7 Things I Learned From Eating Like a Dude for a Week
Ever wonder if you could survive on nothing but meat and potatoes?
There, Styrofoam containers overflow with breaded chicken; napkins drip with grease from food-truck-bought burgers; empty potato chipped bags rustle. Nobody utters the words "cheat day," and everyone seems to be just as trim and in shape as they hope to be.
In stark contrast, the table I share with my fellow female colleagues is a collage of pre-packaged Paleo meals, miniscule Lean Cuisines and bags of salad. Maybe it's that we're just a little more health-conscious than the table next to us. Or maybe my female coworkers and I (and just about every woman I know) are actually gastronomically repressed. I wondered, what would it be like to give into every craving without remorse -- and not give any effs about calorie counts? To never have to shove down a salad while wistfully eyeing a plate of chicken wings?
To get a taste of what it's like to be Y-chromosomed (and as an excuse to eat with abandon) I decided to man up and eat like a dude for a week. Though I've never been a dieter, I spent a good part of my career writing about nutrition and fitness. I can tell you exactly how many calories are in a bag of popcorn or how much of an avocado constitutes a serving (one-fifth -- sad, right?). So when I indulge, I do it with eyes wide open. Eating like a guy would mean throwing all of that awareness out the window. It was at once an exhilarating and terrifying prospect.
I formulated my manly meal plan by rounding up the eating habits of my male friends, brothers and husband. Along the way, would I be making generalizations about the opposite sex's eating habits? Yes (as I was reminded by more than one clean-eating male -- I do live in L.A. after all). Would it still be an Everest-worthy challenge to pack thousands of calories onto my small frame? You bet. So unbutton your jeans in preparation for a gut-wrenching look at how the other half lives.
SEE NEXT PAGE: Day 1: A Fiesta in My Mouth