Today I Celebrate Two Months of Cycling

On July 1st I set out for my first bike ride since 1998. I was nervous, winded and had to take at least two sit down breaks to rest. I couldn't keep up to my seven year old son as we pedalled through a paved bike path in the city's suburbs. My bike was uncomfortable and the next day my elbows were so sore and weak I thought my forearms were going to fall off.

Today, just two months later, I was out buying a pair of cycling shorts (innershorts to be specific) and pair of cycling socks so I could squeeze into an old pair of cycling shoes. You might say, I'm a bit of a cycling fanatic. These days I'm not getting winded riding with my son. Hell, I can't even get my heart rate up above 70% (in any sort of training zone) riding with him these days.

I write a lot about how far I've come fitness-wise. The moral of the story here is: Don't underestimate yourself or your body, no matter what shape you're in. Even though I once went from sedentary and obese to thin and fit some fifteen years ago, I still fell into the trap all these years later of doubting my body. I doubted my ability to become fit at 44. I created a bunch of my own misconceptions of what a 44 year old man who is 200 pounds overweight can do.

Only recently have I started to relax on my bike and have fun, not fearing it's going to collapse beneath me, in spite of the fact that a couple of days ago I broke a lawn chair and hurt my leg and elbow.

Last night I did my first jog back on the street after jogging at my clinic's gym all summer. When I started out I had this weird, unsettling feeling. I was moving like I was jogging but I didn't feel the normal sensations that I expected to feel. I felt like I was floating down the street without any effort.

I decided that it must have been six days off (of jogging) combined with my new runners and a summer of building muscles in my legs and the muscle that is my heart. A couple minutes in, I started feeling some of the normal feelings but it was quite jolting at first to see how far I've come.

Two months ago, I wouldn't have believed any of this. And I'm sure I still have plenty of learning to do.

UPDATE: The pants work great and made for a very comfortable ride.

My Children are Watching

My exercise spider.

My chatty seven year old son talks to me frequently about my exercise, diet and weight loss. He's told me a few times that I look smaller and tries to encourage me. He's not the least bit overweight but I find him quoting the nutritional information on food packaging now before HE eats it. It's obvious that what I'm doing is being noticed by my kids.

I didn't think my other child, a three year old girl named Amelia was noticing, but I was wrong. She sees me going to the gym and going for walks/jogs. I'm usually heading out the door for my evening walk when she's getting tucked into bed. Sometimes she blows me a kiss after I've left that is to find me out on the side walk.

One day a few weeks ago she presented me with a paper cutout spider that she made all on her own. She asked then that I take it with me to the gym. She hasn't forgotten. Every time I go for a walk or head to the gym she says, "Don't forget to take my spider with you."

It'd be easy for me to read much more into this than is actually there but I sense that my lifestyle changes are being very much noticed by my kids, in a weighty way.

The 12-Year-Old Me Went Biking with My Son

Not actually us but it's strangely close.

I'm still reflecting on the bike ride I had with my son last night on one of the last warm evenings of summer. I asked him recently if he had any other goals or things he wanted to do before the summer ended. He thought about it and said, "I want to ride our bikes to Grandma's." He informed me it was only half the distance of our big 18 KM bike path bike ride a week or so ago. I checked it out on Google Maps and the kid was right (9 KM one way.) He knows his geography, that boy.

This was his first time in traffic. Mine too, in my latest cycling rebirth. It says a lot about how far I've come in two month. I was completely comfortable riding in public. And two months ago I was chasing my son, sucking wind. Nowadays the little bugger has to keep up with me (which is hard for the poor little guy.)

The bike ride was flawless and relaxed. No pushing hard to beat the sun or oncoming storms. It was leisurely, stress-free and fun. It reminded me of when I was about eleven or twelve years old, a time when I broke free from the constraints of my neighbourhood and started exploring the city, often on warm summer evenings. It was during that time that I really fell in love with cycling.

Last night those old childhood cycling feelings of freedom and joy were rekindled. My inner child who adored cycling got to go for a bike ride with my beloved boy, Aiden, who also adores cycling, even before he knew his daddy was capable of it.

The Fire in My Belly

When I started this process, I think the Tanita body composition scale said I was something like 200 pounds over-weight. I had a BMI of nearly 50. I really have yet to improve upon those numbers that much. Maybe more importantly of note, I had lived an ever-deteriorating sedentary lifestyle (how could I not have with those numbers?)

Over the two years prior to the start of my change I more and more often felt disabled. It's not that I was lamenting not being able to run a marathon, but that I couldn't do normal, able-bodied person things like stand up for an extended period, for example. I began to avoid everyday, common situations that might be too physically demanding for me. A social invitation had to be analysed: Could I fit in the booth at that restaurant? Could I handle being outside in the heat at a barbecue? I was feeling less and less capable. I was concerned that I was becoming truly disabled.

A severely overweight person misses out on a lot of things. Lacking speed and agility on the playground as a kid was only the beginning of my life's problems, not to mention the social stigma of being overweight (I wonder if it's any easier nowadays since there a lot more kids with weight problems.) The one time I tried out for organized sports when I was a child, I was sent home for being too heavy. There was a weight limit on the pee-wee football team. I could give you a thousand such examples. I  won't give them all to you at once, but I'll spread some of them out in other posts over time.

A fat person grows up feeling shackled, unable to do everything that a normal (healthy) person does, unable to live life to the fullest, unable to do everything they want to. Every day growing up they are more and more conditioned into believing they are not equal to the healthy majority.

This is why there's a fire in my belly. An exercise fire. I am determined to change my body to make it the healthiest, strongest, most capable I can. And walking's just not going to cut it.

I've been told for years by medical professionals to walk. Walking is healthy and is an excellent exercise for anyone of any age and any fitness level. But it only goes so far in changing the body to make it all it can be. I yearn to be more fit.

The fire was stoked last night when I went on a bike ride with my young son through every nook and cranny of our subdivision. It was casual, it was easy and I felt like I did when I was a kid. It brought me back to moments and evenings of riding my bike when I was young and the feelings of freedom and the fun that I had. Throughout the years, and through many bicycles, I've often felt I had a special relationship with my given bike of the day that involved bonding and trust. I once again have that relationship with my bike. If that sounds hokey, you've never been a passionate cyclist.

Those around me through the years have sometimes categorized me as someone who won't grow up. A very few frustrating people have thumbed their noses at me every time I did or said something less than serious. I pity this type of serious, constrained, often joyless person. There's nothing wrong with having fun and letting your guard down as an adult. There's nothing wrong we staying young. I've been a happier person and a better person for it.

But a person with a serious weight problem frequently misses out on those good feelings for all kinds of reasons. We often feel restrictions from being socially ostracised, not being able to participate in everything that life has to offer, or simply from the mindset you develop where you think you can't or shouldn't do a lot of things because of your weight. I never allowed myself to swim in public, for example (more on that on another day.) Is there anything more fun than playing in water? I missed out on that.

My medical professionals always seem to be telling me to take it easy and concentrate on changing my lifestyle in a lasting way. They remind me to be patient. But once the shackles start coming off, you want it all. If a person confined to a wheel chair for much of his or her life could suddenly walk, I'm sure they'd want to run. And run and run! That analogy might be a little overblown, but I hope it helps you better understand how I feel.

I do worry that, like with so many other things with me, it'll be all or nothing when it comes to fitness. I fear that I might not have the time or enthusiasm some day and just stop (again.)

For now, though, my life-long profession is that of athlete. I want to become a little more fit every day and start taking back what I've missed out on. That means jogging, cycling and having access to equipment at the gym. At the core of my fitness routine will be walking, but there's so much more my body is capable of, and it's exhilarating to discover that every day.

Obesity and Employment: Remembering the Way Things Were

I was asked earlier in the summer to remember how things were before I started exercising this spring and to write them down so I'd not forget. At the time I spoke of what dramatic changes I had seen in my energy levels and my everyday physical abilities.

You may have already read that last winter I found myself confined to a bed most of the day. I was too sore, too tired, too weak to do much more. As a stay at home parent, I began to regret my lack of physical ability to give my children all the attention they deserved.

My main activity with my three-year-old daughter was to read stories in bed with her during the day while my wife worked. I didn't have much energy to look after the house either. Putting a load of dishes into the dishwasher was a big deal. I really wasn't a shining example of a stay at home dad.

What's surprising to me now is how quickly I have forgotten the details of my daily life back then even though it was just a few months ago. I really need to not forget. I'm hoping this blog will help.

As a stay at home parent, I did poorly at my "job" due to my physical limitations (that were ever-deteriorating, it seemed.) I didn't much imagine myself with an actual job, with responsibilities, long days and unable to lay in bed whenever I required.

I do work a few days a year as a comic actor in film and television. It's a long, sordid story how I became an actor, so I won't bore you with it. I don't pursue acting, but sometimes I am pursued, mostly by people I know, to do the occasional comedy acting gig in front of a camera.

Most people, even those who share my affliction, might assume that motion picture acting is perfectly doable for someone with a severe weight problem. I was starting to find that this is not the case. I was becoming less than capable of the job physically. I began to struggle with the simplest of tasks.

In the last couple of years I'd have a hard time getting out of chairs in a scene. Or walking up a flight of stairs without gasping and sweating profusely. There's a long tradition of "fat" comic actors in North American, but I was getting too big and too limited to be an appealing choice for directors.

Last year I was asked to audition for a small one-time role in a national TV show. I was asked by a friend who produced the show who thought I'd be suitable for the part. He knew my abilities as a comic actor and probably thought the audition would just be a formality. But I had to walk up four flights of stairs to get to the audition and even after a half hour of waiting in the heat, still sweating profusely, I couldn't remember my name when it came time to perform, let alone my lines. I was completely humiliated and thought I'd never act again.

In the spring of this year, just as I was starting to make changes in my life through the support of my medical clinic, I suffered another humiliation. I was asked to audition for a bank commercial that could possibly lead to further promotional work. I nailed the audition comedy-wise and was a top two finalist, but in the end, they didn't want me promoting their bank based on my physical appearance (showbiz is a cruel profession.)

Last week I performed in what was probably the largest role of my 25 year (casual) acting career, at least largest in the quantity of the part (it's a low-budget web series.) When I was hired for it in April, I did a screen test with the acquaintance who asked me to be in his project. In that screen test I worried about my ability to get up out of a chair. In fact, it was quite difficult and I struggled.

But last week, when it came time to actually make the show, I was a different man. Last week I didn't have any problems putting in a nine or ten hour day (I actually asked at the outset not to have days longer than 8 hours, which they often are.) I didn't have any problem walking three quarters of a block away to change my costume a dozen times in a day. I didn't have any problems walking up and down steps, and I didn't have any problems getting out of chairs. I couldn't have done this capably a year ago, or even a few months ago.

The truth is, when I was hired for this in the spring, I had no idea if I could actually do it due to my health. If I hadn't started getting in shape, this project would have been extremely difficult for me, I would have likely faltered and suffered further humiliation. However, as it turned out, I aced the role and my acting career will live to see another day.

But I have to remember what things were like before I started exercising. It's important to my long term success.

New Shooz

Nike Air Pegasus, Livestrong (about $130 in Canada)

I decided to buy some new running shoes yesterday and, after some research, found that one of Nike's most popular runner (Air) is one of the shoes commonly recommended for someone like me who has high arches and/or is heavy. The reason these shoes are good for me is their high amount of cushioning in the heal. They happen to have been my running shoe of choice over the years but I rarely splurge on expensive runners except when I'm on a fitness kick.

But let me tell ya, it's worth it!

What a huge difference they make, especially when I'm jogging. I really noticed their benefit when I started trotting on the treadmill this morning. It seemed like gravity had been reduced slightly! (P.S.: I'm all for having gravity reduced if for no other reason than to stop the sagging.)

The difference was so noticeable that I was repeatedly surprised to see my heart rate at the top end of my training zone (85% of max.) because my lower body felt so good. It didn't feel like it was working as hard as it normally does when I jog. And my ankle pain was more or less non-existent.

I set a new personal modern day record for jogging time by doing 12 minutes on the treadmill at incline 1 (to match real-world exertion.) I felt pretty good afterwards, considering it's twice as long as I normally jog.

Today was my last workout at my clinic for some time as I wait to get my 3 year old daughter into a preschool in the fall. Hopefully when she starts somewhere in late September, I can have the time and the freedom to get back to the gym. (We have absolutely no childcare support because we have little surviving family left in town and no other options that we can afford.)

The gym at my medical clinic was made available to me to support my lifestyle changes. Some day I hope to write a nice long post about how amazing my medical clinic is and how I think everyone should have access to the services they provide free of charge.

Goal Completed and I Feel Like a Million Bucks!

My son and I cycled the length of the longest bike path in my city at dusk tonight (about 18 KM total). This has been a goal of mine for many weeks. Before that, it was a dream.

We had to push hard to beat the fading twilight. I got a great workout because my heart rate stayed up in the 80% range for most of the trip, which took about an hour and ten minutes.

I try to cycle on cool evenings because I get exhausted easily by the heat, due to my excessive weight, I assume. I learned that I need to take more than one bottle of water with me on these trips because my large body needs more hydration than a regular sized person.

I can't tell you how amazing I feel right now. And it's not just because I completed an important goal, erasing the ghost of a past humiliation (not being able to go with my seven-year-old son last Fall when he first completed this marathon bike ride alone), but because of how perfectly healthy and invigorated I feel.

The storm that chased us the other night must have got me in good shape for tonight because tonight I did NOT feel like a morbidly-obese man (which I still am).

I didn't feel like an obese man.

I didn't feel like a fat man.

I didn't even feel like a middle-aged man (which I am.)

I felt like I did fifteen years ago when I was 29, lost all my excess weight and was in the best shape of my life. I felt like I could go on forever on this beautiful August night (provided I had more water!)

The fact that I did this, the fact that I feel so remarkably good physically at this moment seems like a dream.

If I keep going, if I never stop, I'll never wake up from this dream. And that's what I have to do.

Bike Ride Leads to Electrifying Bonding Experience With My Son

My son, his trusty bike, and approaching weather.

I've been looking for motivation to do more cycling. I've upgraded my bike to (possibly) support my weight, I'm training at my clinic's gym to have the strength to do it, but for some reason, I'm still a little hesitant to "get on the horse," as it were.

Part of the reason may be that it can be difficult at first if I'm not warmed up. Doing a few minutes of slow jogging after 15-20 minutes of walking doesn't seem more than a progression of what I'm already doing.

Biking can involve a getting the heart rate up fast and, frankly, I have to dig the thing out of the shed, fill my water bottle and don extra shorts, gloves and a helmet. And part of me wants to preserve my bike until I'm lighter.

Starved for entertainment, I decided tonight was the night I was going to tackle the Devonian Pathway in my city. It's a multi-use pathway that spans about 8 KM or so, covering much of the city. Last fall my son, who was still six years old, rode the entire pathway by himself. It was part of a parenting philosophy I've embraced to give my children freedom so they can learn not to be fearful and to solve problems on their own. In short, it's an anti-helicopter parenting philosophy. There's a movement, check it out.

I let my son do it because he's quite smart for his age, knows more than most GPSs when it comes to geography and he really wanted to do it. Normally I would have gone with him on my bike but I was unable to due to my poor physical condition. It would have suited him fine if I was able to go, it's not that he was asking to go alone, but he was eager to attempt it, even without me or his mother riding with him.

I followed in a car but due to the nature of the terrain, I wasn't able to keep constant watch on him. I had a few nervous moments waiting for him to appear at the next check point but he always did, with a big smile on his face, pedalling like crazy (he only lost his training wheels two months earlier.)

I couldn't do what he was doing and I regretted it. At the time I didn't even dare to dream that I ever could attempt something like that again in my lifetime. Tonight, I set out to put that skeleton in my closet behind me. I decided we'd do the path tonight. I figured it'd take an hour or so round trip.

However, storm clouds threatened. There was a line of rain pouring out of the sky to the west of the city. The trail starts at the West end of the city and it seemed like it might hit us. My boy, now seven, pushed me to continue. "We can always turn around Daddy."

We got about half way when the lightning got a little too intense and a little too close. I changed my mind about the storm missing us. My son convinced me to turn around and make the fifteen minute trip back to the van, even though we'd be going into the storm.

I was wearing my heart rate monitor strap that happens to work with my old bike computer from fifteen years ago. I can see my heart rate on the little computer screen, below my speed, distance, etc. As we pushed hard to beat the rain clouds and lightning, I could see my heart rate rising to the 85% level, the maximum my doctor recommended I go.

I began weighing the risk of heart attack vs the risk of being hit by lightning. Maybe it didn't matter because a friend later joked, "lightning is nature's defibrillator." I kept my heart rate at 85% even though I wanted to pedal harder to possibly save my life. (OK, it wasn't that bad!)

As the skies grew even darker, the wind blew harder and the rain began to pelt us, I told my son that in all the years I've cycled (avidly until my early twenties when obesity came, and again later when I got fit for a period) that I had never cycled in a thunderstorm. The first time was with him.

I was really impressed with my son. He watches the weather channel a lot and we worry that he might be scared of severe weather but he was cool as a cucumber. The kid who runs in the house to change as soon as he gets water on himself outside on a hot day didn't even want to change into dry clothes when we got home.

I suspect he will remember this evening fondly for the rest of his life. I will too. There's nothing like cheating death to bring a family together.

It's also a good way to get a wicked workout.

My Doctor Ordered Me to Buy a Gadget

A Sportline heart rate monitor w/ strap

Many of my more cynical friends will tell you I like me my electronic gadgets. This is how geek testosterone manifests itself. Other men pursue pick-up trucks and moustaches, I outfit myself with circuits and flashing lights. That's why I was weak on willpower when my doctor ordered me to go buy a gadget.

I had a conversation about my fitness pursuit with him and, since I haven't seen him since he tricked me into seeing a nutritionist and setting my life change in motion several months ago, I asked him about exercise advice. They always say, "See your doctor before starting any exercise program," I told him, and his response took me by complete surprise.

"Yes I do have one piece of advice," he said. "And only one piece. Go buy yourself a heart rate monitor for sixty dollars at SportMart."

My doctor even advised me on where to shop!

He got busy scribbling numbers on a scrap piece of paper. They were, in fact, the heart rate zones for exercise as they pertain to a person my age. I was quite familiar with this information through my research and use of a said heart rate monitors the last time I went on a fitness quest.

Basically, you take the number 220 and minus your age to get your maximum heart rate. No matter what you do, your heart can't and won't beat any faster than your maximum heart rate. If you exceed 85% of your MHR, you might put some stress on your heart if you're not healthy and, in my doctor's view, make yourself more sore and have a counter-productive workout. I'd doubt many fitness experts would agree with that wholly, based on what I've read, but they'd probably advise an obese 44 year old like me to try and keep below that 85% level.

They used to think that exercising at a lower intensity, say 65% of your maximum heart rate, was good for fat burning. Now I don't think they believe it makes much of a difference. But that's a discussion for another day. For more information, see this introduction to heart rate monitoring or the Wikipedia article on heart rate.

A heart rate monitor strap on a man with erect nipples.

I had a heart rate monitor before as part of my bike computer, of all things. I used to strap the monitor on my chest and go biking, looking at the readout of what my heart was doing on my bike computer. (I still have it but I can't find the strap.) Then I bought one as an accessory to my treadmill (and have since lost it.) I learned what level of breathing intensity corresponded to what my heart was doing. If I could carry out a conversation without gasping, but was unable to sing a song, I was in my moderate or "training" zone. Not too low, not too high.

So, armed with my doctor's advice--nay, orders--I went to WalMart and bought a watch style heart rate monitor that you can use with or without a strap around your chest. It has a strap included but you can also take two fingers, place them on the watch and it will tell you your pulse quite easily and accurately.

I didn't for a second think this would work accurately but it does! It gives me the same reading with my fingers as it does with the strap and the reading stays constant, without going all over the place, causing you to lose faith in its preciseness.

Using the strap gives you a continuous readout of your heart rate and the watch will track how much time you spend below your target zone, in your zone, and above your zone. It'll even beep if you go too high, which leads me to my next point.

The second or third time I tried jogging in my recent fitness journey, I did a thirty second interval which turned into forty seconds because I would have had to stop in front of a family on their front lawn watching the obese man trying to jog. Although my breathing wasn't overly intense at the forty seconds, it took off on me shortly afterwards.

That means my heart was racing towards its maximum rate because I was sucking wind, as they say. My chest tightened up and I started to get concerned that I was going to have a cardiac event. That didn't happen, but I was very cautious from that point forward and restricted my jogs to the length of time I set out to do.

I asked my doctor if I risked dropping dead by exercise and he basically told me that if I stay within reasonable heart rate limits (not at the maximum), I'll be fine. He described the tightening of the chest before I even mentioned it to him and told me that was one reason to purchase a monitor.

I like the heart rate monitor I bought today and will use it on a treadmill in winter as well, and at the gym.

My walk tonight produced a heart rate of 116 beats per minute, give or take a beat or two, which is about 67% of my maximum. Pretty much where you'd expect a walk to be, but as a measure of improving fitness, I'd bet it's much lower than when I first started walking four months ago.

I will say that I felt a little like Robocop out there tonight, with my iPod Touch tracking my pace and talking in my ear, the Nike Plus shoe sensor on my shoe, my heart rate watch on my wrist and a monitor strapped around my chest. But what the heck? It's all a little dose of motivation. The more you know what's going on with your body the better, in my opinion.

I'm Surprised I'm Fat

Although I've shed fifty pounds of fat mass, it really doesn't amount to much in the grand scheme of things. Very few people even notice my reduced size unless I bring it up, then they look me over and concede it's possible.

That fact is, I'm a very large person and fifty pounds doesn't amount to much more appearance-wise than the equivalent of me sucking in my stomach. With someone my size, fifty pounds translates into only a shirt size or two in reduction. With someone smaller it might be a pant size per ten pounds.

So I'm still a gigantic "morbidly" obese man by all accounts, but the remarkable thing is I've begun to forget this fact. I find myself surprised by my appearance when I look in the mirror. I assume I'm not morbidly obese any longer because I've stopped feeling morbidly obese. Exercise has made me feel so "normal," strong and capable that it almost doesn't matter that I'm huge.

One approach that has crossed my mind is to solely focus on exercise and not worry about diet so much. Exercise has decreased my appetite for whatever reason and I feel obliged to eat more reasonably when I'm exercising regularly.

I saw my doctor today and he didn't notice anything different about me, although he was very happy when I filled him in on my progress. The last time I saw him five months ago, I was a very different person. Then, it would have been an agonizing, slow and tedious journey from my bed to his exam room.

What he didn't see today was how I floated effortlessly into his clinic, strong, energetic, and with a very capable cardiovascular system that wasn't sucking air before I got ten feet from the car.

The Crack House on the Corner

Once we're hooked we come here looking for another fix.

Last summer there was an over-blown kerfuffle in the North American media over KFC's introduction of the Double Down sandwich (no buns, just chicken, bacon, etc) that the chain boasted had 610 calories and enough salt to do you for a day or two. The attention this sandwich got bothered me because the media was ignoring the larger picture: the fact that this item was hardly the worst thing on fast food menus.

Again this spring there was a flurry of media reports on the return of the KFC Double Down. This time it has a little less sodium. But since last summer's introduction of this obscene concoction, McDonald's has changed it's menu with marquee items that put the Double Down to shame.

McDonald's quietly changed their Angus burger from one version to three more nutritionally disastrous versions, two of which clock in at a startling 780 calories with up to 47 grams of fat. A Big Mac only has a 540 calories and 29 grams of fat. Many people assume Angus beef is healthier because it's more lean. That's not the case here.

McDonald's new Angus burgers

Big Macs used to be what we compared all unhealthy food to ("Don't eat movie popcorn, it's got X number of Big Macs in it!") But every new major fast food item these days seems to be worse than anything that came before it. So much for fast food chains responding to the obesity epidemic. (There's a myth, by the way, that McDonald's and other restaurants got rid of the "super-size" option. This is not the case!)

Where I live, breakfast biscuits are a new option for McDonald's breakfast sandwiches, introduced just a few months ago. Biscuits sounded harmless to me at first but I discovered that they are not. A bacon and egg sandwich on a biscuit instead of an English muffin adds 140 calories and almost twice the fat!

Before that McDonald's introduced the McGriddle which also had many more calories than their original English muffin breakfast sandwiches. It was all over the financial sections of newspapers that this product was a great success to the corporation's bottom line.

Fat sells. And they know it.

I keep coming across a business-related documentary on the history of McDonald's, airing on a cable news channel. In it we see the modern McDonald's headquarters where they've hired the top chefs available out of chef schools. They come up with all kinds of new things from gourmet salads to lobster and they spend a lot of time getting feedback from paid taste testers.

I laugh when I see these elite chefs talk about exciting and nutritious potential new products. The fact is they could offer good food but the corporation knows it's the high fat, high calorie food that sells best. Not only is that the preferred food in their restaurants, but more importantly, it's the food that gets people hooked on the physiological rewards that such food gives us. It keeps people coming back for more. And more...

McDonald's and other fast food restaurants are legalized crack houses catering to our fat addictions. Addictions created by the food they knowingly devise with that end in mind.

The first one is always free.