The Navy Diet
Finally — something new and exciting in the world of dieting. Relief from food obsession, and some gamified excitement thrown in.
In my previous post, I talked about the “House Diet,” which as been teaching me patience and endurance. Now I want to share another keystone that came to me in a flash. Is this the final piece of my weight loss journey? I’ll let you know, but I think so… It ticks all the boxes of human psychology.
You may have heard how dressing in a single-colored T-Shirt simplifies/-ed the lives of Mark Zuckerberg and the Steve Jobs. In my early 20’s I was considering a call to monastic life and worked in a grassroots domestic violence shelter where no one cared what I wore. My “uniform” was a dark blue overshirt with a dove of peace pin and black denim pants. I had a short-sleeved shirt for summer. That was it. Oh, the simplicity. Now that I work in a public-facing job where such simplicity would diminish my effectiveness, I realize the same principle of simplification will greatly assist me with food decisions.
Have you heard of the psychology study about pigeons or rats that had food available sometimes when they touched the food dispenser? They became obsessed with whether food might come out, and would hit that button to the exclusion of everything else, so compelling was it. I realize I have fallen into a similar pattern, where food is notionally available to me all the time (out of kindness and self-compassion, I tell myself, plus a super loosey-goosey schedule). So, I often break up the tedium of the day by going down to the food stores — Grocery Outlet is my fav — where I see if there is new and “necessary” food to purchase. I buy it and take it home. Once it’s home, I want to “clear my plate,” and eat it all. I keep waiting for some impulse of self-preservation to kick in. Not yet.
Now, I have made progress in the healthiness of the percentage of foods I acquire, and have a good notion, after much experimentation, of what a healthy breakfast, lunch, dinner, and two snacks look like for me. But I found myself thinking of food at all hours. This was an obsessive interruption that created no end of anxiety. Because, even though I didn’t want to eat healthfully from a feeling standpoint, I do from a values and rational perspective. What to do?
I was thinking again about my enthusiasm for the disciplined, structured, and even courageous life, and realized that desperate times call for desperate measures. Eleven years ago I went through Navy officer training in Newport. There is a specific structure to the dining hall experience. All officer candidates get their food and then wait, standing silently, until fellow members of the company (about 20 people) have gotten food. Then, in a unified manner, they sit and eat. Quickly. This wait-till-everyone-has-their-food rule allows all company members equal access to the 15 minutes of allotted chow time.
I realize I need more discipline and excitement in my life — crave it. Over the decades, restricting food choices has felt like deprivation, and I rebel against its echoes of enforced healthy eating from childhood, when it was accompanied by blame and shame from my mother. So, how to add structure and relieve this food obsession?
Here’s the new food schedule. It’s an old marketing trick to limit the availability of anything to make it seem more precious: “This special offer ends today!” That urgency correlates to excitement and focus. And clear lines of when food takes center stage, and when I can, blessedly, switch my focus back to what are, to me, much more satisfying and interesting pursuits.
Yes, if I have an event that pushes things off I can accommodate for that (bi-weekly yoga class pushes lunch off by half an hour). But I will not want to push off much more— at least not at the beginning. When/if COVID-world opens, I will feel more confident telling friends or conference-mates that I’ve already eaten than I will telling them, “Oh, I don’t eat that” — if it were only one choice of restriction or the other. The time strictness makes food strictness part of a package deal, and less triggering.
If I miss the meal window I can have watered-down fruit juice until the next food window (I have adrenal issues, so being able to keep blood sugar steady is key). Knowing that I have an abbreviated time to eat means I will more carefully plan each eating episode. And I’m inspired to, because “success” is clear and manageable. I get to succeed multiple times a day!
I can start prepping a few minutes early (most of my preferred meals take little preparation, though I might cook staples like brown rice ahead). That manufactured sense of urgency — “only half an hour!” — will make each meal seem more precious and discrete…Discrete in the mathematical sense — separated clearly from what comes before. So, “discrete mathematics” covers topics that are countable and distinct. Think whole numbers vs. fractions, the latter of which relate to the world of “continuous mathematics.”
Not thinking continually about food? Sounds good to me! I want to be a joyous lab rat sans food machine randomness, with time for other happy pursuits. As mentioned before, focusing only on limiting my food choices makes me feel like a loser, pushed to the margins and excluded from what everyone else is doing (even if unhealthily). Limiting my eating time makes me feel edgy, courageous, and strong. Even a little badass.
This plan may not be for everyone. I live alone and work from home. Thus, I have a great deal of say over when I eat (and this is why I need artificial eating boundaries, since family and a strict work environment won’t do it with/for me). I lean toward a warrior vibe. I am excited by how properly-deployed self-discipline leads to enhanced resilience and self-respect. Others without that leaning/experiences of the joy of disciplined conformity (as I experienced in the Navy) may not thrum to this proposal.
Gamification is a thing, though, and others are writing about and thriving in setting up various mini-quests. See Level Up Your Life, by Steve Kamb, the founder of Nerd Fitness.
What do you do to create bright lines (I know that’s a type of eating/meal planning, named after this psychological need) where the possibilities and temptations of food are not ever-present?
Has someone else been talking or writing about time restriction as a key component of healthy eating? Let me know!
