In a much-publicized storm of controversy, Michael Bloomberg, mayor of New York, declared a ban on enormous soft drinks. In September, the New York City Board of health approved it. The guidelines are that no restaurant can sell sugary drinks over 16 ounces.
You can argue your freedom to drink as much Mountain Dew as you want, and I’ve heard some pretty good arguments. But to be
honest, none of them have made me also want to drink more than 16 ounces of liquid sugar that looks more like pee than a soft drink.
I’m coming off high and mighty. I do indulge in crappy food and drink on occasion.
But I have a reason for it. It’s probably the same reason many other people eat fast food and sugary, processed foods. I miss it.
While I have made a commitment to my present and future selves to eat as well as I can, there’s always that former me whispering in my ear.
‘Just do it! Remember how delicious that Aero bar was last month? Don’t you want another one?’ It’s an evil, evil voice. And, like any distraught, waistline-watching person, I give in.
Here’s my theory: If I had never eaten an Aero bar, I wouldn’t miss it. If my parents had never taken me to McDonald’s when I was a kid – and they did so on so few occasions I can count them on one hand – I wouldn’t ever crave the fries.
I think there should be more hard-line bans like Bloomberg’s. The only reason there’s a market for junk food is because we like it. The only reason we like it is because we’ve been introduced to it from an early age. Chicken, meet egg.
If we never had it, we wouldn’t miss it. And when we do miss it – and have it – the results are disastrous. At least, for me they were. I finished up cross country running season last week. I had been eating as clean as my willpower allowed. Then, on the way back from championships in Halifax, we stopped at McDonald’s. I was a wild woman. I ordered a large fry and a McFlurry. With Oreos. Did I mention I’m intolerant to gluten? Afterwards, I felt satisfied. The next day, I felt awful.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not necessarily my waistline I was worried about – though vanity is certainly a huge part of my eating habits – it’s the invisible effects the treats had on my body that scared me. I don’t drink alcohol, but the day after the trip, I felt hungover. I remember this feeling too well, and here it was again. I was tired, I felt dehydrated, and I could barely concentrate. Just ask my fellow editors at The Aquinian; I was a stage five grump.
So I say cheers to Bloomberg for actually saying and putting into action what I’ve been pondering for years. It might make him unpopular, but hopefully a few kids will be weaned off sugary drinks and will live a few extra years. It’s worth a try.
