Adaptation is defined as a change or changes by which an organism becomes better suited to it’s environment. Camels possess a number of nifty traits, such as their famous humps, which enable them to make it in the desert without water for seven months. The human body has more fat cells than a polar bear - an adaptation that allows us to survive and even flourish in a variety of environments where food might be scarce or abundant.  For millions of years humans survived cyclical periods of feast and famine without the benefit of refrigeration or canning for long term food storage.

Our brains depend on an uninterrupted supply of oxygen and fuel.  We have no mechanism for storing oxygen, if we stop breathing we die within minutes. On the other hand we are able to convert intermittent feedings into fuel that can either be used right away or stored for short or long term access.  Because we require fuel even when food is unavailable, and the most efficient way to ensure a constant fuel supply is to pack on the pounds; we were brilliantly designed to USE weight - not to LOSE weight.

How did we (and our children) get so fat, so fast.  It seems like it has happened overnight.  Complicated theories and studies abound dissecting the possible causes of our "rapid expansion" but I believe it can be boiled,  eh… broiled, down to a single word. BACON. Bacon is everywhere these days. In fact I think we should petition Webster's dictionary to replace the word ubiquitous with bacon.  It is much easier to pronounce and spell and it means exactly the same thing - present, appearing, or found everywhere.

What if, as you are enjoying your delicious Chinese takeout, you open your fortune cookie, and it says...

“You will always be fat.”

Just writing these words make my heart palpitate; yet, for many teenage girls, this thought is their constant companion. It is said that males have a sexual thought every 52 seconds. Well, at least they get a break! Amidst real concerns about the rise in childhood obesity and its collateral health risks, there seems to be a new snake in the grass stalking our children—eating disorders. Most people seem to believe that relentless media pressure for thinness is to blame for this threat, but I think the real culprit is our failure to find workable strategies for everyday eating.

Although it may seem that the problem of childhood obesity has sprung up overnight, in reality, we should have seen it coming years ago. Much like hurricane warnings on television, we may have observed the brewing storms with casual interest, but until they affected us directly, we were not likely to take action. Many factors have played a role in the sudden jump in childhood obesity, but until they came together to create the perfect storm, we were just as unlikely to take action.

Of course, in any perfect storm there are always winds and currents that amplify the situation. But there are also discrete, smaller storms that combine to make a whole greater than the sum of its parts. In the case of overweight children, I believe three separate storms have joined forces to create this perfect storm: (1) abundant, available calories; (2) bored, sedentary children; and (3) moms who are stretched too thin  (figuratively). If we look closely, we can actually see these storms arose from faulty assumptions: that more nutrients mean more health, that learning takes place only through formal education, and that it is possible to multitask effectively.

If there is one thing human beings are good at, it’s adapting. In fact, we have a staggering ability to adapt to just about any environment. About 10,000 years ago we ate only what the earth offered us, which was limited to seasonal fruits and vegetables and whatever meat we could come by. Aside from occasional nuts or seeds we could pack away for emergencies, food was in short supply during the long, lean winter months. Unlike most animals, humans couldn’t digest grasses or leaves to keep us going. Yet, while we had lost the claws and fangs of other predators, we more than made up for them with our brains’ cunning and creativity. Those brains needed lots of fuel to function—in other words, food.

If we wanted to hunt meat rather than be meat, we needed to stay focused. Hunting a large animal took many hours and sometimes days. This required stealth and strategy, but above all, motivation. Even when our early ancestors were cold or tired or sick, their survival depended on their desire to seek and consume food. Today, though our survival no longer depends on those things, it is always right below the surface. Motivation is instinctive.

The human brain has two parts—the old and the new, which is also called the cortex. The old brain is primitive; it operates quickly and automatically. The new brain, on the other hand, is deliberate. It thinks, plans, and strategizes. It modifies impulsive behavior, if it has a compelling reason to do so. Without the influence of the cortex human beings would always act on instinct and respond automatically and predictably.