EVERY time I go out, I’m horrified by the number of people I see who are vastly overweight; people almost disabled by their size.
Two thirds of UK adults are overweight or obese, and this month, NHS figures revealed that record numbers of patients are being admitted to hospital due to their obesity: In England alone there are 2,400 admissions a day.
There was nothing like this level when I started in medicine in the 1970s, but back then we hadn’t had the infiltration of refined carbohydrates – such as biscuits, cakes and confectionery – into our diets, nor the prevalence of fast food. And we hadn’t embraced a snacking culture and less active lifestyles.
Now, Boris Johnson has announced what he believes to be the answer to this crisis: GPs will become weight coaches, sweets will be banned at shop checkouts, the number of calories in food and drink will be shown on menus. Will it go far enough?
I’m not convinced. After all, how can it be that so many vastly overweight people who endlessly hear the preaching about the dangers of obesity – which we now know is a major risk factor for hospitalisation and death from Covid-19 – have not spent the past four months on weight-loss plans?
Too many are lost in the tidal wave of information (and misinformation) about what constitutes healthy eating and so, even when terrified about the threat of Covid, they are like rabbits trapped in headlights.
My advice is to choose a diet and stick to it. If nothing else, accept the research on healthy eating patterns – avoid industrialised, aggressively marketed foods – and follow the Mediterranean diet (lots of fruits, vegetables, nuts and legumes, and moderate amounts of poultry, eggs, and dairy products).
Remember: comfort foods only give comfort to the companies that promote them, not to you.
© Solo dmg media
