Because we are middle-aged (and it’s so much fun), Bill has found that he needs to count his daily fiber consumption. He was going to do it by hand, but I already had a program – Lose It! – on my iTouch, which is for counting calories, but also happens to do nutritional information like fiber. Much easier than keeping a paper trail.
So I set it up for him, putting in his gender and age and current weight. I asked him his goal weight, and he gave me a number about 10 pounds less than his current weight. I told the program that he would like to lose 1 pound per week, a very modest goal. The program set his daily caloric intake at around 1000 calories a day. Bill argued that this was way too low for an adult male. I pointed out that he was the one who told me a goal weight less than his current weight, and if he didn’t want to count calories to just ignore that part.
Of course, it’s hard to ignore the bar graph that shows your excess calories in bright red every day for the week. And it’s hard to look at what the program is telling you is the calorie count for a slice of pizza, especially when you ate 3 for dinner. This is why counting calories is such a great method of weight control/loss. When those numbers add up, you feel guilty, and you make different choices.
I’d like to point out that the app has been unused for months – not because I think my weight is fabulous, but because I hated being reminded of how many calories I had eaten. Best to ignore it…ignorance is bliss…I like bliss.
The other night, Bill was entering his meals for the day as we lay in bed. He showed me how poorly he was keeping to the 1000 calories, especially that day with pizza, and I pointed out that the program gives you more calories when you exercise…had he done anything that day? No. His job is sedentary, and he had not made the time to do anything else.
“We could have sex tonight…” he suggested. Foreplay for the middle-aged.
“Does it give calories burned in ten minute increments?”
Laughter is also good exercise.
He checked the program and found sexual activity. “Sorry. It only does 30 minutes increments.”
“How many calories?”
“Wait. You can change it to ‘vigorous sexual activity’. That’s nineteen.”
“I think I’d rather go to sleep. Hardly seems worth it.” I teased, but it was after 10 pm.
“Vacuuming is 95 calories for a half hour,” he mentioned, flipping through the list.
“Vacuuming burns more calories than sex? Hmm.” Housework was suddenly very appealing, but not as appealing as sleep.
“Sleep is not listed,” my husband pointed out. Oh, well. The mattress was too comfortable and the hour too late to care. “Can you get me up in the morning when you go running?”
Yes. That I would do. Just so his bar graph would look nicer.