NO MORE COMMUTING

It’s fun now to listen to the morning traffic reports on KQED. Sitting with a cup of coffee and looking out over a forested canyon, I hear reports of backups from the Oakland–San Francisco Bay Bridge stretching miles to the Maze (the mass of intertwined highways in the middle of Oakland). Commuters to San Francisco from the East Bay are no doubt creeping along, looking nervously at the clock, and wondering if they can possibly get to work on time.

Though I switched from honest work to freelance writing and editing years ago, there was a time when I had to join other commuters in the daily rush hours. The only pleasant commute I ever found was that on the Alameda/Oakland ferry, a ride across San Francisco Bay taking about half an hour—long enough to read a newspaper and drink a cup of coffee. (At night, I could unwind with a glass of wine instead. Even better.) That continued only during a short writing job, though.

The worst commute of my life was through Chicago. Somehow I had gotten into the predicament of living in Park Forest, a suburb about 50 miles south of the city, and working in Skokie, one of the northwest suburbs. The drive first took me up the Dan Ryan Expressway, perhaps the most horrendous expressway in the country. About a dozen lanes wide, passing through some of the ugliest parts of Chicago. In summer the heat was stifling, in winter snow and ice were constant problems. Leaving the Dan Ryan, I got on Lake Shore Drive (fondly known as LSD to locals) and moved on toward the northern suburbs. The view of Lake Michigan from LSD was enjoyable, but that didn’t last very long. The entire wretched drive took about two hours in each direction. Traveling by train and bus instead would have meant waiting on train platforms and street corners in all kinds of weather. (Just before we finally moved to California, my fingers were frostbitten while I waited for a bus that never came.)

So, today I can settle back in comfort and listen to those traffic reports. A fender-bender on the Nimitz Freeway, a spill of a mysterious white substance on Route 280, a major pileup on the Bay Bridge. Retirement—it’s marvelous!

DIARY OF A FAT KID

As a toddler I was chubby but cute. It wasn’t until about the third grade that I gained a lot of weight and became genuinely fat. For years afterward other kids teased me or ignored me, causing a lot of misery. Though never obese by the standards of today, I was never slim enough to look good or to be athletic. In college—one of the happiest times of my life—I slimmed down a little and started dating, even meeting the young man who would become my first husband. When we became engaged I deliberately bought a wedding dress that was too small, and managed to fit into it for the wedding.

For the next few years, I remained at a normal weight by dieting much too much, risking my health. Occasionally it was too much for me, though. I can remember some low points like the time I stood in front of the fridge eating an irresistible piece of chocolate cake, with tears of frustration running down my face. As time passed, and I worked long days in an editorial office without getting enough exercise or knowing how to diet, my weight crept up. And then, a brand new weight-control program called Weight Watchers appeared. I decided to give it a try.

The original Weight Watchers program was draconian: Foods were either “legal” or “illegal.” Illegal foods like candy, pie, and ice cream were forbidden completely. Legal foods were permitted only in very definite amounts: for example, every dinner was to include four to six ounces of meat (usually chicken or fish): three servings of fruit and two cups of skim milk were allowed each day; and we could have only two slices of bread a day. Only vegetables could be eaten profusely.

Remembering the rules was fairly easy; following them was harder. However, after the first week or two on the program, for the first time in years I didn’t feel hungry. In fact, the foods were very satisfying. For me, avoiding illegal foods entirely turned out to be easier than eating small amounts of them.

Eventually I lost about 20 pounds by following the Weight Watchers program. Like many of their alumni, I gained some weight back in later years, especially when I went through menopause. However, I had learned to eat sensibly, and never returned to dangerous dieting. Today my weight is 118 pounds—40 pounds less than it was in my teens. Thank you, Jean Nidetch!

Some Weight Watchers lessons were permanent:

·      Choosing the right foods is more important than counting calories.

·      Some foods are very hazardous for anyone not wanting to gain weight.

·      Planning and self-discipline make it possible to eat properly, even when you are surrounded by tempting foods.

·      Measuring foods is important; it’s too easy to misjudge the size of a “serving.”

·      Nonfattening foods can be delicious!

·      Avoid restaurants when possible.

In the years since, I have learned additional weight loss secrets from other sources, such as magazine articles and books; perhaps most important, exercise has become a major part of my life. Though unathletic, I have become an enthusiastic walker, even hiking mountain trails as well as rambling along city streets.

Getting fat as a child was unnecessary. I was basically healthy, simply a rather lazy and bookish kid. If someone had coached me in choosing the right foods and getting enough exercise—in adopting the life style I have today—I would have stayed at a normal weight and established permanent healthy habits.

I can’t undo my own early struggles with weight control, but I have tried to help today’s children, who may need more help with resisting environmental influences than I did. Today kids are continually bombarded with advertising for giant burgers, may have less opportunities for walking and bicycling, and spend much time in front of computer screens. (I grew up when TV was rare, when fast food was a new idea, and long before the computer age.) In spite of that, they can learn the variety of strategies I have learned. In my workbook written for tweens, Take Charge, I provided a series of activities that can help children stay at a normal weight. While the workbook is an organized presentation, with space for keeping records, my overall free message is this: Yes, you live in an environment that often leads to weight gain, but you don’t have to be controlled by it. You can take charge of the situation!

For me, staying at a normal weight has become the natural outcome of a healthy life style. I eat lots of protein (my companion is a vegetarian, so I eat meat or fish only about once a week), vegetables and fruit, and milk. Every day I walk or get other exercise for about 45 minutes. None of this is difficult. Though eating simply can get a little boring, being at the right weight is a great motivator, which should appeal to children as much as it does to me.