"

My answer is the same every time: because I only want to do this process once. Every time I have to go out and buy a new pair of jeans or couple of shirts because none of my old ones fit properly any more, I want to feel confident when I take my old clothes to Goodwill that I will never have to buy anything in that larger size ever again. Over. Done. Finito.

I don't want to be chained to a book for the rest of my life. I want - for the first time in years, and what sometimes feels like for the first time ever in my life - to be able to make conscious, self-informed decisions about the food I put in my body. Not decisions based on a book, a 'diet,' not someone else's guide. Just the knowledge that with moderation and variety, all foods are acceptable, up to a reasonable calorie limit - while coupled with a lifetime exercise program.

I'm still scared on nearly a daily basis that I'm going to fail, but if I have it my way, this trip is going to be a one-way journey.