The Eyes Have It

Unless you have lying eyes, the numbers below are pretty believable. Since I am old enough to have been over 16 years old for the entire span of the date range, I can’t argue with the trend direction.

US adult obesity rate:

1975 - 12%
1985 - 15%
1998 - 25%
2014 - 35%
2024 - 42%
2031 - 50% (projected)

For a decent chuck of those years, I could validate the data by simply looking in the mirror. Middle age. Lack of focus. I now work in a very public place, so it isn’t very hard to take a quick survey of random people walking by my aisle. All ages, all demographics. The numbers shown, if based on BMI, are probably low estimates. And the number of folks significantly beyond the beginnings of obese is quite sad.

The BMI scale was designed to judge large datasets of people, not individuals. If you put your information into a BMI calculator, it is really an eye-opener to see what has to happen to get below a 25 score. Unfortunately, it is very easy to be over 30, or Obese.

Beyond just making me wonder what happened, it makes me wonder why and how? Has the US population been unknowingly poisoned? What would it take to actively reverse this trend?

How Did I Get Here?

Before there was a health success story for me, there were many years where I was not eating (and drinking) in a healthy manner, I apparently wasn’t even trying. While many people can fairly cite many external factors, reasons, or even excuses, that approach wouldn’t be a fair test for me.

Several things happened all at once around 2010 that make it easy to see in hindsight. I left a trail of breadcrumbs (pun intended) on my computer and smartphones. Photos of meals, cooking accomplishments and mastery of the grill. The explosion of craft beers occurred during this same time-frame. For me, that was more fun than wine tasting. But I had a wine phase, too. Homemade pizza phase. Comfort food phase. Even a sushi roll phase.

For most of those years, I lived by myself, was a man of means, and had access to excellent health care benefits. I had plenty of time to seek help, exercise more, or just attempt change.

Instead, I worked diligently at my desk job replete with break-room donuts, absorbed the stress, and celebrated with carb-heavy foods and a cold beer. Apparently too often? Now, via Google Photos, I regularly receive an “On this date…” email with a little gallery of evidence. It serves as a reminder to try. And to continue to try even harder. The pizza looks good…but I’ll pass.