America is fat. Two thirds of us are overweight, and it turns out our problem isn’t Big Gulps or Supersized McDonalds but rather the food pyramid. It took the USDA years of planning and $2.4 million to solve this weighty issue, but last week they finally released a new pyramid for the 21st century.
Actually, it’s really just a triangle with six rainbow colored bands flowing down from its tip and a little stick man running up the side to symbolize physical activity. I feel thinner already. The “freshman 15” hit me particularly hard, and I desperately scanned the new pyramid for guidance. Nothing.
The new system is entirely online; the pyramid itself is just a gimmick, with five colored bands representing the grains, vegetables, fruits, milk and meat and beans. There are no clarifications as to what foods fit in these categories and no daily serving amounts. The dairy band is larger than the fruit and vegetable bands, rivaled only by grains; looks like the dairy farmers’ lobbyists got their Christmas bonuses. Instead of any tangible advice or guidelines, each category has its own catchy alliteration or rhyme. I may not know how much to eat, but I know to “vary my veggies,” “make half my grains whole” and “focus on fruits.” And if you don’t have a computer you’ll just have to live in obese ignorance.
The new program is personalized by age, sex and activity level. I entered what I considered to be Jane Hoya’s information: 20-years-old, female and 60 plus minutes of exercise a day. Eight ounces of grains a day? Only 6 ounces of protein? Atkins hit the student population pretty hard; I can’t imagine any girl at Georgetown actually eating their full allocation of carbs, nor can I see her curbing the amount of chicken breast or fat-free fro-yo she consumes. If some of America’s most health conscious won’t follow this advice, who will?
The web site does contain some helpful facts, like lists of calcium-rich foods (who knew that a can of sardines is worth more than two glasses of milk?). It also has suggestions of how to get your daily half-hour of exercise via brisk walking, dancing, light cleaning or yard work. The companion site, mypyramidtracker.gov, allows you to log a food diary of everything you eat and all of your physical activity for up to one year.
After about three hours, I wasn’t even halfway through the site. Most of the information is either esoteric or common sense, and anyone willing to sift through it all is either a food columnist or anorexic.
It essentially advocates balance (with the occasional milk and cheese binge), and Americans don’t want balance. We want all-you-can-eat bacon and cookies, just without the fat. Most people know how to be healthy, but Subway foot-longs and Domino’s distract them along the way. The old pyramid worked; we just chose not to follow it. As fun as it is to “go lean with protein,” chances are that no one will follow this one either.
