Snake Oil

Until recently, I never even considered the possibility of going on, let alone following, a strict diet. When I "retired" from (semi) competitive cycling in 1990, I tipped the scales at 145 pounds, six pounds heavier than I had been the previous year. My weight fluctuated over the next decade, but I rarely broke 160. When Traci and I were married in 2000, I was under 150 pounds.

Cynics may dismiss newlywed weight gain as the chimerical invention of a superficial dieting establishment, but I gained 40 pounds. I hit my mid 30s, and they hit back. Hard.

Truth be told, I was quite sedentary, and I'm quite positive that our fondness of eating at some of Carnegie's home grown dining establishment only added to the problem. I periodically weighed myself, and watched with a sense of strangely passive horror as gravity and our savagely honest bathroom scale took over: 169 . . . 173 . . . 185.

I topped (or bottomed) out at 188. Most casual observers wouldn't say that I was overweight at all, and they were often stunned when I revealed my true displacement. As luck and genetics would have it, I'm relatively tall, and I was spared the ignominy of developing the quintessentially male "badge" of obesity, the beer gut. I was however growing soft around the middle, but like the clichéd victims of the soul-sucking demonic house, I seemed powerless to alter my fate, even as dark and twisted voices cried "get out." My fondness for the Buffalo wings at Red Hots only added to my slide into slothfulness. Mmm . . . Buffalo Wings . . .

Several factors combined to jolt me out of my complacency. A former student blurted out "You've put on weight!" I noticed that I no longer had much energy. The worst of my symptoms however came in the form of 30 consecutive nights of heart burn. My father suffers from acid reflux, and I cringed at the thought that, at 34, I was facing a lifetime of blistering acid attacks, medical treatments of almost medieval cruelty, and purple pills.

So I acted. I bought a new bike, to augment my 17 year old Panasonic and ensure that I would have reason to ride. I bought a plethora of cycling training books, and scoured the nutrition sections for any semblance of a reasonable diet. Most importantly, I altered my diet, and began riding the bikes!

The "cyclist's" diet recommended in the books generally seemed reasonable: generally 50-60% carbohydrates, 20-30% fat, and 15-20% protein. I didn't measure my food religiously, but I tried to take in a mixture of carbs and protein within 30 minute of each ride, and I generally cut down on my portions.

The "Fred Jordan weight loss plan" commenced in late February, 2002. Like most dieters, my weight loss was often sporadic, even with the same conditions, but the pounds slowly dropped away, and by September, I tipped the scales at a healthy 173. I was still 34 pounds heavier than my 21 year-old, big ring climbing incarnation, but I was now within my recommended BMI for the first time in 2 years. The acid reflux vanished almost as soon as I began the exercise, and my energy returned in droves.

Now that I was no longer a candidate for esophageal ulcers, I decided to shift my focus on losing weight as a means of improving my lackluster performances in the local circuit races. I could still hold my own on a long, gradual climb, but there was little doubt that the extra 30 of so pounds around my waist did little to bolster my climbing acumen. The trick would be losing weight as efficiently as possible without draining my energy or eroding my muscles.

Entering the Zone
By September, 2003, I was down to 165 pounds, but I was still a contestant for the "lantern rouge" in most of the ACA races. The lingering question was "how to lose weight, but no strength?" A quick search for athletic diets revealed a number of links to "The Zone," a weight loss program touted for its ability to stabilize blood glucose levels, promote healthy fat burning, and improve athletic performance. I had heard of several local cyclists following the zone, so I was somewhat intrigued. I was also skeptical, but I couldn't let my cynicism prevent me from investigating what might be a potentially useful means of shedding fat without compromising strength.

Barry Sears, creator of "The Zone," has an impressive nutritional resume, including a Nobel prize for his work on studying insulin levels. "The Zone" resembles the Atkin's Siet, in that it emphasizes a relatively low carbohydrate diet. More specifically, "The Zone" diet emphasizes unrefined carbs (40%), "good" fats (30%) and protein (30%). It differs by allowing the dieter to take in more carbohydrates, which is critical for an endurance athlete.

Armed with this cursory information, Traci and I ventured forth to the local Barnes and Noble. I planned on picking up a "Zone" guide of some nature, as my preliminary research indicated that the diet was quite complicated. At the very least, I needed some small, inexpensive text to serve as my passport into "The Zone."

Escaping from "The Zone"
What I saw were two thick, hardbound texts and a paperback or two, all emblazoned with Sears' name. The thought of shelling out $25 per book on my adjunct instructor's pay made me hesitate (I would later jokingly tell my students that diet plans have the effect of rendering food unaffordable, thus ensuring weight loss").

The sticker shock paled in comparison with my reaction to the bold statements on the dust jacket itself: "Promotes weight loss" (obviously important); "Reset your genetic code" (uh-oh. Well, maybe this isn't so bad. Can it cure my retreating hairline and my myopia?); "Prevent disease" (Is this a diet or is it chemotherapy?). My curiosity was quickly replaced with a dose of skepticism, but I was determined to see what Sear himself had to say. The investigation quickly fueled my doubts. Sears cited case studies, but my (albeit limited) scientific background led me to conclude that there was something amiss with the hundreds of pages of pseudo-scientific graphs, charts and suggestion. Sears seemed entirely too sure of himself, dismissing anyone who didn't buy into his ideas as a hidebound dupe of the status quo. Sport nutritionists were throwbacks to the nutritional stone ages, and accepted scientific means of measurement were ludicrous means of assuring that alternative "voices" are silenced. "The Zone" was a mystical place of contentment, happiness and dietary excellence, and mainstream scientists were too caught up in their own power to recognize this. This wasn't a diet plan, it was a manifesto.

I put the book down, thoroughly disenchanted. As I slid the tome back onto the shelf, the sales pitch on one of the paperbacks caught me eye: "The hottest celebrity diet in Hollywood." The camel's back broke.

My trainer now occupies a prominent place in the living room, leaving me with no excuses on account of this season's dismal weather. I'll let you know how the "turbo trainer" diet goes in a couple of months.

Selling "The Zone": a Rhetorical Analysis
"The Zone" is the diet plan Dr. Barry Sears advances in the best selling works Enter the Zone and Mastering the Zone: The Next Step in Achieving Super Health and Permanent Fat Loss. Naturally, Sears has also produced a number of products to assist those who seek to embrace "The Zone."

My scientific knowledge is limited to a number of college level classes from my years at Nazareth College in the late 80s. A number of more more informed writers have posted critiques of "The Zone's" nutritional science. I will limit my discussion to Sears' rhetorical strategies, a task more suited to my own background in literature.

The Claims:
Sears claims that "The Zone" will enable you to
"Avoid the Dangers of Bad Carbohydrates"
"Balance Your Hormone and Insulin Levels"
"Lose Weight Permanently"
"Reset Your Genetic Code"
"Prevent Disease"
"Achieve Maximum Physical Performance"
"Enhance Mental Productivity"

Ironically, had Sears merely touted the plan as a means of losing weight while maintaining physical strength, I might have seriously considered purchasing one of the book. Given the success of low carb diets, and millions of copies of "The Zone" in print, it would seem that many don not share my reticence.

Sears' claims ultimately tap into the conflicted world of consumer ideology. This is hardly surprising, as the contemporary American cult of consumption has attained quasi-religious overtones: "Buy this product, and change your life." If Rogaine can catapult a man into upper management by enhancing his self-confidence (by allowing him to conform to socially accepted ideals of male attractiveness), then imagine what a total weight loss program can do for you!

This is in fact one of the primary marketing techniques diet mongers employ to pitch their "revolutionary" diet plans to the masses. "The Zone" comes across as an almost mythical place, where a perpetual sense of balance, well being and energy reigns supreme. There is little room for a prosaic message, such as "lose weight so you won't die." Sears' claims that if you follow this plan, you will become a healthier, happier and more productive individual. It's interesting to note the choice of terms here, as "productive" has a decidedly corporate slant– "Buy into this lifestyle, and you'll be able to screw over your coworkers in a matter of moths with your enhanced mental productivity."

The use of the panacea is hardly new. Unscrupulous marketeers hawked universal remedies in 19th century newspaper ads set in fanciful type and boasting of cures for "cancer, goiter, tuberculosis and sundry ailments." The "remedies" usually consisted of mysterious and often dubious ingredients, but the public's willingness to believe (and possibly the placebo effect) meant that this could be a lucrative trade.

"The Zone" is marketed in a more sophisticated fashion, but many of the claims are ultimately questionable, at best. However, there is little doubt that an audience would find these claims appealing, particularly when you juxtapose the seemingly contradictory messages concerning weight, nutrition and beauty. Most Americans are aware of the skyrocketing rates of obesity and overweight, and they are generally aware of the consequences. Yet the airwaves are permeated with discourses of free choice, hyper-consumption and 5'11", 120 pound models pitching the latest fad diet.

Given these conflicting and discordant messages, it is no wonder that so many people are willing to buy into a strictly regimented lifestyle that promises some form of salvation, no matter how ill-defined. Throw in a single scapegoat in the form of carbohydrates and a healthy dose of pseudo-science, and the stage is set for the creation for a diet "revolution."

The "revolution" largely rejects most popular scientific knowledge on dieting, but this is an important appeal. A consumer might reason that "I've cut out most of the fat in my diet and eaten more breads, as the food pyramid recommends, yet I've gained enough weight to alter gravitational fields in my proximity." This line of reasoning establishes a causal relationship between the FDA's war on fat in the 80s and 90s and the dramatic rise of obesity over the last couple of decades. Sears is quick to exploit this event by playing off of our love for fatty foods while shifting responsibility away from the food industry, free market excesses and individual consumption, on to poor nutritional advice from the government.

Out ever burgeoning waistlines are due largely to two factors: 1. we're more sedentary, and 2. we're eating more food. There is certainly a genetic component to out increased tonnage, but this alone can't explain the rapid increase of weight after 1980, particularly given the stability we saw in previous decades. Rather than focusing on environmental changes, individual behavior or aggressive marketing, Sears plays it safe and opts to attack a food group (rule number 1 of marketing: don't piss off your customers. Rule number 2: don't piss off large corporations with lots of lawyers). Sears offers a solution that really won't threaten the status quo—I don't believe that he suggests restrictions on marketing, banning vending machines from schools or other aggressive measures that treat obesity as a systemic problem.

Rather, he provides individual solutions that flout commonly accepted scientific knowledge, he plays off our open hostility toward intellectualism by eschewing standard tests and ridicualing those who question his techniques, and he employs anecdotal evidence in the form of case studies to support his conclusions.

My initial attraction to "The Zone" came from its much ballyhooed claims of increased athletic performance, coupled with healthy weight loss and increased fat burning. Once I rejected the diet's claims as fanciful, I conducted some research (I admit that my initial investigation wasn't thorough enough. This is quite evident, given the fact that I was standing in the book aisle reading the dust jacket in the first place.

What do scientists and nutritionists have to say about "The Zone" and athletic performance? I've collected a series of quotes and links below:

Many of the promised benefits of the Zone are based on selective information regarding hormonal influences on eicosanoid biology. Contradictory information is conveniently left out. The principle of vasodilating muscle arterioles by altering eicosanoid production is notably correct in theory. However, what little human evidence is available does not support any significant contribution of eicosanoids to active muscle vasodilation. In fact, the key eicosanoid reportedly produced in the Zone and responsible for improved muscle oxygenation is not found in skeletal muscle. Based on the best available scientific evidence, the Zone diet should be considered more ergolytic than ergogenic to performance."
http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov:80/entrez/query.fcgi?CMD=Display&DB=PubMed

A UK-based research team decided to test the authors’ claim that the zone diet would increase time to exhaustion during endurance events. Eight male volunteers followed either a normal diet or the zone diet for seven days. They were subjected to a battery of tests before and after the dietary period, including assessment of body composition, maximum oxygen uptake and time to exhaustion. The results showed that time to exhaustion during an 80% VO2max time trial fell by almost four minutes for the subjects following the zone diet. The researchers also noted a trend towards decreased VO2max, which would have significant implications for training and subsequent performance in endurance events. The long and short of it is that the research team found none of the improvements claimed by the authors of the zone diet and concluded that athletes would be well advised to steer clear of this diet if they were serious about their training and future performance in competitive events.
http://www.pponline.co.uk/encyc/0977.htm

Contrary to what Enter the Zone claims, eating a high carbohydrate meal one to four hours before exercise improves performance by "topping off" your glycogen stores. Consuming carbohydrate during workouts lasting longer than an hour aids endurance by providing glucose for your muscles to use when they're running out of glycogen. And, taking in carbohydrate right after hard training increases muscle glycogen storage and helps improve your recovery time.
http://www.cruciblefitness.com/nutrition/etips/ZoneandWeightLoss.htm

There is no direct explanation for the athlete who doesn't want to lose any more body fat. Clearly, lean athletes need to be in energy balance by eating far more calories than the Zone book allows for. There are some suggestions in the Zone book that these athletes should make up extra fuel needs by eating more mono-unsaturated fat. However, an athlete who does this will no longer be eating a 40:30:30 dietary mix, and the book is light on practical advice on how to organise such an eating plan.
http://www.ais.org.au/nutrition/FactZone.htm

Parting Thoughts
Bear in mind that it's possible to lose weight by using "The Zone," although it's most likely that this is due to the hypo-caloric nature of the diet. I approached the literature with the aim of losing weight for improved athletic performance, rather than health-related weight loss. Nevertheless, there is a considerable body of evidence suggesting that "The Zone's" claims are, at best, questionable.

Addendum, 12/17/2003
There has been a great deal of talk recently about the ever growing number of anorexic cyclists, and I feel that I should clarify some of my initial statements. My effort to lose weight does in fact revolve around cycling performance, but I simply can't endorse any diet plans, coaches or other forces that encourage riders to purge, lose weight rapidly or drop below commonly accepted standards for healthy weight and body fat. Properly done, weight loss should focus on eliminating reasonable amounts of body fat, but the dieter should realize that any healthy diet should involve no more than 1-2 pounds per week (some even limit this to 1/2 a pound). I don't plan on dropping below 150 pounds, which is still well within the recommended bmi for a person of my height and build.

Keep in mind that I'm neither "hard core" about my weight loss, nor am I an expert. My own dieting technique seems effective, but slow. It relies heavily on increased physical activity, with healthy portions of food (probably between 2,000-2,500 calories a day, with more, if the week involves long or intense rides). My goal is to shed 2-3 pounds per month so I can be in good racing trim in 2004, but not at the expense of my long term health or tasty food . . . mmm . . . Buffalo wings.