A World of Cheese, For your Pleasure

In 1981, David Jenkins, a professor of nutrition at the University of Toronto, led a team that tested various foods to determine which were best for diabetics. They developed a "glycemic index" that ranked foods from 0 to 100, depending on how rapidly the body turned them into glucose. This work overturned some established bromides, such as the distinction between "simple" and "complex" carbohydrates: a baked russet potato, for example, traditionally defined as a complex carbohydrate, has a glycemic rating of 85 (±12; studies vary) whereas a 12-ounce can of Coca-Cola appears on some glycemic indices at 63.

Eating high-glycemic foods dumps large amounts of glucose suddenly into the bloodstream, triggering the pancreas to secrete insulin, the hormone that allows glucose to enter the body's cells for metabolism or storage. The pancreas over-responds to the spike in glucose—a more rapid rise than a hunter-gatherer's bloodstream was likely to encounter—and secretes lots of insulin. But while high-glycemic foods raise blood sugar quickly, "they also leave the gastrointestinal tract quickly," Ludwig explains. "The plug gets pulled." With so much insulin circulating, blood sugar plummets. This triggers a second wave of hormones, including stress hormones like epinephrine. "The body puts on the emergency brakes," says Ludwig. "It releases any stored fuels—the liver starts releasing glucose. This raises blood sugar back into the normal range, but at a cost to the body."

One cost, documented by studies at the School of Public Health, is that going through this kind of physiologic stress three to five times per day doubles the risk of heart attacks. Another cost is excess hunger. The precipitous drop in blood sugar triggers primal mechanisms in the brain: "The brain thinks the body is starving," Ludwig explains. "It doesn't care about the 30 pounds of fat socked away, so it sends you to the refrigerator to get a quick fix, like a can of soda."

Glycemic spikes may underlie Ludwig and Gortmaker's finding, published in the Lancet two years ago, that each additional daily serving of a sugar-sweetened beverage multiplies the risk of obesity by 1.6. Some argue that people compensate for such sugary intake by eating less later on, to balance it out, but Ludwig asserts, "We don't compensate well when calories come in liquid form. The meal has to go through your gut, where the brain gets satiety signals that slow you down. On the other hand, you could drink a 64-ounce soft drink before you knew what hit you."

The last paragraph in particular is where my problem is. That's not to say that I have a problem with weight, it's just that I don't think that I have the body I should have naturally, without the artificial EVERYTHING. (By the way, the next time someone complains something about something not being natural, like homosexuality or Internet social activity, point them to this article and ask them when was the last time they did ANYTHING natural, and how often they do these things. I don't think that people who can't even eat naturally are in any position to judge someone who they think fucks or relates to the world unnaturally.)

This article is quite long and covers a lot of ground. What I got out of it, though, was a reinforcement of the notion that eating less is a very good thing, unless the food (or is it "phood" these days?) is filles with water and air. There's a certain admirable strength to it that I, for one, seem to lack.

Just don't ask me to stop with the beer.