The Michigan Daily — michigandaily.com
the b-side
Thursday, November 12, 2015 — 3B
Joan Didion once said, “We
tell ourselves stories in order to
live.” I believe that, I repeat it to
myself often and I even reduced
the quote to an alternative
version that I find applicable to
my shortcomings — “Caro tells
herself lies in order to make up
for her missteps.” Last Monday,
I did just that as I promised
myself I’d embark on a weeklong
diet: the baby food diet. Inspired
by Rebecca Harrington, New
York
Magazine’s
designated
celebrity dieter, and drawn
to the possibility of having
something in common with
Reese
Witherspoon
and
Jennifer
Aniston
—
two
unconfirmed
advocates
and
survivors of the unbranded
program — I decided to give the
baby food diet a whirl.
After perusing Harrington’s
canon of past experiments, I
struggled to find one that struck
a balance between downright
obscure — I was particularly
horrified by Elizabeth Taylor’s
peanut butter and steak diet
— and seemingly doable. So, I
retreated to the never-ending
remainder of the worldwide
web and somehow came across
the most bizarre plan of them
all. Admittedly, I’ve replaced
baby food for applesauce in
countless recipes and have
shamelessly licked the lid of the
pull-top containers to sample it
untainted by additional flavors.
Prior to this attempted diet,
I genuinely found the fruity
flavors to exceed expectations,
but
steered
clear
of
the
vegetable varieties.
According
to
celebrity
diet
blogs,
the
unorthodox
regimen allots those absurd
enough to attempt adhering
to the plan (me) a maximum
of 14 containers of baby food
interspersed
throughout
the
day with one normal, ideally
well-balanced meal. I knew it’d
be a challenge, but I told myself
I could do it!
Preparation:
Monday
Mid-Monday
afternoon,
I
realized
the
essentiality
of
prep for this thing. Seeing as
my barren cupboards house
only teabags and Keurig cups,
I needed to rush-order a week’s
supply of baby food. I opted
for three bulk variety packs
promising an assortment of
fruit and vegetable purees. I
chose next-day delivery (spoiler
alert: packages didn’t arrive the
next day).
That night, I was fraught with
anxiety over the application of
this extreme regimen. I couldn’t
rationalize why I’d ordered
baby food earlier that day.
Sure, babies for the most part
inhabit ideal lifestyles — their
cuteness is constantly validated
and their to-do list only seldom
extends
performing
basic
bodily functions and cooing —
but did I really want to eat like
them?
Tuesday
Upon waking up, I tracked
my package of infant staples.
According
to
Amazon,
it
wasn’t
scheduled
to
arrive
until Wednesday. Excellent! I
intended to devote the next two
days to a slight-DIY baby food
diet, meaning I’d physically
shop for the food. Alas, both
Walgreens AND Victor’s did
not have baby food in stock, so
I surrendered to my adult-food
cravings and ordered sushi. I
later dubbed this Tuesday my
“prep day,” essentially meaning
my version of a nightcap was a
copious amount of fro-yo.
Wednesday
As soon as my iPhone lit
up with the automated text
message my apartment building
sends
whenever
a
package
arrives in your name, I was
uncharacteristically
excited
to begin my dabble in dieting.
Directly
after
my
morning
class, I headed to my building’s
leasing office to pick up the
dietary delivery.
“It’s kind of heavy!” said the
leasing office lady.
“I wonder what it is!” I
sheepishly exclaimed. I very
well knew what it was, I
just didn’t see “ingester of
baby food” an accurate first
impression to leave this woman
with.
As soon as I ascended to
the fourth floor, I tore the
box open, but all I found was
disappointment.
Online,
the
extensive product description
promised a variety of sweet
potato, corn, pea, apple and
banana
flavors,
yet
these
“variety
packs”
merely
contained banana, apple and
sweet potato flavors.
Since the plan allotted me 14
containers a day, I immediately
tried all three, only to find my
taste aversion to the sweet
potato puree. I was pretty
opposite-of-stoked about this
since
it
was
approximately
one-third of my food intake for
the next week. However, the
banana and apple flavors were
unexpectedly delicious.
After my two delicious and
sole containers, I met up with
a friend to study. I pretended to
read, but actually watched said
friend eat noodles as he scoffed
at my mention of my new diet.
For the remainder of the day,
I
was
uncharacteristically
un-hungry, likely due to the
combination of conceptualizing
a baby food-centric eating plan
and my impending evening
exam. Following the brutal
exam, I limped home and simply
passed out.
Thursday
Thursdays
are
my
early
class day with an 8 a.m.
lab, but not even this rude-
awakening hour could deter my
commitment to the diet. After
all, each container decorated
with photos of smiling babies
radiated positivity. Side note:
after further examining the
packaging,
aside
from
the
cherubic infants, the words
“made with the help of our tiny
taste testers” were printed.
Really? Do babies even have
taste buds? If so, was I stupid for
not knowing this? (I Googled it,
and yeah, they do).
My breakfast consisted of
three banana containers, but
afterwards I made a mental
note to chill with my banana
intake. I knew I’d really hate
myself in two days when I’d be
forced to consider ingesting a
sweet potato. Post-lab hunger
led me to my one “normal
meal,” for that day, a monstrous
breakfast
burrito.
For
the
following meals, I consumed my
remaining 11 containers of baby
food. I even had an adventurous
moment and decided to resolve
woes with the sweet potato.
After heavily salting, it wasn’t
half bad. I was proud for having
a successful diet day, yet irked
with my bedtime hunger.
Friday
After
my
morning
class,
two friends and I decided to
brunch at Afternoon Delight.
Unable to resist my acclaimed
brunching spot, I decided to
maximize the diet and stretch
the concept of “baby food” for
more nourishment and less self-
hatred for subjecting myself to
diet purgatory. I allowed myself
a daily intake of mushy foods
in tandem with baby food. I
justified my oatmeal order by
its identifiable mushiness.
I ate a few containers of baby
food later in the day, but Friday
eventually resulted in a diet
flop. (I came to The Michigan
Daily’s Editor in Chief election
night. I saw the pizza. I ate the
pizza.)
Saturday
Successful Saturday! After
two meals of baby food, I was
feeling
good
(but
hungry)
and ready for a healthy finale.
My parents were in town for
the game and treated me to a
dinner of French onion soup,
seared tuna and seaweed salad
at Weber’s hotel. The hotel was
even hosting a bar mitzvah just
begging to be crashed. Seeing
as approximately half my food
intake had probably knocked
me down a few years, I felt
juvenile and ready to jump up
and down on the dance floor.
I didn’t, solely out of mother’s
disdain.
Sunday
Surrender Sunday! I fully
realized
my
stupidity
for
attempting to swap two daily
meals for baby food and vowed
to focus on my health. Even
on
successful
days,
I
was
ravenously hungry. I silently
praised
Witherspoon
and
Aniston for their strong-willed
dieting habits as I scraped a
banana container.
That night, I ate seaweed
and sushi and felt alive for the
first time in a while — from the
food and the sweet freedom
of releasing myself from the
shackles and unsophisticated
palate fare of baby food.
Conclusion:
Though I couldn’t withstand
a week of ingesting baby food,
by spotlighting my diet and
questioning my food choices more
than usual, I actually learned a
fucking lot about myself! In most
respects, babies do indeed appear
to live the dream, but their food
is only tasty in small doses and
simply trash when overkilled.
After alternating between mush
and puree, I would only willingly
return to the infant stage if I had
both the sophisticated palate and
mastication mechanisms I do
now, paired with the cognitive
abilities to appreciate it all. I’ll
surely never be a diet-endorsing
celebrity, but after removing
myself from the day-to-day, I’m
content with my brunching,
Blank Slate visits and brother
lunch dates.
BABY FOOD
From Page 1B
“Caro tells
herself lies to
make up for her
missteps.”
L
ast week, The Wall
Street Journal published
an article with the head-
line “The Potential Cardiac
Dangers of Extreme Exercise,”
which
stopped
the
hearts
of every
athlete
read-
ing the
page. The
article
describes
findings
from a
British study presented to the
European Society of Cardiol-
ogy last August, which tested
169 veteran competitive endur-
ance athletes against a control
group of 171 relatively sed-
entary adults, both free from
cardiovascular risk factors, to
highlight how exercise benefits
(or harms) our hearts.
Indeed, their results supported
our “Let’s Move!” mentality: Com-
pared to sedentary adults, commit-
ted athletes who ran a maximum
of 35 miles a week had lower levels
of coronary artery calcium — the
plaque that blocks arteries — and
were less likely to suffer from
heart attacks and strokes.
But when athletes ran over 35
miles per week, something weird
happened. “Athletes who ran or
cycled beyond that threshold were
found to harbor higher levels of
coronary artery calcium than did
the control group,” the article said.
Basically, a dedicated runner who
logged 50 miles a week had the
same — or worse — heart health
than a couch potato.
Not so fast. There was another
factor tested in the study: the inten-
sity of exercise. Results found that
the slowest men and women had
significantly lower levels of plaque
than the sedentary group, which
is consistent with the American
Heart
Association’s
statement:
“Walking briskly can lower your
risk of high blood pressure, high
cholesterol and diabetes as much
as running.” Subjects who regular-
ly walked or jogged had healthier
hearts than those who didn’t. Ath-
letes who trained at higher inten-
sities, however, had more ominous
results. As women’s training speed
increased, their plaque levels rose;
still, they remained healthier than
the sedentary group.
But the men who exercised
the most at the highest intensi-
ties — think marathon studs like
2014 Boston Marathon Cham-
pion Meb Keflezighi — lit up with
red flags. Their levels of plaque,
results showed, were significant-
ly higher than sedentary men.
Why? Doctors cite “inflamma-
tion, changes in the structure of
the heart or an excess secretion
of certain proteins or hormones,”
as potential causes.
The findings are unsettling,
especially as a committed distance
runner with a family history of
heart problems. It makes me ques-
tion my own father’s cardiac inci-
dent, almost 30 years ago. A former
varsity cross country runner at
Albion College, my father had a
sudden heart attack at 26 years old.
He was young and physically fit,
fresh out of law school, filling up
his gas tank when it happened. He
drove himself to the closest hospi-
tal, hand clamped to his chest — he
said the pain was excruciating, but
he’d run enough painful races to
not be too alarmed.
His doctors blamed genetics
and diet: his mother had cardio-
vascular problems; he’d eaten too
many Big Macs. It was the early
’90s, the era of Jane Fonda fitness
tapes and jogging, athletes buoyed
by the running boom of the ’70s.
Getting too much exercise was
never a concern. Should they have
worried then?
Maybe now, instead of warn-
ing
against
over-exercising,
researchers
should
consider:
What makes endurance athletes
go the distances they do, if not for
health reasons?
School of Nursing Junior Alex
Fauer, President of the U-M Tri-
athlon Club, has completed the
holy grail of endurance competi-
tions — an Ironman Triathlon,
which begins with a 2.4-mile
swim, a 112-mile bike and finishes
with 26.2-mile run (i.e. marathon).
The races typically start at 7 a.m.
and pack up at midnight, leav-
ing participants 17 hours to finish
140.6 miles. It’s one of the longest,
most grueling physical tests on the
planet — one that even seasoned
marathoners are wary of, for its
brutal toll on the body.
I asked Fauer his opinion on
potential health risks of too much
exercise.
“The risk of fatigue from over-
training and overuse injuries are
already on athletes’ radars. So
where do we go from this?” Fauer
said. “Are these athletes safe? I
think before athletes are scared
and stop training, they should con-
sider their current health and talk
with physicians about monitoring
the possibility of illness.”
He continued, “Personally, I
think if an athlete has a passion
for long distance training, he
should embark on whatever jour-
ney that he feels he can achieve. I
used this philosophy to motivate
my training for my first Ironman
last August.”
What the study doesn’t show:
the cost of restricting passion. On
principle, I ignore people who tell
me what I love is unhealthy. In the
words of Jonathan Beverly, editor
in chief of Running Times Maga-
zine, “Whether or not running
extends your life is irrelevant. We
run not because it might make life
longer, but because it makes life
better — because we love how it
makes us feel. And because we love
it, we do it as much as our bodies
allow. Forget moderation.”
Do I think running a steady 50
miles per week makes me health-
ier than someone who jogs an
easy 20? No.
Am I a better person because
I run? Yes, absolutely. I feel more
alive, accomplished, sound in my
mind and body when I go far and
fast. And if something must take a
toll on my health, I want my vice to
be miles.
Middlebrook is a better person
than you. To find how you’re trash,
email hailharp@umich.edu.
HEALTH AND FITNESS COLUMN
Running the risk of
too much exercise
HAILEY
MIDDLEBROOK
RC faculty to read
original work at EQ
EVENT PREVIEW
By NATALIE ZAK
For The Daily
“Those
who
cannot
do,
teach.” Whoever is guilty of
construing
this
inaccurate
condescension
evidently
never
encountered
a
faculty
member of the
University’s
Residential
College.
The
talent
and experience
offered
by
members
of
the Residential
College faculty
often
goes
unnoticed by the large student
body that rests outside of its
doors.
Authors,
poets
and
artists all lie within the college,
and to small classes of lucky
students, they impart their
talent and wisdom. Among
these maestros of art are author
Robert James Russell, author
and poet Laura Kasischke and
Ken Mikolowski, a poet and
retired professor of 38 years —
all of whom will be performing
in the RC’s second annual
“Friday Night’s Alright for
Reading” this Friday.
Offering selections from their
past and present work, these
writers and other members of
the star-studded faculty will
perform their award-winning
poems and short stories. Russell
and
faculty
member
Laura
Thomas devised the event last
winter during Russell’s first
year working at the University
to
display
the
talent
and
dedication overflowing from
the RC.
Russell,
author
of
two
novellas and a collection of
short stories, is an avid traveler
who
addresses
multifarious
places and ideas. From settings
of eerie Japanese forests to the
19th century West, Russell’s
repertoire reflects his craftful
ability to explore subjects he is
not directly familiar with, but
can construct nonetheless.
“I like relationships; I like
space; I like landscape and I
really like writing about how
those things intersect; how
our relationships are formed
based on the space around us,
how it informs who we are …
how every place has its unique
stories and mythologies to tell
and how that makes us who we
are based on where we grew
up.”
Poetry for Kasischke, on
the other hand, reflects her
personal experiences. Though
she
incorporates
tales
of
treachery, mystery and murder
into
her
novels,
Kasischke
focuses on roots of a more
intimate nature in her poetry.
Gifted with the ability to
write both fiction and poetry,
she elaborated on the inverse
processes for writing both.
“I write poetry and I write
fiction and it’s two totally
different processes. When I
write fiction, it’s pretty much
discipline … When I write
poetry, it’s because I’ve had
an idea for a while and finally
found time to just be alone. I
can work on a novel for about
a half hour and then put it
away; it could take years but I
can handle that. With a poem,
nothing is going to interrupt it
or I’m not even going to try.”
However, after 38 years at
the University and a lifetime
of writing poetry, Mikolowski
has the most experience to
impart on young aspiring poets.
Though he kept his writing
and teaching separate during
his time at the University, his
abstract process for finding
ideas
and
meditating
on
them before expressing them
is reflected in his previous
student Kasischke’s process.
“I walk around and I try to
not ignore things. I try to pay
attention.
When
something
speaks to me, I listen. When
something
sounds
right,
I
listen, and I go home and
write it down. I try to convey
thoughts about my own life
and my own impending death.
Everybody hates talking about
that, but that’s what I try to
connect in my poetry, and I find
them pretty funny.”
A witness and partaker in
the artistic revolution that
occurred in Detroit in the
’60s and ’70s, Mikolowski is
aligned
with
contemporary
poets of that age including
Allen Ginsberg, Anne Waldman
and Alice Notley. As a reaction
to the insurgencies and riots
that occurred in the urban
center, the Artist’s Workshop,
a run down apartment space
dedicated to presenting art from
individuals around the city, and
Mikolowski’s Alternative Press
were formed.
Run out of their basement,
Mikolowski
and
his
wife
Ann published contemporary
poetry from artists around
Detroit on a printing press
run and kept by the couple.
To
this
day,
Mikolowski
finds himself channeling the
innovative spirit that existed in
reactionary Detroit by writing
unconventional poetry. In his
new collection “That That,” for
instance, the longest poem is a
mere three lines long.
One common theme remains
between
these
acclaimed
writers: Michigan. Although it
may not have been the driving
influence for most of their
works, and could even exist
entirely separately of what they
write, these writers have had
the University as the backdrop
to their lives for as long as they
have been in Ann Arbor.
Though Russell, Kasischke
and Maslowski all admit the
themes
invoked
into
their
writing were kept separate
from
their
teaching,
they
are still inspired by the trial
and
errors
their
fledgling
writers endure in class. Being
exposed to the work of young
hopefuls
admittedly
pushes
Russell to strive to be a better
writer, and Kasischke, who
participates in free writes with
her students, immerses herself
in the experience. It was in this
classroom setting, in fact, that
she began her first full-length
novel.
Perhaps Mikolowski presents
the most curious intersection
of teaching and writing. Rather
than let the lines between his
University and writing life
overlap, he kept them distinctly
separate, and never let his
poetic success define what
writing meant for his students.
“I did not teach people how
to write. How to write poetry
is something I don’t even know,
how do you write poetry? I
taught them to want to write
poetry.”
To have acclaimed writers
and
poets
as
teachers
is
humanizing,
especially
in
a community of liberal arts
students all striving to one day
be recognized for a creative
work. Dreams do not appear
presumptuous or implausible
or
even
irrational
when
encouraged by individuals who
were once in the same exact
position of hoping, wishing and
wanting as a young adult.
Friday
Night’s
Alright for
Reading
Nov. 13 at
5:30 p.m.
Benzinger
Library, East
Quad
Free Admission
The talent and
experience of
RC faculty often
goes unnoticed.
“I taught them
to want to write
poetry.”