(Can’t see the video? Try refreshing the page. You can also cick here to watch it on YouTube or just read on — the post below says just about the same thing. Thanks!)

I’ll admit it, folks: I’m not much of a fluffer. I’ve never really been the type to pad what I write just to stretch your scroll bar a little bit further down the page.

I like to think I’ve always opted for concision — clarity and simplicity above all else. (Also, bacon.)

So: I want to say thanks.

Thank you. Seriously. For reading, writing, and engaging with me for the last two years, and for making this blog by far the coolest thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of growing.

I sincerely hope all of my work here has done some good. I hope it has proven useful, even. Mainly, though, I hope it has given you 150-odd reasons to smile. If the very first post on this blog is any indication, we have reason enough to keep on grinning. I’m happy to report, too, that all those reasons from way back when haven’t changed a bit.

Come Tuesday, May 1st, I’m moving my base of operations over to www.mattmadeiro.com. I’ll be launching a new blog there called Make Every Day Count. In it, I’ll explore a few simple questions: what does it mean to live well? And how do we even do it?

I have my fingers crossed that you’ll come along for the ride. If you check the site now, you’ll see a field where you can enter your email address to get notified of when the blog launches. I’m releasing an eBook on happiness next week that’ll be sent out free to all subscribers on that list, so feel free to sign up if you’d like to give it a read. (I’d recommend it. The book packages some fantastic illustrations from artists all over the world.)

I’ll see you next Tuesday, folks. And again: thank you. Thank you for making Three New Leaves something I can be proud of for every single day of my life. I’m grateful for every last one of you.

P.S.

P.P.S. If you missed the Big Damn Blitz of posts on 3NL this week, check them here:

• Everything I Know About Food
• Everything I Know About Fitness
• Everything I Know About Technology

Moments before writing this, I heard the familiar ping of a new email in my inbox. Two swipes and a click and I felt like bouncing through the roof — not because modern technology has made communication easier than ever before, but because the message itself offered some of the kindest words I’ve heard in weeks.

That about sums it up, I think. That’s technology in a nutshell: the good—the incredible—it can offer, sure, right in step with all of the not-so pleasant.

I won’t pretend this is an easy subject to cover. Far wrinklier brains than my own have given pretty compelling talks about it, but I think I do have one thing going for me: I grew up with this stuff. Technology, for as long as I can remember, has been plugged into my every waking minute, and I’ve grown to live with it—to rely on it—with all of the complications that brings.

So! Let’s talk about technology.

These won’t be the last words I’ll ever write on the subject, but they might be the most important. They serve a kind of end cap, too, for every word laid before — every worry and every word of praise about how technology continues to shape our lives.

These are the words, in other words, that I want to you to remember. I hope you enjoy them.

Let’s Take the Good…

Twitter brought me a graphic artist, a knitter of hats, and a fantastic backpack designer in the last month alone. It has also given me a chance to interact with people far quicker and closer than I could through email alone.

Email helped me spread the word about my next eBook, a collaborative project with at least a dozen people I’ve never met before in my life. They’re giving me art. I’m still kind of stunned.

Facebook keeps me tied to people I might not otherwise be able to keep in touch with. With a few keystrokes, I can maintain a conversation with someone I met on the opposite end of the globe.

iTunes/YouTube/Whatever has helped expose artists in every corner of the world. I can construct a playlist, now, of Japanese hip hop and swooning Spanish ballads, and I can plug any track imaginable into a radio that tracks down similar songs I might also like.

This blog has given me a platform. I’ve ranted, raved, and tried to spread as much happiness as possible, and I’ve received, in turn, lasting friendships and kind words—like the email that introduced this post—that I know I’ll never forget.

Technology offers a tremendous amount of good.

I’ve been jamming a lot of Nujabes recently. Seba Jun, by his real name, was a one-of-a-kind musician who I’ve never seen or met — but the Internet has a small pocket for his fans, all of whom, like me, are still struck by the tragedy of his recent death.

Think about that. I’m mourning a man I’ve never met by spinning his tracks on repeat.

We are all connected.

…with the Bad

One of the most popular articles on this site describes a problem I still struggle with today: distraction. I passed an entire car ride, once, with my eyes glued to my cell phone, too absorbed in Twitter to notice the red streaks in the sky above me.

The allure of the inbox grows stronger by the day. With the possibility of new messages just a click or two away, we lock ourselves into a vicious—and kind of useless—cycle of mindlessly refreshing our accounts every fifteen minutes.

People spend hours on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest and whatever social media network of their choosing, clicking listlessly through photos of their ex-lovers and giggling at funny cat pictures.

The television took root as an American mainstay. We’ve shifted our habits to match it. Your average office worker, at the end of a long day, will immediately plop down and spend their few free hours watching reality TV instead.

In a crowded restaurant, now, count how many people are absorbed in their cell phones. Count how many have their head visibly turned away from the people sitting right next to them, so focused as they are on the text messages—on distant conversations—filling up their screen.

Technology offers a tremendous amount of bad.

We are all distracted.

So How Do You Know Which is Which?

That’s a great question.

I think it’s a personal one, too. What do you want from technology? What do you want from this tool, in other words? I can’t answer that for you, but I can offer my own criteria — the Big Two, as I’ve taken to calling them, that help me decide in an instant if I’m using technology the right way. Here they are:

1. Technology shouldn’t waste our time.

2. Technology should accentuate the real world — not replace it.

Let’s tackle both in full.

1. Technology shouldn’t waste our time.

I bring up time, now, because it sits as a quiet—but important—thread under all this discussion.

Think about time, in fact, and you’ll realize something odd about technology: for every promise it makes about letting us do things better, faster, and smarter, only rarely has that proven true. If anything, we feel like we have less time than ever before.

Why is that? Why, when we can spread our voice all over the globe with a click of a button, do we feel more tired—more stressed—than ever?

The answer isn’t pretty. You might even call it uncomfortable.

For every capability it offers, technology tempts us with something else: distraction. We could keep writing our novel, or we could spend forty-five minutes scrolling through our Facebook news feed. We could reconnect with a long-forgotten friend, or we could spend thirty minutes scanning the front page at Reddit. We could take a long walk through the neighborhood, or we could watch an hour of mediocre TV.

We could do something—anything—important, or we could waste our time.

I want to stress, here, that this doesn’t fall back on machine error. Uncomfortable though it might be, the burden is on us to use these tools appropriately. No one is forcing you to do the social media dance, much like no one forces you to leverage social networks as an opportunity to meet as many cool people as possible.

It all comes back to time. How do you want to spend it? For me, at least, the answer sounds like this: “as wisely as possible.” You can still watch TV. You can still check Facebook on occasion. But pay attention, now, to how many minutes you sink into either one of these activities, and take a big step back if you discover you’re not comfortable with whatever that number turns out to be.

2. Technology should accentuate the real world — not replace it.

I look back, now, on every hour of video games I played during college. (Don’t ask me to count.)

That wasn’t wasted time. I enjoyed it, by and large, and shared great memories with friends whenever we played together. But I do wonder, now, what I missed out on — how many opportunities to meet and greet I might have had if I spent at least half of that video game time outside my apartment.

What if I had spent that time walking around campus? What if I had spent that time learning early on how to cook?

The questions don’t matter now. What does matter, however, is the recognition — the realization that given a choice between living in the real world, this incredible, colorful planet I’ve only barely begun to explore, and spending my days staring at a glowing screen, I know which one I’ll choose. The realization, in other words, that while technology offers incredible things, I’m not always comfortable with what I have to miss out on in order to enjoy them.

The point is this: technology lets us connect and collaborate (and entertain!) like never before, but at a cost. For the first time in history, in fact, I can keep up with the day-to-day operations of a friend anywhere in the world. For the first time in history, I can work with this person on something creative and fulfilling. For the first time in history, I can watch an entire movie in a device the size of my palm at any location imaginable. This is incredible. This is also ripe for abuse.

It’s a give and take. There’s nothing wrong with these virtual worlds, no, but there’s something alarming at how readily they take over the real one.

The problem, I think, is when these virtual connections start interfering with the flesh and blood ones. The problem, I think, is when you see that awkward couple out on the first date — the goofy smiles, the hesitant conversation, the freaking cell phones out on the table and the willingness both of them have to stop all conversation and sit in strange quiet while they text.

The problem is when we apologize to our friends as we crane our neck down to reply to a message.

The problem is when we prioritize these little snippets of conversation instead of the living, breathing creature standing right in front of us.

The problem is when we’d rather play an iPhone game than actually interact with the people around us.

Again: technology lets us do incredible things. We should enjoy this. But we shouldn’t do it at the expense of the here and now — the world all around us that is every bit as interesting and complex as the one we hold in the palm of our hand.

It Always Comes Back to Balance

Technology is a tool.

And how we choose to use it, as ever, can make all the difference in the world.

So there’s the final verdict, then: technology is how you use it.

If it helps you connect, work on new projects, or better discover the sights and sounds of modern life, then I’d say it’s an incredible tool to have at your disposal.

If it distracts you, wastes your time, and becomes an easy out to avoid interacting with the world around you, then I’d say it’s an open invitation to take a good, long look at how you’re currently operating.

But don’t get me wrong — I’m still going to watch TV sometimes. I’m still going to play a video game (hello, Guild Wars 2!) when the mood hits me. And I’m still going to scroll through my Twitter feed, sometimes, before I snap out of it and get back to work.

You don’t have to quit cold turkey. You don’t have to stop watching American Idol.

You do, however, need to start thinking about what you’re doing. You need to study your habits over the course of a week and ask yourself, now, if technology is helping or distracting you. If it’s the latter, start tweaking. Watch a little less TV. Force yourself to avoid Facebook. In the evening, spend more time cooking, laughing, and talking so you have less time to plop down in front of the screen.

You need balance. And you need to remember, now, these two ideas below:

1. Technology shouldn’t waste our time.

2. Technology should accentuate the real world — not replace it.

I’ll be honest: this isn’t easy. But it’s a way of life worth living, I think, as we grow more and more tech-dependent with each passing year.

Start small. Take an hour you’d normally spend on TV and spend it walking/cooking/talking/building instead. Do this for a week straight and see how much you can accomplish.

Imagine doing this for a month.

Imagine doing this for a year.

And imagine, lastly, what words you want on your lips come the end of your long, happy life:

“I’m glad I watched so much TV.”

“I’m glad I spent so much time with my family and my friends.”

You decide.

I remember spending hours in the gym.

Even then, when every minute with the weights equaled a minute well away from college textbooks, I wasn’t smiling. I felt bored. The work paid off, sure, but I started dreading getting under the bar within just a month or two of starting my workouts.

That’s not a judgment on weight lifting. If anything, it’s a commentary on me — my lack of attention span, mainly, or my growing dissatisfaction with each hour spent away from more exciting prospects (like, uh, video games).

My gym trips didn’t last. And looking back on it, too, the minute they stopped is the same minute I started putting back all the pounds I’d worked so hard to lose.

I took a few big lessons from the ordeal. I don’t think I’ve ever laid them out plain here on the blog before, so let’s change that now. This is everything I know about fitness. It’s mental stuff, honestly, more than plain physical suggestions (though you’ll see a few of those too), as I’ve slowly come to realize my attitude toward exercise might be the most important factor of all.

Ready to dive in?

1. We eat more than we exercise.

Look at it this way.

When we exercise more—no matter the age, and no matter the type of workout—we tend to eat more too. Not everyone instinctively reaches for a bigger bowl, but I’d say most of us still have the same response: “Oh, I just spent an hour working out? Time to feast.”

That’s not a bad thing. Honestly, it’s pretty normal. Where we trip up, though, is in what happens next:

1. We stop exercising as much.
2. We keep eating the same amount of food.

The latter point is a far bigger problem than you might think. Who consciously decreases their food intake to match their reduced levels of activity? Who among us can recognize that we’re not moving around as much and start eating less to compensate? Not many, I’d argue, and—back in college, at least—most certainly not me. During those few months of gym visits, I ate much more food to compensate. Whenever I eventually burnt out, however, I kept eating the same amount — stuffing my face with the same amount of calories as when I had actually worked enough to earn them.

Consider this a recommendation to keep exercising for as long as you live. But consider it a reminder, too, to adapt during those periods that you don’t.

2. We don’t need a gym.

Again, this is no judgment on weight-lifting in a gym environment. Weights are a fantastic way to both build and maintain muscle mass, and I’d always recommend spending some time in the weight room versus not exercising at all.

But here’s the thing: they’re not strictly necessary. It’s easy to think otherwise when our concept of ‘exercise’ is a self-contained hour or so at the end of the workday, a place to get away from the stresses of both work and home. If you’d rather not shell out for a gym membership, though, and you don’t mind sweating up a storm in your own backyard, there are plenty of ways to stay fit without spending a dime.

I haven’t stepped into a gym more than once or twice in the last two years (and even then, I just needed a pullup bar). Despite this, and despite the fact that my natural tendency is to be as lazy as possible, I’ve built—and maintained—just as much muscle mass as I had back in my college days. How? Here are the big three:

So many pushups. I started the 100 Pushup challenge, as an example, and noticed a pretty startling transformation in my upper body by the time I was done. (And because I’ll always love linking to it, here’s a video of my buddy Joel Runyon utterly failing to complete the challenge.)

If you haven’t built up to a regular pushup yet, don’t be afraid to take intermediate steps. Wall pushups and knee pushups are a great way to get started, and all you really need to do is two to three sets of as many repetitions as you can.

So many pull ups. The Iron Gym Pull Up Bar is a godsend here. Hook it up on one of your door frames and build up, slowly but surely, until you can do 5 to 10 in a row. My friend Steve Kamb over at Nerd Fitness wrote an outstanding article on how to do a pull up, so I’ll let him do all the talking.

So many squats. Stop reading this post. Take a step away from the computer and bust out 50 air squats before coming back. Your body will hate you, but I promise it’s worth the effort. Squats stand out because they work so many different parts of  your body all at once (much like pull ups), and have the added advantage of being doable anywhere and everywhere — even in bathroom stalls.

These are the core three exercises I’ve pushed since day one. And the best part? That hasn’t changed. I’m convinced you can build a strong foundation with these three alone if you’re dedicated enough.

3. We do need to go really, really fast.

Do it once or twice per week, but don’t kill yourself in the process. Just one or two sprints—moving as fast as possible—will do tremendous things for your health whether they’re out on the grass or on a stationary bike, so don’t think you can’t do them if running isn’t really your thing. Try and build up to grass or sand sprints, that being said, and relish having your legs feel like jelly when you’re done.

4. We do need to run. (Maybe.)

I’m eating my words on this one.

And that’s the truth: back when I first started Primal, I adopted Mark Sisson’s caution against ‘chronic cardio’ as a kind of anti-running mentality. Combined with my deep, fervent love for low-carb diets, I just didn’t see how any kind of running had place in modern exercise, and made some pretty silly recommendations as a result.

I’ve grown up a bit since then. More accurately, I’ve realized that there is a tremendous distinction between running a few dozen miles per week and absolutely killing yourself in a marathon setting. There’s some variance even with that, too, since I have hard time believing that a one-off marathon runner is just as likely to harm herself as the type who eat marathons for breakfast for years on end.

Either way, I’ve come back to this: running is fine. It’s not strictly necessary, and I’m not planning on running more than a handful of miles myself, but if it’s something you enjoy and want to use either for conditioning or weight loss, go for it. I’ll be the guy running behind you in my funny shoes.

5. We do need variety.

I’ll admit it: I get bored.

As much as I love my big three, as listed above, I tend to get weary doing just that handful alone. The key to dedicated exercise, I’ve come to realize (and again, this might just be me), is this: mix it up.

I found a 10 pound sledgehammer in my garage and invented a new workout routine around that. I spied an old, heavy computer and made it a point to lift it several times above my head. When going for a run, now, I rarely do just that — I’ll stop every so often and crank out pushups, I’ll work in a sprint or two to get my heart rate up, and I’ve probably built a reputation around the neighborhood for being that weird guy doing pushups and dips on the jungle gym equipment.

I can’t stress this enough: try new things. Your body will thank you, sure, but so will your mind, and I sincerely think you’ll be much more likely—and happy—to try and stay fit.

6. We do need to rest.

Let’s be honest, here. Sometimes I don’t want to work out. I’m sure you know the feeling, and I’m sure it comes most often at the end of a long, stressful day at the office.

Rather than beat ourselves up, though, for taking that occasional day off, try this instead: enjoy it. Take the extra time to cook a great dinner or spend those extra minutes with family and friends. You could even do the right thing and go to bed earlier, too. And when you do eat, remember the first point of this article: maybe eat a little less than usual. Your actual caloric needs for the day will be reduced, so why not save that glass of red wine for a day when you do decide to work out?

7. We do need to play.

We live in a strange world, I think, that this might be the hardest thing on this list.

But that’s the sad truth about the ‘adult’ concept of play: we’ve digitized it. When I think of entertainment, now, my mind instinctively picks something digital, the result of many years of video gaming building a strong association between TV time and happiness. It’s a hard habit to break, but not an impossible one — we just need to learn how to play again. I’m still working on this myself, but I have a few ideas:

• Dancing. Good or bad, this is one of the absolute best ways to break a sweat and have a great time.
• Hiking. If you live in an area with hiking trails, what are you waiting for? Take some time away from your screens.
• Gardening. Not my first choice for entertainment, but I can’t deny that it makes for great low-level activity to keep you moving throughout the day.
• Sports. Use the Internet to find a local league for casual play.

My point is this: we need to play. We need to laugh and smile and enjoy ourselves as much as we possibly can, and we need to realize, lastly, that all of these things aren’t limited to kids. Those punks might have all the cool toys, sure, but we’re not exactly lacking in adult options for getting down.

8. We need to redefine exercise.

And this, I think, is the absolute most important part of this post.

When you read the word exercise, what do you think?

For so many of us, I bet, the word paints something like this:

• 6am yoga classes.
• An hour each day on the treadmill.
• Forty-five minutes with the weights.

Notice the common trend, here? Exercise, for so many of us, is self-contained. It’s a brief (the briefer the better!) period of time in which we sweat blood and tears, start to feel accomplished about ourselves, and then immediately eat a (too) big meal before plopping down on our butts for the rest of the evening.

Is that better than nothing? Absolutely. Is that good enough? It’s not.

You need to stay active. You need to redefine exercise. You need to realize that there’s nothing wrong with an hour at the gym, but that you have to do more, too. Thirty minutes of discrete exercise can’t compensate for twelve hours spent sitting down.

Start viewing exercise as something you can do every hour of the day. Stop thinking “what am I going to do when I get home tonight?” and start asking “what can I do right now?” instead. If you’re stuck for answers, here are some of my favorite choices:

• Air squats. You know the drill.
• Find a chair in your office and lift it repeatedly above your head.
• Handstands!
• Take a fifteen minute walk.
• Find a quiet place to do some lunges.
• Finish those lunges with some (wall, knee, etc.) pushups.
• Stand up and lift your ankles to do some calf raises. Do 30-50 of these and try not to cry.

And think about it: what if you did one of the above every thirty minutes to an hour at work? Ideally, sure, we’d all be free to walk and play as much as possible during the work day, but even these little efforts alone—when taken in combination—are so much better than sitting motionless for hours on end.

This is the ‘new’ exercise. Enjoy.

So how does this all actually pan out?

I’m glad you asked!

Let me show you what I do in an average day.

When I wake up, I pause a moment to think about what I want to do that day. Am I going to work out? I might have breakfast. If I’m going to do something light, I’ll probably skip it and enjoy a few cups of coffee instead.

Come work, I drop down at my desk and start eyeing the clock. Every thirty minutes or so, I pop up and try and do something active — whether that’s taking a short walk, squatting, or anything from the list above. Given an eight-hour work day, that means I’m up on my feet no less than sixteen times when I’m at the office. Not too bad, right?

When I get home, I weight my options. I’ve been sprinting more often recently, so I could go do a few long (30 seconds in length) sprints before doing some light bodyweight exercises. I could go for a short run and jump, climb, and sprint through my neighborhood while I do. If I haven’t worked my upper body in a few days, I could break out the sledgehammer and work with that. If I’m feeling masochistic, I could even do 100 burpees in a row. And some days, of course, I’ll make it a point to not do a damn thing.

Done with that, I’ll run through a shower, eat whenever I get hungry—not out of an obligation to eat post-exercise—and try and stand up as much as possible throughout the evening while working on my projects.

Simple as that.

Wrapping It All Up

In the spirit of simplicity, let’s recap it like this:

1. Move as much as possible throughout the day.

2. Lift heavy things.

3. Run really, really fast on occasion.

4. Match your food intake to your activity levels.

5. Mix it up.

That’s all I do, now, and so far I’ve been pleased with the results: just the right amount of muscle mass and plenty of strength to go alongside it. Even if you’re not aiming to get in great athletic shape, though, the five points above should still prove useful.

You need to stay active. You also need to enjoy doing it. And when you start, now, realize one thing: it’s never as hard as you might think.

That is, in fact, the double whammy of all my work here: for every post about food, fasting or ‘cheating’ that I’ve written, and for all the research I’ve done into figuring out just what we should eat, the real insight—the real truth—is kind of painful to admit.

I can’t give you The One Perfect Diet. I’d like to, certainly, but that’d be implying that such a thing exists — that it’s easy, that it’s cut and dry, and that every single book on your Whole Foods bookshelf agreed on what we should be eating.

They don’t. The bloggers, gurus, and health geeks don’t agree either.

What we’re left with, then, is us. We’re left with the people like you and me who can experiment, tweak, and change our minds on a monthly basis, trying our best to make sense of the mess that is modern nutrition. I’ve been doing just that for the past two years of my life, now, and I can say without hesitation that there’s still plenty of road left to travel.

Long and short of it? I can’t give you The One True Diet, no. But I can lay down the diet that we should be able to eat, as it serves a pretty good goal to start working toward.

The Ideal Diet

In this diet, macronutrients don’t exist. When you stare down at a plate of meat and vegetables, there are no carbs, protein or fat. There are no vitamins, minerals, or complexities added to what is otherwise a delicious dish.

It’s just food.

Think about that. As grateful as I am to Paleo/Primal for expanding my knowledge of food a thousandfold, I’m a little less impressed with where it puts a lot of the emphasis: on carbs. On grams. On tablespoons and ounces. That’s not unique to Paleo, no, but it does say a lot about how a diet with good intentions can still get bogged down in all the silly details.

Let’s keep it simple.

This, as I’ve come to understand it, is the Ideal Diet:

1. 90% of the time, eat real food.
2. 10% of the time, break rule #1.

That’s it.

But that doesn’t make for a very useful blog post, I know, so let’s break it down a bit further.

What is real food?

Meat. Fruit. Starch. Veggies. Eat as much as you need of all four of these. Enjoy it.

You don’t need to count carbs, protein or fat, but you do need to make sure that the vast majority of your meals revolve around what the earth alone can provide.

But what about rule #2?

It’s okay to indulge.

There’s some hesitation, here, as I write this. I don’t want this to be regarded as a blank check for binge eating at the local donut store. But I do want to echo one of the core messages of this blog: be kind to yourself.

You’re not perfect. You’re not ever going to be. And if having a slice of cake (okay, maybe two) at a wedding will help remind you why you do what you do, then eat the damn cake.

These occasional indulgences are just that: occasional. They do not form the core of your diet. But they can add a tremendous amount of happiness whenever you do introduce them, and for that reason alone they shouldn’t be followed up with misery, regret, and tears if you ever want to succeed.

But what does it all mean?

There are implications here beyond the obvious: that it’s okay to have junk food on occasion. That it’s okay to eat as much fruit (oh, the carbs!) as you want. That it’s okay to enjoy safe starches like potatoes and rice.

This is Paleo, I think, without the fear of carbohydrate — Paleo the way it is meant to be. (Paleo 2.0, in other words, though we’ll talk about Kurt Harris later on.)

This is, I think, the Ideal Diet. There’s no fuss, no drama, and no intense fear over what one small sweet potato might do to our waistline. Food is just food, at the end of the day, and we can treat it accordingly: as something to be celebrated, cherished, and shared freely.

This is my diet. I didn’t come to this straight away, mind you. Two years after taking the first plunge into Paleo/Primal waters, I’m just now settling into what I believe will be the way I eat for the rest of my life.

But there’s a catch, here, worth mentioning. Simple though it may be, the Ideal Diet isn’t built on ignorance. It wasn’t created, in other words, by me shoving my fingers in my ears and trying to forget everything I’ve learned. Instead, its roots trace back to a few observations I’ve made over these last two years of tweaking, all of which are covered below.

Everything I Know About Food

Disclaimer: what follows is what I believe about what we should eat. Your experience might suggest otherwise, and that’s just dandy — in fact, that might be the whole damn point of this post.

Sit tight. You’ll see what I mean.

1. You have to experiment.

This is your health.

Think about that for a moment. This is important.

While I’d love to pass off everything I write here as gospel, I know that wouldn’t be doing you any favors. What I’d like to do, instead, is be painfully honest right from the start.

What follows is what works for me. I am, at this time of writing, a 24 year-old smartass with no health complications to speak of, which puts me in a vastly different situation from the average person who might be reading this blog. The points below are what brought me to this stage, but the biggest factor, by far, was my willingness to experiment along the way until I found what worked for me.

I’ve done low-carb. I’ve done high-carb. I’ve done-low fat. I’ve done protein fasting. I’ve done a wide variety of things in these last two years, in other words, in an attempt to find the combination that made me feel strong and happy (and, luckily enough, the combo matches the Ideal Diet above). I think the ideas below still have relevance, that being said, to anyone looking to eat better, but I can’t pretend they apply universally across the board.

Try them out. If you don’t like how they make you feel, try something else. Just don’t stop until you’ve found the right combo that you can live happily with for the rest of your days.

2. Calories count.

Honestly? For the longest time, I didn’t believe it. Fresh from a reading of Gary Taubes, I believed the other c-word lay at the root of all problems: carbs. I remember telling family and friends, even, that they could eat as much food as they possibly wanted so long as they restricted their carb intake.

This isn’t true. Calories matter.

If you regularly eat well beyond your body’s required intake, you will gain weight. If you regularly eat less than your daily required intake (hello, fasting!), your body will be forced to burn stored body fat for fuel.

And doesn’t this make sense?

Calories matter.

But here’s the thing, folks, meant to alleviate that sinking feeling in your stomach: who gives a crap? Seriously, who cares?

You don’t have to count. You don’t have to hop on the scale every morning and sweat blood while you wait for the ticker to stop spinning. You don’t have to weight, measure, and obsess over every part of the process, turning one of life’s simplest pleasures into a source of endless stress.

You do, however, need to be aware of what you’re eating. You need to flip your brain firmly to the ON position and think about what you’re chewing. Why?

3. You have to eat less.

In my earliest days of Paleo, I remember feeling full. That’s not unusual, but the duration of the satiation proved surprising — for hours each day, my stomach never asked for food, a fact which I chalked up to low-carbing, ketosis, and some other magical, fanciful process occurring under my skin.

I joke, but I might not have been far off the mark. Hardcore ketosis does tend to suppress the appetite, and my sudden increased intake of fat and protein—the latter being the most satiating of all—probably had a hand in it too.

Where Primal/Paleo has some of its greatest success, however, is in this: it makes you eat less without realizing it. Removing processed food and a lot of carb-rich snacks cuts down pretty dramatically on the amount of calories you’re consuming. Where I would normally sit down at a restaurant and order a big bowl of pasta, I started opting for a salad instead. Where I would have french toast and pancakes for breakfast, I started having four eggs and six slices of bacon instead (and then skipped lunch because I was still so full). My body rejoiced. My waistline followed shortly thereafter.

And this is why so many diets do work so long as they introduce a caloric deficit. I’m not a fan of vegan diets for a variety of reasons, but I won’t deny that they do help people lose weight by removing a dense source of calories (let alone nutrition) from their diet. Is it any wonder that vegans/carnivores/fruitarians/anyone with a restrictive diet can lose weight?

Again, calories matter. But you don’t need to count them, and nor do you need to stress about the ultimate goal of weight loss: eating less.

Don’t worry. It’s not as stressful as you might think.

4. You have to listen to your stomach.

Are you hungry? Drink a glass of water. Wait ten minutes.

Are you hungry now? Eat something. About half the time, though, you probably won’t need to.

Let’s just state this outright: we’re out of touch with our stomachs.

At a friend’s house the other day, I overheard an interesting conversation between a mother and her young daughter. It went a little like this:

Mother: “Are you hungry, baby? You didn’t eat lunch today.”
Daughter: “No, mommy.”
Mother: “You should eat something. Do you want a snack?”
Daughter: “No, mommy.”
Mother: “Let me make you something.”

Don’t get me wrong — I’m not picking on parents, here, who by and large do a staggering amount of work for the sake of their children. I’m commenting instead on an eye-opening realization about hunger: it’s a conditioned response. In the modern world, at least, hunger is a result of a thousand different factors, the product of our emotions and societal conditioning more so than an actual need for food.

But what about when we were kids? What about when we played outside for hours and didn’t think about food for a minute until our parents called us back home? What about this little girl, here, still in touch with her natural hunger cues, who is being trained—slowly but surely—to ignore them?

It’s possible to get back to the basics. I still struggle with it myself, now, but I’ve gleaned a lot from these last six months of tweaking. Here’s how to do it:

Stop eating when you’re full. Don’t sneak “just one more bite,” and don’t linger at the table where the sight and smell of food can tempt you to keep stuffing your face. Box that food up immediately and put it in the fridge, if you’re at home, or tuck your takeout box under the table if you’re out at a restaurant.

Stop eating out of obligation. If dinner rolls around and you’re not hungry, here’s a game-changer: don’t eat. No one is forcing you to cook something.

Stop eating when you’re bored. Just the other day, in fact, I found myself wandering into the kitchen and eyeing the pantry. Was I hungry? Nope. Was I bored and looking for a distraction from work? Yep. Realize that snacks, by and large, are not necessary to keep you going. Eat slightly bigger meals if you need to, and take any and all steps possible to stay away from the kitchen when you’re just bumming around the house.

Stop eating when you’re stressed. Easier said than done, right? But stressed calories, to an overwhelming degree, are some of the worst we can consume, especially since they tend to be of the sweet and processed variety. If stress is a constant factor in your life, realize a few things. First: you do need to do something about it. Second: you don’t have to eat. Your stress response is entirely yours, I’m happy to report, and can be shifted with tremendous benefits to anything else: meditation, yoga, exercise, a long walk, etc. You don’t have to eat.

That last line is the most important. We’re taught, from birth, that we should eat three square meals, and we’re told to expect terrible, terrible things if we don’t.

I’m happy to report that this is bullshit.

5. You (might) have to skip a meal.

I’ve called Intermittent Fasting a tool—and an optional one at that—many times before on this blog, but I want to take a moment here to belabor the idea a bit longer.

You don’t have to fast. I think you should, certainly, if you’re in otherwise pretty solid condition, but the core benefit of fasting comes back to one central concept: eating less.

I’m amazed, sometimes, at the mind-boggling amount of food we consume. Your average modern eater will start their morning with something like pancakes or waffles and a glass of orange juice, move on to a burger (with fries and soft drink!) for lunch, and top the day off with a few slices of pizza or a frozen TV dinner.

That’s too much food. Where we really stumble, however, is in how we deal with it.

We walk for an hour on the treadmill. We sweat blood for thirty minutes on the elliptical. Meaning well, we spend hours at the gym every morning to try and earn our after-dinner slice of cheesecake — not realizing, now, that all of our hard work in the gym can’t possibly make up for eating so much damn food.

Here’s a different idea: don’t be afraid to compensate.

If you eat far too much at a wedding, as I did last weekend, adapt accordingly for the week after. I’m skipping breakfast every day this week and eating smaller meals overall to help compensate. I no doubt undid weeks of good work in half a day at the wedding, but that’s okay — because I know I can eat less and move more to make up for it.

That’s the beauty of this Ideal Diet. You’re not eating strictly planned meals three times a day, and you’re not stressing over portion sizes every time you do plop down at the table. You’re eating to satiation 90% of the time and walking away afterwards, but you’re absolutely okay with lingering for a glass of wine and a decadent dessert every so often too.

Why? Because you have the tools to make up for it. Don’t be afraid to compensate.

Skipping a meal or just eating less overall will not cause your universe to implode. I promise.

6. You have to keep perspective.

Part of the problem, I think, is how easily we get wrapped up in the now.

We stress over each meal as we sit down to enjoy it. We worry about how many carbs are on our plate or how many grams of fat we just drizzled over our (preferably big ass) salad. We place an incredible amount of importance on this one meal, forgetting the bigger picture as we go. It’s one meal out of two or three each day. It’s one meal out of twenty-something per week. It’s one meal out of about a thousand per year.

The trick, accordingly, is to keep things in perspective.

One indulgent meal (food allergies aside) will not derail you. It will not utterly destroy all of the hard work you’ve put in, and nor will it set you on the slippery slope back to drinking hamburger grease straight out of your fast food delivery bag. That’s not an excuse to indulge every thirty-six hours, but it is a good reason to not feel like the worst human being alive whenever you do.

Health doesn’t hinge around a single meal. You had to eat a ton of unhealthy meals to gain weight, and I promise you’ll have to eat a ton of smaller, healthy meals to get to your goal. That’s not a popular perspective, I bet, given how obsessed we are with instant results, but it’s a lot more honest about the nature of healthy eating.

This is a lifestyle. This is not some short-term fix. Live accordingly.

Wrapping It All Up

I used to be the fat kid.

When I lay it out like that, now, I want to laugh. But that would be downplaying how much my weight has been an issue throughout my life — whether as the tubby, surly fourth grader or thick college graduate, my reading on the scale has never really been where I wanted. Discovering Primal/Paleo about two years back, accordingly, was a game changer. I’ve never looked back. I don’t suspect I ever will.

I’m not the fat kid anymore. And while I’ve been teased (and rightfully so!) endlessly about being the half-naked blogger, I don’t think I need another shirtless photo to prove my point. I had a moment, a few weeks back, when a chance glimpse of my reflection in a window rooted me to the spot. I looked lean. That’s a horribly narcissistic thing to say, I know, but I want to stress how incredible it was to even have that thought in the first place.

Am I exactly where I want to be? Not quite. But I’m closer than I’ve ever been, now, and I know I have every tool I need to keep going. I have the diet, too, that’ll take me there, and I’m happy to report that it’s every bit as simple and inspiring as a diet should be. To recap:

1. 90% of the time, eat real food.
2. 10% of the time, break rule #1.

That’s it. And there lays the ultimate irony: after two years of reading, researching, and devouring as much information as possible, I’ve found myself coming right back to the basics. Eat real food. What a revolutionary thought!

Where to Go From Here

That’s not to say I’m done reading. A couple of incredibly bright individuals are still pouring every ounce of energy they have into exploring health and nutrition, and I’d like to list them here:

Paul Jaminet (The Perfect Health Diet) — Paul is an outstanding writer and possibly the kindest, most patient person I’ve ever read, which only makes his continued work over on his blog all the more impressive.

Kurt Harris (Archevore) — Kurt isn’t blogging too much anymore, but his guidelines for Paleo-style eating (and, likewise, the origins of Paleo 2.0 as I came to know it) are the ones I most closely identify with.

Mark Sisson (Mark’s Daily Apple) — Do I need to say more?

J. Stanton (Gnolls) — Mr. Stanton’s introduction to his take on Paleo is a solid one all around. I’m still not overly concerned with fructose intake, but I do appreciate the emphasis on nutrient-rich animal organs.

Anthony Colpo (AnthonyColpo.com) — His Fat Loss Bible is probably the best, most logically-consistent book on fat loss I’ve ever read.

And that’s a wrap, folks. Whew.

Any more that you think are worth reading? Sound off below! And check back tomorrow, folks, for the next installment in the Everything I Know series. I’m going out with a bang!

This Friday, in fact, I’ll publish the last post on this blog, a small video I’m recording now that covers in full every emotion—every word of thanks—I’m feeling as I stare down the last leg of this journey. I’ll save most of my words for then, but I wanted to kick this blitz week off the best possible way that I know I can. Here it goes:

Thank you.

Before anything and everything else, before any words on what I’m up to next and what’s going to happen to 3NL, I wanted to say thank you to every incredible, sweet person who has ever read these posts. I want to say thank you to every reader who reached out and made a connection beyond the blog, and I want to say thank you to every single person who has stuck with me for the last two years.

When I look back, now, at how I started, and who I was as a person when I first began, I can’t even believe how much I’ve changed. I frankly can’t believe how much this community has helped shape me, and I frankly can’t overstate the mix of excitement and uncertainty I’m feeling about moving on to my new virtual home.

And I gotta be honest, folks: it feels weird writing this. Very weird.

This decision wasn’t easy, no, but I know it’s right. Health (and a simple, practical approach to it) will always be an important part of my life, but my attention has been shifting to broader ideas over these last few months of living. You’ll see the result of that come Friday when I announce my next eHome and get the ball rolling for my Next Big Thing. I don’t want to spoil anything just yet, though, so let me take a moment to lay down the schedule for the week to come.

Tuesday through Thursday, I’m pulling out the big guns and publishing an Everything I Know series about 3NL’s three main focal points: food, fitness, and technology. To say that I’ve learned a lot through blogging, reading, and interacting with all of you over these last (almost!) two years is an understatement. To say that I’ve learned everything there is to know would be an utter lie. I hope, in any case, that this last series will prove useful as both a knowledge bank and a launching point for anyone looking to simplify those three areas of their life.

On Friday, I’ll publish the video I mentioned earlier. It’s fitting, I think, to wrap up Three New Leaves with a chance to thank all of you the most personal way that I can — to let you see and hear me, maybe for the first time, and roll your eyes when if I turn weepy at any point in the recording.

And what comes after that? Three New Leaves will stay online indefinitely. I’ve lost count of how many people have found this blog via a google search for Paleo Banana Bread, and I’m not so cold-hearted as to deny the people their delicious faux Paleo treat. The hope, again, is that any future ‘net surfers will stumble upon 3NL and be able to dig back through the archives in search of something worthwhile.

My blogging, however, will move to a new home — one that I genuinely hope (and think!) you’ll enjoy. I’ll still be talking about health at the new place, never fear, but in the broader context of living a simple, meaningful life in these increasingly chaotic times. In some ways, too, I feel like this will be a return to form. My very first eBook, Simpler, advocated a simple life in ways that I still affect me now, and I’m incredibly excited to use those ideas as the groundwork for future writing.

So sit tight, folks, and please stick with me throughout the rest of the week. The Big Damn Blitz Week, as I’ve taken to calling it, is only just beginning.

And About That Book

I want you to go this link: http://www.mattmadeiro.com/happiness.html.

And then I want you to be in my next book.

The book, entitled Happiness Is, is meant to be a short, fun piece about the simple pleasures in life — 50 of them, in fact, complete with brief (and often goofy) descriptions. Rather than having 50 straight pages of blurbs, however, I thought I’d try and include illustrations of each pleasure.

This is where you come in! My own drawing skills are earth-shatteringly bad at best, so I had the wild idea to open it up to friends, readers, etc. and see if anyone has any interest in picking an item off the list and drawing it.

What’s in it for you?

A few things:

1. You’ll make me incredibly happy. A secret hope of mine is to turn this into a community art project of sorts.
2. Your name pops up in an ebook! Your name will accompany your illustration (alongside a link to your website if you have one), and you’ll also get to write a blurb about yourself to insert into a section at the end of the book. If you’re not already a subscriber, too, you’ll (of course!) get a free copy of the book to put on your digital bookshelf.
3. The knowledge that you saved the world from exposure to my artistic ‘skills.’ The planet thanks you.

So here’s that link again: http://www.mattmadeiro.com/happiness.html.

You know what to do. The goal is to have these illustrations (at least this first round) by Wednesday of next week, so act now if you’re interested! And thanks!

I’m on the road to the tiny town of Comfort, Texas this weekend, landing in time for what I know will be two sunny days for two beautiful people. This isn’t my first wedding, and echoes of the last one—the food! the wine! the dancing!—remind me how when the moment is right, when the stars are aligned and the special occasion all buts calls for it, it’s okay to indulge.

It’s fine, even. It’s worth it.

And it’s worth remembering how two days of happy madness fit into the bigger picture. The span of a single weekend, I’m happy to report, will not destroy you. It will not derail you. If anything, it might offer some rest from the other five days of the week — the days spent worrying, stressing, and steadfastly trying to ignore the number on your bathroom scale. (That number is useless, by the way. Junk it.)

This is not an invitation to go nuts. You don’t, I’m happy to report, need to binge on an entire box of pizza, and nor do you need to plop down on Saturday morning and stuff your face well through that same night.

You do need to relax.

You need to enjoy this weekend in simple, small ways, and remind yourself why you do what you do: so you can do this. You eat healthy and clean and light during the week, in other words, so that you can relax and enjoy and smile when you’re out with friends or family on the weekend and temptation sits on a silver platter in front of you.

This is why you work. This is why you’re trying to eat healthy, but you’re not on a diet. This, lastly, is why you can nab a small spoon (or three) of bread pudding and just smile when people immediately seize the opportunity to comment on what you’re eating.

“But that’s not Paleo, right?”

“What about your diet?”

Enjoy the indulgence. In the context of your life, a weekend barely registers as a small drop in the pond — but in the moment, there, with that spoon on your lips, the occasional indulgence can make all of your hard work so worthwhile.

Have a great weekend.

And What’s This About a Book?

I want you to go this link: http://www.mattmadeiro.com/happiness.html.

And then I want you to be in my next book.

The book, entitled Happiness Is, is meant to be a short, fun piece about the simple pleasures in life — 50 of them, in fact, complete with brief (and often goofy) descriptions. Rather than having 50 straight pages of blurbs, however, I thought I’d try and include illustrations of each pleasure.

This is where you come in! My own drawing skills are earth-shatteringly bad at best, so I had the wild idea to open it up to friends, readers, etc. and see if anyone has any interest in picking an item off the list and drawing it.

What’s in it for you?

A few things:

1. You’ll make me incredibly happy. A secret hope of mine is to turn this into a community art project of sorts.
2. Your name pops up in an ebook! Your name will accompany your illustration (alongside a link to your website if you have one), and you’ll also get to write a blurb about yourself to insert into a section at the end of the book. If you’re not already a subscriber, too, you’ll (of course!) get a free copy of the book to put on your digital bookshelf.
3. The knowledge that you saved the world from exposure to my artistic ‘skills.’ The planet thanks you.

So here’s that link again: http://www.mattmadeiro.com/happiness.html.

You know what to do. The goal is to have these illustrations (at least this first round) by Wednesday of next week, so act now if you’re interested! And thanks!

For one week:

There are no carbs. There is no protein. There is no fat.

Macronutrients, for the span of seven days, do not exist. You’re left with real, whole food instead — not a collection of numbers.

For 90% of your meals, eat like this:

• Natural. As natural as you can manage within the constraints of your budget.
• Unprocessed. This food should not come out of a box.
• Colorful. Don’t overload on salads, but do try and get in a good mix of fruits and veggies.
• Nutrient-dense. Here’s looking at you, meat and starch.

For 10% of your meals, make it count. Want to eat something that isn’t natural, unprocessed, colorful, or nutrient-dense? That’s fine. But you’d better make damn well sure that it justifies being on your plate. Don’t reach for cheap, overly-processed crap — you already know what it tastes like. Find something that reminds you, with every single bite, why you decided to indulge.

After the indulgence, don’t beat yourself up. Eat less during the next meal or feel free to skip it entirely. Keep that in mind come regular meal time, too, if you find you’re not all that hungry. Guess what? You don’t have to eat. No one is forcing you. Let your stomach be your guide.

And when you do eat, do this:

• Immediately box leftovers and put them in the fridge. You don’t need the temptation.
• Listen to your stomach. The minute you start feeling full, stop eating. Step away from the table, have a glass of water, and get your mind off food.
• The minute you catch yourself thinking “Oh, there’s just a little bit left, I can just finish it off,” realize what you’re doing.
• Don’t be afraid to say no. Your friends might like to binge every time they go out, but that doesn’t mean you have to.

Cut back on snacking, too. You shouldn’t need miniature meals.

Lastly? Stop stressing. Realize that a single meal, in the context of everything you eat in a week — and in a month, and in a year — is just a drop in the bucket. One meal won’t derail you. How you approach every other meal, however, can. So why not keep it as simple, healthy, and real as possible?

Do this for one week.

And then do it for the week after. Try the week after that, too. Eat like this for an entire month, now, and realize one thing: this is the last ‘diet’ you’ll ever need.

Welcome to simplicity.

For every hour of television you watch during the week, set aside an equal number of hours away from the screen. Too many times, I think, lifestyle blogger gurus (bloggurus?) advocate an all or nothing approach. It’s tempting to break it down in black or white — you’re using your time wisely, or you’re watching TV. You’re spending time with your family, or you’re playing a video game. You’re studying your ex-boyfriend on Facebook, or you’re reading this blog. (Sorry. I had to.)

But here’s the thing: we do need to emphasize the latter way more than the former. We do need to swap out some mindless entertainment for something with a lot more value, and we do need to take a good, long look at those areas in our life that offer shining, sparkling lights but not much else in the way of experience or education.

Mostly, though, we need to shift our time from one side to the other. And the best way to do that?

We need to be mindful.

Awareness is Key

We need to be aware of how much media we consume in the first place, and then we need to make a pretty personal decision about how much we want to keep eating. We need to be aware, to keep up the TV angle, of how many hours we’re spending in front of the big box, and then we need to adjust our schedules accordingly — not to add more mindless hours, but to use the rest in a more meaningful way instead.

You might already be familiar with how much TV you’re consuming. (If so, kudos!) I’d argue that you’re not the norm, however, an observation I’ve gleaned from eavesdropping on lunchtime chat around the water cooler.

Your average office worker, having exited the building, tends to do one thing: vegetate. They tend to plop down, prop the feet up, and flick idly through the channels while dinner rotates on a plastic platter in the microwave. In some cases, too, this is understandable. High-stress jobs are typical in the modern world, so I’d argue it’s pretty common for your average worker (and not just the office variety, honestly) to need a few hours in the evening to shut things down and recharge.

That’s fine. Ideally, sure, this wouldn’t happen on a daily basis, and ideally you’d be spending most evenings in the pursuit of fine wine, fine art, and blah, blah, blah.

Look. You can still unwind.

Know What You’re Doing

You just need to do it mindfully. You need to be aware that after a long, hard day of working for someone else, you’re using your free time in the pursuit of idle, often useless entertainment. You need to be aware of what you’re doing.

Mostly, though, you need to choose. Want to watch TV when you get home? That’s fine! But do so knowing that you’re going to compensate with hours away from the screen either the next day, the day after that, or sometime over the weekend.

Make yourself a promise. For every hour I spend this week on TV/video games/movies/the Internet, I’ll set aside one hour away from the screen.

It’s a simple switch, all things considered.

If you choose to watch a lot of television during the week, that’s fine — you chose it, for one, which is an excellent step away from the mindless way we typically watch. You do so with full knowledge that you have to trade, too, and spend an equal amount of hours throughout the week with the TV turned off.

If you choose to watch less TV in light of the trade, well, even better. You might find yourself sitting with a lot of extra hours during the week. Feel free to use them like this:

• Board games!
• Read a good book.
• Read another good book.
• Take a short walk around the neighborhood now that Spring is in the air.
• Call up an old friend and spend thirty minutes catching up.
• Try that new recipe you’ve always wanted to attempt.
• Meet up with friends or family for a coffee date.
• Strap on your hardcore hat and take a really, really cold shower.
• Practice your drawing skills.

The list goes on.

So here’s your homework: make a trade. We’re halfway through the week, now, but that’s no reason to delay. When 5 o’clock rolls around and you hoof it back home tonight, stop and think about what you’re going to do. Want to watch TV? Go for it! Just keep track of how many hours you spend in front of the screen and start thinking about what you’re going to do with the same amount of hours away from it.

You might even realize that those TV-free hours sound far more tempting. Funny how that works, right?

Related reading:

• Corbett Barr definitely scooped me on this a few years back: Watching TV: Simple Pleasure of Stupid Waste of Time?

It’s easy, with your fingers pinching at your hips and your twin smiling back from the mirror, to break it down like this: you want to look better naked. I want to look better naked. That’s been a running joke from the earliest days of this blog, but let’s just call it a humorous twist on the truth — I want those abs.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

But I do think, now, when my designed Vanity Time rolls out in front of me, that there’s a little more to the story than might meet the eye. My reasons for doing this have expanded beyond the vain, I’m happy to report, and have brought some sentimentality along for the ride.

The realization got me thinking. Why are you doing this?

Why did you set out on this path to better health? What is pushing you forward, driving you onward, even when the scale doesn’t budge and you’re pretty sure you’ve lost the pounds everywhere but your butt?

Why do you do what you do?

Here are my reasons (in no particular order).

1. Abs. Always abs.

2. I want the confidence to go shirt-to-skin in approximately zero seconds.

I used to be the fat kid. I wish I could say that with a smile, but that’d be pretending I wasn’t cripplingly aware of it for the duration of my childhood. The teasing and insults didn’t help, but mostly I was struck by the thought — even back then — that I was the shirt kid down at the pool. I was the boy too afraid to take his shirt off even in one of the few situations where it’s socially acceptable to run around half-naked. I was the kid too self-conscious to be a kid — to have no cares in the world when my head was under the water.

Now, though, I want to strip free and run laughing down the sand — no hesitations, no second-guessing, just confidence in my body and the knowledge that I have absolutely no reason to try and hide it. I’m getting there.

3. I want to be healthy.

For me, certainly, so I can experience every part of life without any medical issues holding me back, but also for my future family: my wife, kids, pets and potted plants that might one day come down the pipes. I don’t see that happening anytime soon, sure, but I want to be in the healthiest shape of my life for when it does.

I want to be the kind of father who can keep pace with my children while we’re hiking up mountains and pounding along the trails. Most importantly, I want to be the father who lives long enough — and lives well enough, with no medication and no outstanding health complications — to see those kids grow into amazing human beings.

I want to be healthy for them. If you have a family, now, I think you’ll understand why.

Why Do You Do What You Do?

That’s my list. What’s on yours?

Put it all out on the public forum, here, and come back to this comment list whenever you’re feeling blue. Let this be a reminder to you, for now and in the future, of why you made the commitment to live healthy, and let it prove all the encouragement you need to keep going for the rest of your long, happy life.

Why do you do what you do?

Think about it. The answer might just be the most important part of the whole process. And once you have that answer, don’t let it go.

Staring down at this last leg of my fitness journey, now, I’m faced with what might be my biggest—and, ahem, most delicious—hurdle yet.

I like to eat. You put a plate in front of me, big or small, and I’ll do the one thing I’ve been pushed to do since birth: clean my plate. I leave no scone unturned. My stomach might cry mercy, but my mind eggs me onward, pushing for that last little bite of satisfaction and the sight of a white empty platter.

The solution is simple, in a sense. Are you hungry? No? Stop eating.

Were it this easy, though, the obesity crisis might not be such a big deal after all. That’s the nature of being human, I guess — we’re hard-wired to seek more food than we need, our body wanting the security of a little extra padding in case winter comes knocking and our primary food source suddenly disappears.

But that’s the kicker: winter never comes. We have inches and pounds and rolls of padding, now, that we never need, and a biological desire to keep packing on the calories.

This seven day challenge speaks to the Big Flippin’ Idea behind it all: you want to eat better. In so many ways, too, you want to eat less. And in this world of 24/7 dietary entertainment, maybe a challenge like this is all we need to stop, breathe, and push our half-empty plates in the opposite direction of our stomachs.

Want in? Read on.

1. Repeat after me: “I do not have to finish my plate.”

Post it in the comments below.

Say it aloud, too, so you can hear your own voice — so you can hear the conviction behind the idea.

You do not have to finish your plate. You do need to eat a reasonable portion that both satiates and satisfies, stopping the minute your stomach feels full.

2. Eating out? Ask for the to-go box early on.

Don’t wait, as we usually do, until the very end of the meal — until you’ve had a chance to sit, stretch, and digest for fifteen to twenty minutes, alternating between conversation and small bites on whatever is sitting pretty and flavorful in front of you.

That’s just asking for overeating. And speaking as someone who drains his entire bowl of pho for the sake of spicy, delicious soup, it’s amazing what having that plastic take-home container by your side can do.

When you’ve eaten your normal share, immediately put the rest in a to-go box. Don’t wait. Don’t hem and haw and nibble a little bit longer while everyone around you keeps munching merrily onward. Take whatever is left on your plate and shove it in the container, stow said container in your bag, and move that bag under the table or somewhere out of sight.

The temptation to keep eating is ever strong. When your dish is out of sight, safely stowed by your feet, and generally a nuisance to bring back up for a few more bites, you’ll find that listening to your stomach and pushing away your plate will become much, much easier overall.

3. Eating in? Try these few tricks on for size.

Don’t ever let me near a pan of ground beef. I can eat several plates full of food, feel my stomach start to complain, and still be seduced by the scent lingering by the stove: garlic, chili pepper, and everything right in this world, the combo of which proves too often irresistible.

When you cook your dinner during the next few week, try a new routine:

1. Make your plate. If you know you’ll need more than one, go ahead and fill two — but don’t forget that you don’t have to finish your plate if you can’t eat it all.
2. Before you eat, pack up the rest of the food in containers and shuttle it immediately into the fridge.
3. If you still find yourself hungry when you clear your plate, drink a few glasses of water and wait ten minutes to see if it’s legitimate hunger. If it is, grab a piece of fruit or a few squares of chocolate and leave your leftovers until tomorrow.

Small tweaks, to be sure, that have helped me stay stoic in the face of meaty, beefy temptation. Follow the routine above and you’ll also spare yourself one of the biggest gut-busters around: the little voice in your head that says “oh, there’s not even enough worth keeping” when there’s about half a plate left.

Guess what? That doesn’t mean you have to eat it. Pack it up and pair it with a salad and some fruit the next day for a still-tasty, reasonably-sized meal.

4. And remember: you don’t always have to eat.

I’m not speaking about intermittent fasting, for once. I’m referring instead to our tendency to stuff face in social settings: when we’re out drinking with friends, when we’re hanging around at a party, or when we’re just lounging around the house and sneaking a bite (and then another, and then another) from a bowl of candy sitting on the counter.

Too often, I think, do we mindless eat, and too often do we feel a strange kind of pressure to order when everyone else around us is stuffing their faces. I had that same sensation when out with friends this past weekend. After a long night out on the town, the group made a decision to run through a local fast food joint, and for a long, quiet minute I debated grabbing something for myself — the fact that I was thoroughly, undeniably full notwithstanding.

I didn’t need more food. If I had ordered it, sure, I would have enjoyed it (and probably skipped a meal the next day to compensate), but I’m starting to think that there is a time and place for me to eat: when I’m actually hungry. There’s always going to be social pressure to shove food down your throat. Realize this, now, and then realize two more things:

1. You don’t have to eat. No one is twisting your arm.

2. And if you do eat, you’d damn well better make it count.

Embrace the Challenge

Ready to get started?

Leave a comment below stating “I do not have to finish my plate.” And through next Monday, April 9th, I want you to do all of the above. Most importantly, though, I want you to stop eating when you’re full, and to realize that our minds (and eyes!) too often override our body’s actual need for food.

Funny, isn’t it? Eating less might just be as simple as pushing the plate away when we’re full.

And if you enjoyed this challenge, friends, please spread it to your networks. I’d love to see as many people as possible try and take this on.