The Traveler's Diet: Eating Right and Staying Fit on the Road
Chapter 1- Diet Another DayThe last time I weighed what I was supposed to weigh was in1969. I remember it well. It was New Year’s Eve, and thatwas the night I gave up smoking.Three days later, I was in Israel, on the border with Syria,covering a continuing border war. We were in foxholes, andsomeone had launched mortars toward the Israeli positions. Asthe explosions came way too close for comfort, the other journalistswith me were convinced we were going to die.Suddenly, behind me, two Israeli soldiers appeared, and werehanding out disgusting French cigarettes.Two of the other journalists,guys who had never smoked, accepted them and lit up.When the soldiers got to me, I attempted to decline politely,saying I was “trying to quit.” The war seemed to stop for aboutfifteen seconds while everyone looked at me incredulously, as ifto say, “You’re trying to quit? We’re all about to die anyway.Takethe cigarette!”I didn’t.We lived. And I haven’t had a cigarette since. OK, somuch for the good news.But from the morning of January 6, 1970, when I returnedhome, I was on Oreo patrol. Snack food. Junk food. You nameit, I went for it. And it showed. If it’s true that you are whatyou . . . overeat, then I was thepiepiper.I became obsessed with certain “foods.” I had an obscene relationshipwith Diet Pepsi, drinking up to twenty cans a day. Ifound a candy connection online, in McKeesport, Pennsylvania,and ordered those red Swedish fish candies in bulk. I didn’t juststop there: Around my office you’d always find peanut M&M’s,Snickers, and Root Beer Barrels.In 1987, I went on a serious diet supervised by a doctor, andI lost 51 pounds. Then I started traveling forGood MorningAmericafor seven years, and the weight came right back—andthen some.Despite all good intentions, no matter what shape you’re in,or whatever your exercise program, travel is the great enemy.The minute you leave home, your routine takes an immediatevacation.And as more and more people travel, it’s becoming obviousthat obesity is no longer an American disease. It has becomea global pandemic. And as obesity rates soar, so hasdiabetes. In 1985, diabetes afflicted 30 million people worldwide.A little more than a decade later, that figure had escalatedto 135 million. The good news—one could argue—is that as youare reading this, about 100 million Americans are on a diet. Thebad news: Our lifestyles, coupled with our increased travelschedule, work against us winning the weight war.And it shows. I was never overweight as a kid. I didn’t eat alot of junk food in high school, but that’s when I discoveredLinden’s chocolate chip cookies in the cafeteria. By the time Ibecame an executive at Paramount, they were delivering chocolatechip cookies to the office.I love snacking. And snacks were everywhere. There werepotato chips and popcorn in the office, pretzels and peanuts onthe plane, chocolates waiting in my hotel room when I arrived.Let’s not talk about the minibar. And we haven’t even gotten tothe social breakfasts, lunches, and dinners that go along withthe job.I hate scales. Always have. My mother, the queen of the lessthan-subtle hint, gifted me each Christmas with a beautifullywrapped . . . scale. After the first year (this went on for morethan ten years), I stopped opening the “present.”Dostoyevsky once wrote that every man lies to himself. Atthe very least, we’re in serious denial when it comes to diet andexercise. I fooled myself into thinking that, given my lack of seriousfood vices—and all things being relative, my excess weightwas an acceptable trade-off.Apparently, I wasn’t alone. More than 30 percent of adults inAmerica are obese, and the number who are overweight hastripled in the last twenty years. We are addicted to junk food,and, worse, our national food supply is the number one source ofchronic disease.I fit perfectly into some pretty scary statistics, many relateddirectly to my travel schedule. A friend once told me that youshould never eat anything served to you out of a window unlessyou’re a seagull. And yet, the odds that an American will eat at afast-food restaurant on any given day are one in four.Well, I didbetter than that. Three out of four days, you could find me at anairport, or in a rental car on assignment on the road, pulling offthe highway long enough to get supersized. And on that fourth,fifth, sixth, and seventh day? I was eating out, at a hotel or arestaurant. Again, I was in trouble: That hotel or restaurant mealwas 170 percentlargerthan a meal prepared at home. Odds thata person will closely follow a diet are, again, one in four. Thatwas me as well (I was one of the other three). Then there werestatistics that were not even close to describing me: The amountthe average American spends annually on candy is $84. (I wasspending at least ten times that amount.)As the son of a doctor, and with my travel schedule, I get acheckup once every three months. The results, despite myweight, have never been cause for alarm. Blood pressure was alwaysa little high, and triglycerides and cholesterol were alwayshigh but not out of control. I hadn’t smoked in more than thirtyyears; I hardly drink alcohol. Don’t drink coffee.When I went to see Raymond Keller, a brilliant and talentedphysician, in March 2005, for another checkup, I thought thatonce again I could just breeze right through. He had always toldme to lose weight and limit my intake of sweets and junk food,and, of course, I never listened.But on this visit, the numbers started to catch up with me.My blood pressure was 145/95, and the cholesterol and triglyceridenumbers were frightening. Then it was time to stand onthe scale. I was more than a little embarrassed. I knew I weighedtoo much, but nothing prepared me for the number that confrontedme. I weighed in at a whopping 284 pounds.I thought: I can’t control the weather. I can’t control the politicalsituation, and I can’t control who’s driving on the freeways.But Icancontrol what I eat and how much I put in my mouth.I knew I had to do something about this, but where to start?Each week there are at least three new diet books published.I was confronted with a little bit of everything: Actually, I wasconfronted with more than I could digest (every pun intended).• 3-Hour Diet• 6-Day Body Makeover• Abs Diet• Atkins Diet• Blood Type Diet• Cabbage Soup Diet• Jenny Craig• Curves• Fat Flush Plan• Fit for Life• French Women’s Diet• Glycemic Index• Grapefruit Diet• Bob Greene• Hamptons Diet• LA Weight Loss• NutriSystem• Dr. Phil• Perricone Promise• Scarsdale Diet• Slim-Fast• South Beach Diet• Step Diet• Sugar Busters• WeightWatchers• The Zone DietThere was even an eat-all-the-bread-you-want-for-life diet!To challenge me more, I felt I had two strikes against me: nodiscipline and no guidance. And that was quickly counterbalancedby . . . shame.That night, I had dinner with my editor atMen’s Health,Stephen Perrine. I told him of my disappointing checkup andthat I was now motivated to lose weight. “But you travel morethan anyone else I know,” he said. “How can you possibly stickto a diet and exercise program?” The problem, of course, is thatso many of us travel, that on any given day even the most wellintentioneddiets are jettisoned, timetables and discipline evaporate. . . And therein was the genesis of this book. Could wedevelop a diet and exercise plan that worked not only at home,but on the road, given all the obstacles? It was worth a try.Like any good traveler, I needed a road map. First, Perrinemade me keep a food diary for a week. And when I was finishedwith it, it didn’t make for pretty reading.Without realizing it, I had become the poster child for theNabisco telethon—Chips Ahoy!, Fig Newtons, and the realkillers,Wheat Thins. Entire boxes would be consumed at a singlesitting . . .A typical seven days in my life from early 2005:MONDAY6 A.M. AwakeNo formal breakfastDiet PepsiThree chocolate chip cookies8 A.M. Two Red Delicious Apples8:30 A.M. Diet Pepsi10 A.M. Six pieces of cherry Swedish fish11 A.M. Another Diet Pepsi (keep in mind, I never finishone—just about three hits per can)12:30 P.M. Lunch: sushi4 P.M. Red Delicious Apple6 P.M. Popcorn8:30 P.M. Dinner: Thai food—beef, pork, chicken satay, meekrob (crispy sweet noodles)11 P.M. Red Delicious AppleAnd yes, a few more Swedish fishTUESDAYSame waking timeSame morning habitLunch: skirt steak and sautéed string beansSame afternoon habitBut no dinner. Instead, the red-eye to Chicago(On the plane, no meal—but generous helpings ofmixed nuts and, of course, Diet Pepsi)WEDNESDAY5:30 A.M. ArriveBagel and cream cheeseDiet Pepsi/CokeLunch: cheeseburger (no fries)No dessert4 P.M. Arrive at hotelHere’s where problems start. The hotel has sent upchocolate-covered strawberries, cheese, crackers, et al.,and they are devoured by yours truly.8 P.M. Dinner at hotel restaurant: rack of lamb, no dessertLate night: chocolate-covered peanuts (ugh) and, ofcourse, some Diet Pepsi...