KISS Weight Loss – Intro + Habit #1

In the gym world, while the first week of January may be the busiest time of year, the start of September is a pretty close second.  Summer winds down, people come back to work, the school year boots up, and everyone generally seems to be ready to buckle down and make some change in their lives.

All too often, however, people set out on that road by making a bunch of big changes.  They completely revamp their diets.  They start working out five or six times a week.  And for a few weeks, it goes like gangbusters.  But by a month in, almost all of them have fallen off the wagon, reverting back to their original habits.  Because – as both the research and most people’s direct experience shows – large-scale, all-at-once change is extremely difficult to sustain.  And much like tooth-brushing, fitness habits really on help so long as you’re actively keeping them up.

But here’s the good new: there are a bunch of small changes that are surprisingly effective, and highly sustainable.  I’ve been researching a ton of them for Composite, and I’m going to start sharing them here, too: simple things you can do that make a disproportionately large impact on your fitness and health.

To encourage you to actually put these suggestions into use, I’ll be posting them one a month.  That gives you thirty days to actively focus on one behavior, baking it into unconscious and automatic habit by the time you start on the next one a month later.

Here we go.

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KISS Weight Loss Habit #1

This one’s as simple as it gets:

30 minutes before each meal, drink 16oz of water.

That’s it.

But according to a recent study in Obesity, just that single, stupidly easy intervention allowed subjects to lose an average of 10.5 pounds in 12 weeks.  (!!!)

I’ll skip over the science (which hinges on tricking your brain’s satiety sensing system), and stick with the simplicity theme.  A big glass of water, a half hour before you eat.  That’s it.  But that alone is enough to jump-start serious weight loss.  Try it for a month, and then check in again for the next one.

It’s Always Sunny

So here’s a fun fact about me: my skin is impervious to suntan lotion.  Well, not exactly impervious.  But when I put it on, five or ten minutes after it absorbs into my skin, about 25% of the suntan lotion reappears: a layer of white streaks and patches that needs to be rubbed in a second time.  It’s happened since I was a kid, and apparently it’s a genetic trait, as my mother has the exact same issue.  Still, it’s not something I think about frequently when I’m not at the beach, which is how today’s adventure unfolded.

As I’ve mentioned previously, these days I’m neck-deep in research for Composite, trying to compile the largest possible list of evidence-based health and fitness habits for our algorithm.  To that, with end-of-August vacation time upon us, I recently dove into some papers around sun exposure, trying to tease out the balance between skin cancer safety and the importance of vitamin D, along with a bunch of other similar questions.

Somewhere along the way, I found a study about the impact of suntan lotion use frequency.  Essentially, it tracked two groups: one who used suntan lotion every day, regardless of weather, and another who used suntan lotion only when they thought it was needed.  After a couple of years, the daily use group had dramatically fewer new wrinkles, brown spots, and fine lines than the as-needed suntan lotioners.

As I’m on the verge of 40, and old enough to start worrying about such things as wrinkling (and, based on some of my grandparents, I’m pretty sure I’m en route to full prune), the study struck a chord.  I decided switching to a daily moisturizer with some SPF protection in it would be cheap insurance.  So, I picked some up.  And, this morning, I applied it before heading out the door.

Sadly, in standard style, somewhere en route to work, it seems a good portion of the suntan/moisturizer then reappeared.  Which I didn’t realize, despite the puzzling ten minutes of people either averting their eyes or staring at me confusedly as they passed.  It wasn’t until I arrived at work, and headed to the bathroom to pee, that I discovered I was mangy with strange white patches.  The anti-suntan lotion superpower strikes again!

So it seems I’m back to the drawing board on this one.  Perhaps, with the right kind of suntan lotion, I’d have less of an issue; I know from beach use that the spray-on kind doesn’t tend to reappear, but it does leave me looking more glossy and shellacked than is probably suitable for daily use.  For the moment, it seems I’ll just have to risk the wrinkles.

Mouse & Bunny

A couple of years back, Jess bought a box of Annie’s Cheddar Bunnies – basically, organic goldfish crackers shaped like rabbits – one afternoon while we were shopping at Whole Foods.  Later that evening, we sat down on the couch to watch a movie, and she brought out the Cheddar Bunnies, to snack on while we watched.

Halfway through the movie, I asked her to hand me a few.  At which point, she looked into the box, then over to me with a guilty smile; she’d unintentionally eaten the entire box.  I told her she’d probably turned into a Cheddar Bunny herself after eating that many of them.  And, from then on, the nickname stuck.

Shortly after, in response, she tagged me Mighty Mouse, I assume due to the trifecta of small size, big ears, and super(-ish) strength.  And ever since, in texts, emails, and notes, we usually address and sign off as Cheddar Bunny and Mighty Mouse.

Jess has a talent for finding awesome greeting cards.  In the past she’s given me great ones for even minor holidays.  (For Halloween, one with a ghost on the cover that read, “You’re my boo!”; another with two skeletons – one in a tux, one in a wedding gown – holding hands: “Till death do us part is for quitters.”)  But inspired by the nickname, she’s also managed to somehow find, and give to me even on random, non-holiday days, dozens and dozens of mouse and bunny-themed cards.  (“You’re wonderful,” with a bunny dressed as Wonder Woman; “You’re somebunny special”; or, for my birthday, a grey bunny holding a slice of birthday cake: “Oh no, another grey hare!”)

As I realized I could never keep up with finding equally excellent cards in response, I decided to go an alternate route, one requiring just raw time spent rather than card-sourcing skill: I started drawing cards for her myself.

Lest that sound overly impressive, I should first caveat with a note about my artistic abilities: you know how, when you’re in kindergarten, you start by drawing stick figures, and then you move on?  Well, I didn’t.  I’d like to think of my style as sort of “outsider art”, though in truth it looks more like something you might buy at a local fair to support an after-school program for severely mentally-disabled children.

Nonetheless, I have enough enthusiasm to trump my lack of talent.  So, after doing a handful of mouse and bunny cards for our anniversary, and Christmas / Chanukah, I went all out for Jess’ 30th birthday, doing 30 cards for the 30 days leading up to it: Mouse and Bunny out for a run, at dinner together, strolling hand in hand through Central Park, etc. And they were a hit.

So, since then, I’ve been sending hand-made cards to the rest of my family.  Some, like my Father’s Day card to my dad, stand alone. (That one illustrated all the generic ‘dad gifts’ my brother and I have managed to skip over the years, whether ties, golf clubs, or bottles of Scotch.)  But other cards extended the world of Mouse and Bunny to include the rest of my family.

That was aided by the fact/weird coincidence that my brother calls his wife “goat” as a term of endearment.  (I have no idea about the origin, but it predates the bunny/mouse thing by several years.)  Therefore, I already knew how to draw my sister-in-law as an animal.  And, since my brother and parents are related to me, I obviously could just draw them as mice, too (just with different hairstyles, etc.).  Then there’s my niece and nephew, though that was also pretty easy to solve: goat parent plus mouse parent equals goat-colored mouse, or mouse-colored goat.  Thus, for my parents’ birthdays, I was able to draw them cards with the whole family (everyone at the beach for my father, at the ballet for my mom), which were also a hit.

Inspired by those successes, a month or two back, I started working on a next-level attempt: a Mouse & Bunny children’s book for Jess.  Though there’s obviously a series waiting to happen here, I started with Mouse & Bunny Go for a Hike.  I loaded it up with inside jokes, small visual gags, and details I knew she’d appreciate.  And though it took me waaaaaay longer than expected to complete, I think the time definitely paid off.

Not, admittedly, in the quality of the drawing itself, which is as bad as ever. (And given Dan Ariely’s research on the so-called Ikea Effect – “people who have created something themselves come to see their amateurish creations as similar in value to expert creations” – it must be even worse than I’m self-assessing.)  But, at least, it paid off in terms of what I hope it communicated to Jess.

As I’d otherwise have trouble putting into words how mind-blowingly, heart-overflowingly wonderful and awesome and amazing she is, or what a perfect match she is for me, those 20-some terribly illustrated pages at least show how far I’m willing to go to try and communicate that love to her nonetheless.

25

Since my freshman year in college, I’ve been using more-or-less the same approach to setting goals: I start from 25-year big-picture ones, and then trace backwards from those to 10-year, 5-year, 1-year, 1-quarter, and 1-month goals in turn.  Then, each Friday, I chart out the following week, figuring out what I need to accomplish over the next seven days to stay on track towards the 1-month goals, knowing that in turn keeps me aligned all the way back up.

Through the years since college, I’ve started companies and worked in jobs across three or four different industries, garnered a ton of life experience, and weathered ups and downs of all sorts; that, in turn, has often shifted my shorter-term goals.  But the longer-term ones—the 25-year goals in particular—have stayed remarkably stable.  So much so, in fact, that the last time I really re-thought them from scratch was when I was about 25 years old.

A month back, I turned 39.  In my usual style, I spent a bunch of my birthday thinking about the year behind and the year ahead.  And it suddenly dawned on me that, when my next birthday rolled around, the putative date for those old 25-year goals would then be just 10 years off, becoming my new de facto 10-year goals.  Which meant, in turn, that I needed a new 25-year set.

Starting from 40, those 25-year goals would take me all the way to 65.  And though I suspect I’d likely be one of those guys who never retires, I would hope by then to be at least well on my way towards leaving whatever legacy or positive impact I can on this world.  So, I’ve been spending a little bit of each day thinking through exactly what I hope that legacy or impact might be, what goals I’d like to set that make me push and stretch for the 25 years that (hopefully) lie ahead.  Much like the effective corporate BHAGs – big, hairy, audacious goals – described in the classic study Good to Great, I’ve been looking for goals that both excite me and slightly scare me.  And I have some, by now, just starting to take shape.

Still, I’m giving myself all the way until the end of this birthday year before I call them final.  If I’m hoping this set holds equally steady for the next 25 years, that probably requires at least a full year’s consideration up front.

Plus or Minus 2.5

Here’s a depressing fact: the average American gains about two and a half pounds each and every year.  Which means, over the decades, you can probably expect to slowly balloon up to increasingly ill health.

Of course, there are a slew of ways you can counter that upward trend, from healthier eating to walking more each day.  But there’s one hugely effective approach that people often overlook: building some muscle.

Unlike fat – which just sits there – muscle is metabolically active.  Which means that, just by existing, muscle burns calories.  A pound of muscle, in fact, burns about 10 calories a day.  And while that may not sound like much, it adds up surprisingly quickly.  Over the course of a year, each pound of added muscle burns off a pound of fat.

Thus, if you put on just five pounds of new muscle in one year, you would burn off five pounds of fat annually after that.  That’s enough to not only offset the average 2.5-pound gain, but also to help you lose 2.5 pounds each and every year instead.  In other words, as the decades added up and everyone else slid downhill, you’d be getting ever healthier, and looking increasingly good naked, instead.

Normally when I mention this to anyone over even just 30 years old, they tell me they’re too old to get started on lifting weights.  But as a great recent study showed, men in their mid to late 90’s, beginning strength training for the first time, still managed to build substantial strength and put on new muscle mass in just twelve weeks.  So, really, you don’t have any excuse.

In fact, research seems to be showing that strength training positively impacts pretty much every aspect of health and is possibly the single best way to ‘die young as late as possible’.  Yet, for whatever reason, the majority of exercisers still tend to pick up cardio training first (along with maybe some stretching), while overlooking strength training entirely.

But if you do what the majority does, you’ll get what the majority gets; and, here in America, in terms of bodyweight and general health, that’s probably not what you want.  So, buck the trend, and add in a couple of short strength training sessions each week.

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A quick addendum:

In discussion with friends here today, I was reminded that there’s often confusion about what actually constitutes strength training, and about how people gain muscle.  To make a long story short, it boils down to something called ‘progressive overload’ – essentially, lifting incrementally more weight over time.  If you can press ten-pound dumbbells overhead today, and are still pressing those same dumbbells in six months, you haven’t gotten any stronger, and you won’t gain any of that fat-burning, health-promoting new muscle you want.  Instead, you need to build to twelve then fifteen then twenty-pound dumbbells over future months to see results.

That’s hardly a new revelation.  It dates back at least to the 6th Century BC, when Milo of Crete became the most famous athlete in all of Greece after winning the gold medal in wrestling (the big deal sport at the time) six Olympics in a row.  He was a farm boy and had trained by picking

Happy Birthday to Me

At one point in The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell notes that regrets are simply illuminations that arrive too late. In the past few years, I’ve had some ups and downs. And, in the wake of that, I’ve had countless illuminations, as well as more insights and moments of growth than in entire decades prior. But, happily, I don’t think those are arriving too late.

Today, I turned 39. And, at least based on good family genes and the best estimates of actuarial tables, I’m hoping to have a whole second half of my life ahead of me. Which is why I’m feeling particularly optimistic this birthday. I’ve been considering today a pivot, the point after which the years ahead are open vistas of possibility. And I’m looking forward to decades of putting those new-found, hard-won insights and illuminations to good use.

Mail Calling

“What can you learn from working in the mail room? You won’t learn humility. You won’t learn respect. You won’t learn the company inside out or from the bottom up. What you will learn is something very important, and perhaps a bit frightening, about yourself.

The people who get ahead have a need, are driven to perform a task well, no matter what the task is or how mundane it may actually be. They bring to any job an attitude which actually transforms the job into something greater. Carpenters who become contractors at one time had a need to drive a nail straighter and truer than anyone else. Waiters who end up owning restaurants were at one time very good waiters.

Some executives, had they started in the mail room, would still be sorting mail – and misrouting most of it.”

Mark McCormack, founder, IMG

In the Wee Small Hours

For the last year or two, I’ve been starting each quarter with five days of Fast-Mimicking Diet, a low calorie (1000C on the first day, 700C each on days two-five), low protein quasi-fast that research is increasingly backing as a great tool for cancer prevention, longevity, and general health.  This quarter, I started the FMD a few days early, at the end of June, so I’d be done in time to BBQ binge on the 4th.  And, as per usual, I also used the FMD as a chance to take a week off from the gym, both because I think an intermittent complete break from training is wise in general, and because it’s almost a necessity for me given the week’s calorie restriction versus my normal, fast-metabolism-driven ‘human garbage disposal’ eating style.

Most quarters, however, I still do a bunch of walking during my FMD-ing.  But as my previously-mentioned knee tweak is still on the mend, without really meaning to, I’d also temporarily dropped from my usual daily 10-15k steps to just whatever bare minimum of limpy walking was required to get to work or meals or move around indoors.  Thus, for the final days of last week I was barely moving, and over the weekend, I pretty much wasn’t moving at all.

Early this year, when I started having back pain, I traced it to a similar walking fall-off, and ‘miraculously’ cured myself just by starting doing sufficient daily walking again.  But, apparently, I’m a slow learner.  Or, conversely, maybe I didn’t realize how quickly the absence of walking could be felt—especially if I’m also not pushing myself in the gym.

Indeed, by Saturday night, I got in bed, and spent several hours staring at the ceiling before I was finally able to fall asleep.  And then, on Sunday, despite being super tired all day, I again got in bed and couldn’t fall asleep, this time for pretty much the entire night, watching the time slowly tick by in fifteen minute increments until I gave up and groggily got out of bed at 5am.

By Monday, I felt terrible.  But I was also at least just smart enough to have identified potential cause and effect.  So, I got in at least 7500 steps, tweaky knee be damned.  And I made it to the gym for a short workout, easing back into light squats, presses, and deadlifts.

Monday evening, I was out cold almost before my head hit the pillow.  And then slept like a log for eight and a half hours straight.

So, if your own sleep is less stellar than you might hope, consider adding some movement into your day.  Even thirty minutes of fast walking makes a big difference for me, and that’s a small amount of time to invest for seven or eight far-more-pleasant hours of snoozing in exchange.

Dogfooding

As research for Composite, I’ve been reading like a madman of late: physical therapy textbooks, Eastern Bloc Olympic weightlifting research, NFL team training manuals, behavioral medicine medical journal articles, etc.  And, from it all, I’ve been generating reams of notes, studded with an almost endless list of ideas to test out.  Because, as I’ve learned the hard way over the years in the fitness space, there’s often a gap between what works on paper, and what’s actually successful (or even implementable) in the real world.  No matter how much intellectual sense a training concept makes, you still won’t know if it’s an excellent or terrible idea until you actually try it out.

Fortunately, I have two crews of brave and enthusiastic Composite alpha-release guinea pigs, on whom I’ve been able to test things out, with great results. And even before new ideas make it to those two groups, they first get filtered by testing on Jess.  As she’s still obligated to like me even if the workouts I give her suck, and as she’s most definitely not afraid to express her strong opinions to me (on Composite or anything else), she’s ideally suited to the job.  But even before Jess, the first wave of trials happen in my own workouts, using myself as patient zero.  I’d like to think I’m sort of like Salk or Curie, albeit with lower odds of a Nobel prize, but possibly with better abs.

Surprisingly, most of the ideas I’ve been testing out have turned out better than expected.  But every so often, one goes quite wrong indeed.  Which is how I ended up on crutches today, with a sprained left knee.  (Lesson learned: depth jump sprint reaction drills = no.)  Frankly, it’s a pretty minor sprain, so I can make do without the crutches.  But based on the amount of walking in my schedule this week, and the ‘pimp walk’ I was unintentionally doing when crutch-less, it seemed taking weight off the joint for a couple of days might be wise.  Still, I don’t imagine I’ll be on crutches for more than another day or two, and by the end of next week I’m hoping to be back to full health.  And, therefore, back to self-testing further crazy Composite ideas.

Generally speaking, I tell people “no pain, no gain’” is a terrible piece of fitness advice.  But, I guess, at least for my specific purpose here, it seems to be the cost of doing business.  As the inimitable Twain once put it, “you can learn certain things holding a cat by its tail that you can’t learn any other way.”

 

Sweet Honey

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error! –
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

– Antonio Machado [translated by Robert Bly]