One of the problems we have when talking about diets is that most of the participants assume that people want to
lose weight. They don't. They want to
feel healthier and
lose body fat. I would quite happily be 150 kg if I were a towering slab of raw meat. That likely feels quite a bit better than being even a 130 kg jiggly lump of suet.
Never mind that in order to maintain that weight as a meatwall, I'd have to wolf down six whole fried chickens a day and knock down hardwood trees with bare-knuckle punches. Maintaining that weight as a fatblob is as easy as eating some candy and drinking a liter or two of soda pop in front of the TV.
As a result, the conversation is too often how to turn a 150kg fatty into a 100kg fatty, rather than turning a 150kg fatty into a 150kg liftbro, and then letting the adiposity problem take care of itself.
I don't have a problem with the number on my bathroom scale. My problem is that I don't have action-hero movie-star abs. And maybe also some fear of adiposity-correlated diseases, like diabetes or atherosclerosis.
I would rather rearrange my life in such a way that becoming more unhealthy is the thing that requires the constant upkeep of unyielding willpower, rather than the other way around. That's why diets fail. The biochemical feedback loops between gut and brain make it progressively more difficult to lose more fat and not replenish it at the very first opportunity--which is always, because western society is saturated with cheap, calorie-dense foods. The hard part shouldn't be keeping it up; it should be harder to go back. And that requires changing the brain, particularly in the limbic system. Calorie restriction is, to the primitive parts of the brain back behind the prefrontal cortex, a punishment to be avoided.
Perhaps exercise equipment that dispenses gratis cocaine whenever you break a previous personal workout record? What could go wrong?~