Obsessed: America's Food Addiction--And My Own (20 page)

I did some research and found a body of compelling studies that told me what I already suspected: very low-calorie diets do work, but they are best when combined with behavior modification. A behavior modification program most likely to lead to a permanent lifestyle change should include nutrition education, advice for changing patterns of eating, training in self-awareness and assertiveness, and instruction in coping techniques
.

I turned to a program like that at the end of May. Offered as an alternative to bariatric surgery at the Hospital of Central Connecticut, the Take Off program limits food intake to 800 calories a day, taken in protein shakes, with a little fruit and some salad greens on the side. It’s a drastic approach, but I had a drastic problem. The Take Off program generally lasts twelve weeks, but I am still on it after six months. It requires weekly weigh-ins, weekly visits with a nurse and a doctor, and a series of twelve hour-long classes on nutrition and behavior modification. Just as it takes a village to raise a child, it also seems to take a village, or at least a sizable team, to help me meet Mika’s challenge
.

As I listened to the other patients in the Take Off classes, I realized that our struggles are very much the same, although some people weighed a hundred pounds more than I do. They are men and women, some younger and some older than I am. Several are a lot sicker. A few are limping because of bad knees or hips, and a couple are toting oxygen tanks. I wondered how they had overcome the discrimination they must have faced, but it wasn’t something we talked about. It’s good to be in their company, because it reminds me of where I am headed if I don’t lose the weight this time, and make it stick. I’ll never forget the week when the lecture described the relationship
between obesity and diabetes. “How many of you are diabetic?” the lecturer asked. Nearly every hand in the room went up, except mine. At least I had dodged that bullet
.

The Take Off program has given me a chance to wipe the slate clean and to learn something new. And it’s working. Who wants a glass of wine after drinking protein shakes all day? I’m not hungry and the salad greens at night are fulfilling my desire to sit down with Tom at the end of the day and share a meal. As the weight falls off, I am really encouraged and excited
.

By the third week on the program, Take Off’s physician, Dr. Thomas Lane, cut my blood pressure medication in half. The next week, my blood pressure readings were still good. I was starting to see another impact of losing weight. Week after week, the weight loss has been steady, though shockingly slow for a diet this restrictive. Two pounds a week at most, and for several weeks in a row only half a pound. But as I leave the weekly sessions, often heading to the gym, I try to concentrate on where I was when Mika challenged me, and how much better I am doing now. That’s a lot more productive than dwelling on how much I still have to lose
.

By mid-July, Dr. Lane had taken me off blood pressure medication entirely. Yeah!

When I begin to move beyond the Take Off program, I will also need to learn how to eat again. Over the long haul, cutting back on processed foods and eating more plant-based whole foods is clearly the way to go. I will also need to relearn what appropriate portion sizes are, something I had really lost track of in the last few years
.

By August, the other clients at the gym start noticing the change
in me. One woman says, “You’re glowing.” She’s right, and it’s not the sweat. Andy has me boxing, and even though I am still a klutz, I am moving a lot better. Lateral movement, which was drastically inhibited by my hip pain, is so much better. I realize I am no longer afraid of falling. By mid-September I am down to 203 pounds. I’ve lost 40. I still have 35 more to go, and now Mika is upping the ante. She is redefining the challenge and telling me I should lose a total of 100 pounds! I might just do it
.

Meanwhile, I have been reminded that weight is about a lot more than dress size and how I look. My weight was stealing my life from me, piece by piece. Refocusing on health, instead of size and looks, has helped me recognize that I have to make a commitment for the long haul. That’s the only way
.

Dieting does not work. I know, you’ve read that before, but it’s really true. I should know, because that’s what I’ve done all my life. I dieted my way up to weighing 256 pounds. No more. This time I am remaking my life
.

M
Y STORY
,
WITH
J
OE
S
CARBOROUGH
, D
R
. M
ARGO
M
AINE
,

D
R
. D
AVID
K
ATZ
, C
HRIS
L
ICHT
, G
INA
B
ARRECA
,

K
ATHLEEN
T
URNER
, G
AYLE
K
ING
, K
ATE
W
HITE
,

J
ENNIFER
H
UDSON
, S
USIE
E
SSMAN

T
o the outside world, Diane and I look as if we think entirely differently about food. I’m the one with the reputation as a thin, fit woman, the one always going on and on about the obesity epidemic; Diane’s struggles are a lot more obvious than mine. But as our stories have revealed, we are in many ways the same. When Diane talks about visiting a twenty-four-hour supermarket after finishing the late-night shift at the news desk and buying cookies, M&Ms, chips, and ice cream to eat later that night, I’m nodding. I’ve done that, too.

I am still trying to find the discipline my mother valued so much. My body is healthier, but my head? Well, I am still working on that. At times I remain trapped in my thoughts of eating, and Diane does, too. Until we can spring that trap for good, there are going to be setbacks in our attempts to develop a wholesome relationship with food. That’s why it is so important
not just to follow the stringent rules of a diet, but to make more fundamental changes in how you live—to change how you think, to overhaul what you eat and how you eat it, and to become physically active. We’ll talk about all that in the next few chapters.

I am in awe of successful women who manage to be free of the tyranny of food. The ones who connect with everyone in a room, while I’m busy thinking about how I can connect with another platter of food. I go to parties and see successful women like Arianna Huffington or Sheryl Sandberg or the late Nora Ephron, and they look so comfortable with themselves, so in command of the room. Meanwhile, I’m wondering how I can get another appetizer brought over to me.

There I am, in conversation with Walter Isaacson or Colin Powell, but my mind is so focused on those appetizers that I barely hear what they’re saying. Instead I find myself wondering,
Where is that waiter with the mini hot dogs?
My eyes are on Powell and I am nodding with fervent interest, but with my peripheral vision I’m looking for the waiter, and with my brain I’m wondering when he might show up. I keep on discussing the conflict in Syria as best I can, but by now I’m thinking that I might just walk back into the kitchen and get those damn mini hot dogs myself! Then my frustration turns to sadness, because I catch Arianna across the room. She also appears to be having a fascinating conversation, but I bet she is right there with her companion, not privately plotting a trip into the kitchen.

Whether it is the sensory pull of those mini hot dogs or full-blown addiction, my thoughts can be totally distracting. That’s less likely to happen when I have had at least a modicum of sleep and am working a fairly predictable schedule. The pull is not as strong then, and I don’t overeat. If I get enough rest, I usually have enough stamina to keep my eating under control. Believe me, it takes a lot of mental effort.

“Mika’s told the story about how she was fired from CBS on her thirty-ninth birthday. She thought that was the end of her career,” says Joe Scarborough. “She scratched and clawed her way back into the game, and then she decided she was going to take her health and her fitness and her body image to a whole new level. It was extraordinary watching her day in and day out sacrificing and suffering.”

I’m not as able to maintain that sacrifice when exhaustion sets in, and that happens a lot in a day that begins with a 3:30 a.m. wakeup call. My demons come back to bite me, and I’m more likely to compensate for my rigid low-calorie diet by suddenly and swiftly scarfing down huge portions of food. Margo Maine says part of my problem is that when I’m exhausted I may actually need to eat more. My body is demanding more calories, she says, because “that’s what our bodies need at those times. Our bodies go into these kind of emergency states, and we need to let that happen.”

As I learn to accept that, it becomes easier for me to ease up a bit and eat a little bit more fat, a few more carbs, a little more of the fuel I need to keep myself going. In the past, my approach has been to resist and resist that call, and then to suddenly break down and grab every morsel in sight.

I am trying to think about the world more like Margo does.
“I believe that our bodies are gifts we have to take good care of,” she says. “That means feeding them, not just restricting and being careful, but feeding and allowing them to enjoy life. Part of enjoying life is enjoying food to some extent.”

More than a year after our infamous conversation on Long Island Sound, Diane and I are more convinced than ever that sharing our stories and providing support to one another are huge steps toward changing the way we think about weight and food. They have certainly brought us closer to each other. “We need to be able to have that dialogue, but the first thing we need to do is lay down the burden of blame and shame,” said obesity expert Dr. David Katz. “Until we do that, we as a nation are stuck at this impasse on obesity.”

The first thing we need to do is lay down the burden of blame and shame.—
David Katz

Katz knows it is not easy to be candid, but he insists it is crucial. “It’s a good friend who will have that painful conversation with you, it really is. We need other people’s support and their skill sets in helping us.” That’s why I’ve made such a point of talking about obesity during
Morning Joe
, although our executive producer Chris Licht was horrified when I first started doing it. “I was afraid it was going to turn people off because no one wants to get lectured about their weight by someone who’s in such great shape,” admits Chris. “But Mika has earned that right. She works hard to be in shape and wants people to be healthier.”

Those of us who can reach an audience, whether on television, in the classroom, or simply at the dinner table, have an obligation to talk straight to people who will listen to us. We shouldn’t be hiding from our own struggles, or denying the struggles of the people around us. Raising the issue of weight and insisting we deal with it together is an important contribution to changing our approach. That’s why Gina Barreca, a professor of feminist theory at the University of Connecticut, starts her speeches by announcing her age and weight. “This way, the listeners don’t have to sit there and try to do the math. Because we all know that women will look at a speaker wondering, ‘Is she older or younger than I am?’ and ‘What’s her dress size?’ Until they can figure these things out to their satisfaction, they aren’t entirely paying attention.