Post #2138: Whey versus collagen protein powders, round 1. Collagen coffee taste test.

 

Except for the faint aftertaste of leather.

With effort, I think I could get used to collagen coffee.  Except for …

Seriously, I tried adding hydrolyzed collagen protein powder to my morning coffee.

I didn’t much like the results.

Edit:  A bit over a week later and I no longer have any ability to taste this in my morning coffee-with-a-spash-of-milk.  So, whatever it was that I found faintly objectionable, in this first taste of hydrolyzed collagen, in black coffee, it’s no longer an issue.   Unclear as to why.


End of weight loss is not as fantasized.

You picture the end of a diet as being like … I don’t know — like filling a punchbowl with ice cream, and plunging your face in.

But that’s not reality.  Every diet has a “maintenance phase”.

For me, the end of weight loss has become a matter of fine-tuning my now-existing diet.  Tweaking the knobs a bit.

This is one such fine-tuning.  Tweaking my protein input, to try to help my joints recover faster from exercise.


Easter Bunny, meet Tasteless Hydrolyzed Collagen.

Tasteless?  Nope.  Not quite.

The back story is that I’m going to try eating about an ounce a day of hydrolyzed collagen protein powder, hoping it will benefit my joints.  This, in response to a very slow recovery of those joints after a recent mountain day-hike.

In any case, as tested above, in coffee, I get a distinct “leather” aftertaste that is, unhappily, turning out to be difficult to disguise.

This, admittedly, from a sample, of a product.  And it was an acid test — big dose, straight up, in freshly brewed coffee.

I’m not sure how generic this issue is.  Rather than curse all such, I’m going to buy a jar of the top-shelf stuff from my local Vitamin Shoppe (not a sponsor).  So I will give this a retry with better stuff. After I eat my way through the five-pound bag of the stuff I just bought.  There’s a reason I am not allowed to enter Costco.

I side-by-side taste-tested my own coffee.  The Nescafe mug contains 10 grams hydrolyzed collagen, nicely dissolved in fresh coffee.  I compared the taste of this to the same coffee, unadulterated.

Blinding this — so I didn’t know which was which — would have done no good, because you can tell the coffee-plus-hydrolyzed-collagen from the mouth feel.  (The “silky” mouth feel is noted on the internet.  FWIW, it gives the same “throat-soothing” mouth feel as dense homemade chicken broth.

But back to taste.

The cup with the 10 gram (third-ounce) dose of hydrolyzed collagen protein powder had at the minimum, a faint aftertaste of … a badly-rinsed canteen, say.  Like you’d accidentally chewed on a piece of untanned leather.

It’s like you’d accidentally taken a bite on a piece of rawhide.  Maybe bit down on a rawhide lace to hold it taught temporarily.  And spat, say.  Maybe rinsed and spat.  But you inhaled through your nose soon after, and could still taste it.  Kind of like that.

Slightly mildewed rawhide.  Old canteen.  Along those lines.  Just a whiff.  Nothing that I particularly want in my coffee.

I tried disguising it with sweet chocolate, by adding a heaping teaspoon of chocolate whey protein from Costco.

It was a good try.  Definitely tasted better.

But that’s when I discovered that a chocolate taste, no matter how nice, does not cover up a lingering leather aftertaste

 

I got that cup down, but it was partly a chore.

It’s unclear what to do next.  Try to minimize it, try to get used to it, try it in some other format, try it at lower concentration.  Try it in some other liquids.  Try a different product.  Something.


Do not underestimate the power of Mucilage

For added fun, hydrolyzed collagen protein powder is a mess to use.

Spilling this powder (hydrolyzed collagen) on your kitchen countertops is like dripping glue on them.  You’d like to get it up before it sets, and it smears when you try.

(I have already explained the fundamental stupidity of stone countertops, owing to stone being a high-surface-energy material, and thus sort of the anti-teflon of cooking surfaces.  See Post #1790 on Formica.  So I’m a bit sensitive to the issue of having bits o’ crap stuck to my kitchen countertops.)

Spills can result in hard patches of what is, essentially, mucilage.  Hide glue.  On your countertops.

Lovely.

So, where cleanup of spilled whey powder is a snap, you just don’t want to spill any of this hydrolyzed collagen powder on your countertop.  At all.  Not unless you enjoy scouring them to get what’s glued itself to the countertop, off.

It is for human consumption and all.  It has the aminos I’m looking for, for my joints.  (See prior post).

But from the standpoint of clean-up, it’s water-activated hide glue powder, with an open time of maybe five minutes. Get it moist, and first it turns to slime, then it sets like glue.

I don’t need that at 6AM.


Conclusion

I’ve done my first head-to-head comparison between two animal-derived protein powders:  Whey and “hydrolyzed collagen”.

As I crudely understand this, the first (whey) is a waste product of the dairy industry, and the second, you just don’t wanna know where it comes from.  It’s made from waste products of the meat packing industry.

Admittedly, this was an acid test:  dissolved in my morning coffee.  And taste is subjective.  And it’s a first-time effort.

I’m going to call collagen coffee a fail, as noted above.  The product I used, at 10 grams in a cup of coffee, dissolved nicely in hot coffee, but was unpleasant due to its persistent aftertaste.

Separately, and not reported here, when I put some of that in literal chicken broth last night, I didn’t catch the leather after-taste.  So I’m sure I can find a way to eat it that won’t bother me.  Yet coffee would be ideal, because coffee is part of my daily routine. I suspect that if I can work this into my diet, it’ll be in savory soups (like chicken broth), or maybe with V8 juice.

Edit:  Second 10-gram dose of the day, in chicken broth, and the taste of the hydrolized collagen is not even remotely noticeable.  Whatever taste it has, it seems to blend in and get lost in the overwhelming umami of chicken broth. 

Second edit:  This stuff also seems to work OK with cold V-8 juice, at the rate of 10 grams of hydrolized collagen (a rounded cutlery teaspoon, plus a bit) to a 12 ounce glass of V8.  A bit of clumpage when merely mixed with a spoon, so this might require use of a frother or some such.  But it tastes fine, in the sense that I can’t taste it.

So, this new stuff — this broken down gelatin — if it doesn’t poison me, or disagree with me, or remind me of its origins in any way — this should work just fine, as a steady source of the amino acids I need to build joint-adjacent connective tissues.

It’s not a treat, the way the whey protein turned out to be.  But as long as I don’t put it in my coffee, I should be fine.

It’s also far from clear that I’ll be able to tell whether or not this helped, to any material degree.  I’ll have to take three equivalent mountain day-hikes this fall and see how badly my joints hurt afterward.

Finally, if this protein source doesn’t work out, I’m pretty sure I would get the same amino mix if I just ate Jell-O.  A whole lot of Jell-O.  An ounce of protein works out to more than three standard store packages of Jell-O, per day.  (A typical box of sugar-free gelatin weighs 0.3 ounces.)

Source:  https://swolverine.com/blogs/blog/whey-vs-beef-protein?srsltid=AfmBOoqBdkyF6MHbkEmPtHoLpWL_K6ROO9C_I_-VV3PJUda-SnUQiHn1

In any case, this stuff provides the aminos I’m looking for,  for my joints.  Or, if not this exact stuff, something very much like it.  And I now own a five-pound bag it.  It’s just going to take me a while to figure out how to eat it.

I had hoped that this new protein powder would be plug-and-play swapable with the whey protein powder that I already incorporate in my diet.  It’s not.  But it’s workable nevertheless.

By way of comparison, it was easy to incorporate whey protein powder in my diet.  The whey powder (which will always include emulsifiers) was a joy to use.  The chocolate-flavored whey powder from Costo is a plus in my morning coffee, despite needing to take care not to curdle it with the hot coffee.  It tastes just like coffee flavored with chocolate Ovaltine.  Separately, unflavored whey imparts no detectable taste to Jell-O sugarless instant chocolate pudding, which is then poured over frozen fruit, providing a full serving of protein in the form of a sweet treat. 

I should probably have some safety concerns, with this stuff.  As I said, you really don’t want to know what it’s made from.  But (e.g.) literal leather (cow skin) is certainly one of the likely initial sources.  Perhaps one of the less-unpleasant sources.  And yet, my guess is that that have to decompose (what is essentially) the impure gelatin that is the input, so hard, that any potentially harmful proteins (e.g., mad-cow prions) should be destroyed in the process.  Kind of ultra-ultra-pasturized.   I should probably look into that more before I get all gung-ho about this.

Post #2134: Hollow Brook Falls/Sam Moore Shelter hike.

 

The first part of this hike is what everyone thinks a walk in the eastern woods should look like.  After a brief climb on some stone stairs, you gradually arrive at a long section of mostly-level dirt trail.  As shown  left.

The trail head is on a rarely-used gravel road.  On the trail, the only man-made noises were from the occasional jet flying overhead, and one far-off dog.

By contrast, the woods were full of birds.  This ends up as a hike, on a good trail, out of earshot of roads, listening to songbirds and woodpeckers.

The side-trail to the waterfall on Hollow Brook is a hoot.  But perhaps not appropriate for small children.  It ends at the waterfall pictured above.

The trail gets rockier and steeper as you travel further north.  Pick your turnaround point as you see fit.

 

Continue reading Post #2134: Hollow Brook Falls/Sam Moore Shelter hike.

Post #2133: Clickety-clack. Trekking poles are loud. A partial fix is … ineffective.

 

On the East Coast, you do not need to wear a bear bell.  Aluminum trekking poles — if applied with due diligence — will make all the noise you need to alert the wildlife.

And everyone else.

Seriously, trekking pole noise is an issue that deserves to be … heard.

This post is my brief inquiry into trekking pole noise.  And what I can do about it.

Edit, the next day:  I took my modified trekking poles (below) on a hike, and the fix shown below does essentially nothing to suppress the noise these poles make.  

The act of jamming the pole tip down onto the rock — basically, using these poles — causes the aluminum to sound.  Worse, accidentally slapping the hard plastic tip of the pole, sideways, into the rock, produces a loud rackety-bang noise out of the aluminum pole.

As of now, I’m guessing that the only effective way to quiet down these noisy aluminum trekking poles is to cover the carbide tips with rubber tips. 

I may have to rethink my aversion to rubber crutch tips on trekking poles.


To cut to the …

I count at least three distinct, common trekking pole noises.

First, there’s the ringing slap of the aluminum pole against rock.  What I would call the bangety-bang noise.  This isn’t something you do intentionally, it’s just the side of the pole accidentally banging against the rock as you put the pole down, over and over again, in time to your walking.

Second, there’s the potential for the inner workings of the pole to rattle, make boinging-boing noises, and similar, as most trekking poles are “spring loaded” to minimize shock to your hands as you use them.

My poles don’t have this problem.  But some of them jangle as they are used.

Finally, there is the noise of the carbide pole tip biting into the rock surface.  I’ll go into it at length below, but suffice it to say, they put carbide tips on these for a good reason.  They are integral to these functioning well on rock, in all weather.

I don’t think I can get rid of that noise.

So, of what I count as the three main sources of noise, the only one relevant to me, that I think I can do something about, is the ringing bang of the bare aluminum pole against rocks.

I’m trying the above, to minimize that.  If for no other reason than “Of course I have a dead bicycle inner tube hanging up in my garage.  Doesn’t everyone?”

Anyway, this is surely an idiot-proof fix.  We’ll see if it stops the banging, on my next hike.


Trekking pole noise, a more sensitive issue for hunters than hikers.

On line, you see sporadic mentions of trekking pole noise, as an annoyance on the trail.

On my most recent hike, I heard a bit of grumbling from one hiker.  Not direct at me, but at a guy who had jangled up the trail some tens of minutes earlier.

And my fellow hiker had a point.  When a trekking pole user is approaching along the trail, you can typically hear the clackety-clack, and sometimes the jingle-jangle, from quite a ways off.

But what to do about that?  As a trekking poles user, I mean.

Logically enough, the best discussions of trekking pole noise that I stumbled across were in the sportsman (hunting/fishing) community.  Trekking pole noise is a drawback when stalking prey, so it receives full and serious attention in that market sector.

From discussion among hunters, I learned that

  • sloppy users make more noise than those who are more careful,
  • and some brands of poles are noisier than others,
  • carbon fiber poles are quieter than aluminum.

And, finally, I ran across this bicycle-inner-tube fix, in those sportsmen’s discussions.

It was a goldilocks moment.  Soft plastic — pool noodle, pipe insulation — couldn’t handle the abrasion of the rocks.  Hard plastic — like vinyl tubing, rubber garden hose, or similar — would take some ingenuity to attach, and have it stay attached.

But inner tube material seemed just about right.  Very tough, for sure.  Prevents metal-to-rock contact.  And big enough to allow the pole to be fully collapsed, even with this inner-tube sleeve attached.

Why I’m (probably) not going to use rubber crutch tips.

Source:  https://science.howstuffworks.com/environmental/earth/geology/mohs-hardness-scale.htm

A separate part of trekking pole noise is the impact of the carbide tips on rock.

Not only does the impact of carbide tip on rock make noise, it marks the rock.    This draws some criticism of trekking poles, in some heavily-hiked areas, because over time the rocks become visibly scarred.

But carbide trekking sticks tips scar the rock by design.  Tungsten carbide is harder than any common rock, by a wide margin.  On Moh’s scale, it’s a 9+, where quartz (about the hardest rock around here) is 7 on the Moh’s scale.  That carbide tip “bites into” the rock underneath it when you apply weight.  That keeps the tip from slipping under adverse conditions (e.g., wet and muddy).

I have rubber crutch tips to fit over the carbide tips on my old, cheap trekking sticks.  I can see that a) I used them, b) I took them off, and c) they have some mud on them.

My take on that is that the rubber tips aren’t much good, under the circumstances where I rely on trekking sticks.  That is, going downhill, putting a lot of weight on the sticks to take stress off my knee joints.  In that situation, if the tip skids on the rocks, the results could be very bad indeed.

And so, from the look of it, and as best I can recall, when I last used these — about seven years ago — I tried the rubber crutch tips and found them to be unreliable for rocky trail descents in adverse (muddy/wet) conditions.

They’ll slip, in situations where the carbide tip — with its minuscule surface area in contact with the rock, grinding into the rock — will not.

I may try some upgraded rubber tips, to see if that makes any difference.  Or, maybe, see if I can find ones that are adequate in dry conditions, for me, leaning on them as I descend rocky trails.

Plus, as a day hiker and retiree, if it looks like rain, I ain’t going hiking.  So maybe I don’t need much in the way of muddy/wet performance.  (Or, when I don’t, maybe I can get by with rubber tips.)

Conclusion.

I’ve done the simple fix, for one component of trekking stick noise.

Nothing to do but try it out on the next hike and see whether it makes a difference or not.

Post #2132: Bears Den Overlook/Sam Moore Shelter hike.

 

This is a good day hike if you’re looking for a workout.  That’s the consensus of opinion on hiking upward.

Otherwise, there’s nothing special to recommend it.  You hike over some ridges and through some hollows, to an Appalachian Trail shelter in the middle of the woods, next to a creek.  And you hike back.

It’s slow hiking, with abundant rocks.

Continue reading Post #2132: Bears Den Overlook/Sam Moore Shelter hike.

Post #2131: New hiking boots from Lowes.

 

Lowes.  Lowa’s.  What’s the difference.

I bought Lowa Renegade boots, from my local REI.

Addendum 5/4/2025:  After two day-hikes of 6-7 miles each, on the nearest sections of the Appalachian Trail, these boots get an A+ from my feet (zero problems) and at least a B from my joints (in reducing shock).

But the fabric has already started fraying on the boot collars.  That’s from me scuffing the ankle of one boot with the heel of the opposite boot, as I walk.  I got proactive and Barge-cemented a small leather patch on each boot collar, to take the scuffing.

I am not happy about that.  Put a happy face on it by saying that I like the boots so much, I was willing to invest a couple of leather scraps to serve as wear pads needed for my heel-scuffing gait.

In addition, the Vibram soles are much better than they looked in the store.  The semi-slick surface of the injection-molded soles has now worn to a nice matte finish.  The soles have good traction.

They’re good hiking boots. I don’t regret purchasing them.  I remain unhappy that I had to add wear patches.  Such is life.

Edit 5/9/2025:  Ten miles of rocky trails, and these patches are already showing wear.  I’m sure that the original cloth would not stand up to this much abuse.


The story so far

Thanks to yesterday’s big adventure (Raven Rocks overlook hike), I now know that I need better boots (or maybe shoes) to hike in.  And that I need to eat before I hike.

What the mountain hike lacks in average intensity, versus cardio machines at the gym, it more than makes up in duration.  By the book, this little 5.4 mile hike involves four hours of walking, plus lunchtime.  I’m sure this well-under-six-mile hike burned at least twice the calories of an hour’s CV exercise at the gym. 

But that means I needed to have twice the readily-available stored energy, on tap.  Turns out, I didn’t.  I don’t pack that much glycogen.  And, worse, I can’t burn fat fast enough to keep up with the demands of hiking.  That’s how I interpret that last hike.  I ran out of sugar and glycogen, and I’m too low-power as a fat burner, for hiking. 

A degree of “brain fog” of fatigue ensued.  Not terrible, but not good.  Double plus ungood if you’re a geezer hiking a steep rocky trail.  Do I need to wear a helmet when I hike?

The obvious fix for running out of energy on the hike is to eat breakfast first. Duh.  Eat a high-starch breakfast, then drive an hour to the trail head.  Somewhere in the first couple of hours of hiking, presumably, those carbs will be available as sugars to burn. A few packs of ramen would provide an easy test.

Then there’s the boots.


About a boot.  I bought boots.

Lowa Renegade boots.  And I know they’re cool because they’ve got speed laces.  And because they’re pronounced re-ne-GAh-da.  Or should be.

For the Raven Rocks hike, I made do with some work boots and two pairs of socks.  That worked.  The stiff soles and leather uppers of my old Walmart/Brahma work boots kept the soles of my feet from being beaten up by the rocks.  For which I am grateful.

Those work boots failed on the downhills.  No shame in that, and not unexpected.  The “work boot” design isn’t made to prevent that downhill slide, within the boot, that results in your toes getting crammed into the end of the boot, on the downhills.  Making the boot rigid/close-fitting enough to stop your foot’s downhill slide within the boot would make the boot uncomfortable as a work boot.

I need something made for hiking.  If nothing else, I’m old, and need all the help I can get.  Stiff soles are required, else the edges of the rocks beat up the soles of your feet.  Ankle support (high tops) are a good idea if you’re stepping around fist-sized rocks a lot.  Finally, I need something that passes the “toes remain comfy on downhills” test.

The more I looked, the higher up the market I went.  For one thing, a lot of low-end hiking boots are more … hiking-style boots.  They aren’t typically bought to be used for mountain hiking.  Which suggests to me that they aren’t typically made to do mountain hiking well.

Weirdly, that crossover at the low end — people using hiking-look boots, as general-purpose boots — occurs in part because, for reasons I cannot fathom, this category of footwear is known as “waterproof hiking boots”Waterproof is, as far as I can tell, not optional, and absolutely integral to the category of footwear I wanted.  You want hiking boots, of the type I’m after, you’re getting waterproof hiking boots.

Apparently a lot of people buy them not as hiking boots, but as a style of waterproof boots.  A lot of commenters actively disliked the features — e.g., stiffness — that made them hiking boots.  And so, at the low end of the market, you have a lot of what I’d call hiking-style boots, whose construction and fit is more like … eh, work boots.  And if the boots fail to fit and act like work boots, the commenters call them out for it.  (And for failure of the waterproofing.)

Long story short, after a lengthy shopping expedition, first on-line, then at my local DSW, I finally ended up at REI on a Saturday afternoon.  And I bought the best of what they had on the shelf.   Which is a story in and of itself.

I paid about what you’d think, buying top-shelf boots from REI.  But, arguably, less than the cost of a broken ankle.

What I ended up with was a pricey thin-but-stiff leather boot with thick Vibram sole, from Lowa.  Which to my surprise, is a German-made boot, explaining both the high cost and the excellent everything else.

So it’s a German-designed and assembled boot, incorporating American fabric (Gore-Tex), and Italian soles (Vitale Bramini?).  (Although, these injection-molded Vibram soles are nothing like traditional real (rubber) Vibram soles.)

Das boot is a real-life lesson for the Age of Tariffs and supply chains.

At any rate, these are right for the task.  Stiff sole.  Stiff ankle support.  Good toe room.  Vibram sole. And speed laces.

On the downside, aside from cost:  They have leather uppers, which I did not want.  I’d prefer more “sneaker-like” construction.  But thin leather is not a terrible choice given that these are, after all, boots.

And they are disposables, which I also did not want in a high-end boot.  Just like a pair of sneakers, they cannot be resoled.  I’m guessing that at my age, this is unlikely to be a problem.


Conclusions

Cheap boots are false economy.  But sometimes cheap boots will do.  And the availability of better boots does not give you carte blanche.

That said, at the end of the day, I bought the best hiking boots I could find locally.  Locally, so I could try them on first.  And the best I could find, not because I set out to do that.  But because, somewhere along the line, after looking at what was for offer, that started to make sense.

My other take-away is that REI, here in NoVA, is a fundamentally weird place.  Doubly so on a spring Saturday.  A whole lotta shopping goin’ on.  An eclectic mix of staff.

They say these German-made hiking boots should last 1000 miles.  Or maybe it’s kilometers.

Either way, I’d like to put that to the test.  Otherwise I’m just another doofus in expensive boots.

Starting just as soon as I heal up from the last hike.


Addendum:  Tuning the lacing on a stroll downtown.

I strolled to Walgreens, to get sunscreen.  Maybe two miles round-trip, on the sidewalks.

The boots did fine.  I did fine.  It was fine.

The leather on these is stiff enough that I assume they require some sort of break-in period.  People may sometimes tell you otherwise, but my experience says that it takes a while for leather boots and feet to get to know one another.    I’m doing that by wearing them around, a bit at a time, and eschewing (e.g.) oils (or even water) to speed the break-in.  I’m in no particular hurry.

To my surprise, these boots don’t have to fit tightly around the foot, in order to pass the downhill no-toe-cram test.  Instead, you can set up the lacing to be (comfortably) relaxed around the foot, as long as the ankle portion of the lacing is pulled tight. 

It’s designed this way.  The ankle portion of the lacing is the speed laces.  Tighten them up, leaving the lacing relatively loose on the foot, and the boot effectively grabs you by the ankle.  Firmly, but gently.  And that keeps your foot from sliding forward in your shoe, on (modest, so far) downhills.

The upshot is that a) the boots pass the downhill test so far, and b) my feet feel better loosely-laced.  But that all works out, because the boot is designed to hold two different tensions, on those two different parts of the lacing.

Comfortable hiking boot?  That’s kind of a foreign concept to me, but, these are foreign boots.

I guess it all works out.

Post #2128: One hundred pounds and done: The end of my weight loss.

 

I weighed 185 this morning.

For the first time since high school, I’m not overweight.  I have reached normal weight, based on my body mass index (BMI).   No drugs involved, just diet and exercise.

Even as recently as last year, I thought this was an impossible goal.  I was more-than-satisfied with the results when I finally made it to “overweight”, rather than “obese”.

But “normal”?  Not in my wildest dreams.

And now that I’ve made it, it’s kind of an anticlimax, really.  As I explain below.


Let’s just get all the standard successful-weight-loss stuff out of the way.

Based on what I see on the internet, I have to start this post by crowing about my weight loss in as many ways as possible.  Show some pictures of me holding up some now-comically-large clothing.  Maybe some side-by-sides of obese-me versus normal-me.

Skip that.

I’ve lost 100 pounds, from 285 to 185.  I’ve lost a foot off my waist, from 46″ to 34″.  I don’t think I need to belabor it.

This resulted in all the changes you might expect, and then some.

I’ve lost enough weight that I’ve had to adjust not just my clothing size, but a bunch of other things, as detailed in my prior posts on weight loss.  Shoes.  Eyeglasses.  Bed.  Patio furniture.  I hit another one just yesterday:  I’ve lost so much weight, I’ve had to reset the suspension on my bike.  I thought the air shock suspension on the bike had gone flat.  To the contrary, it’s just way too stiff, having been set for a guy who weighed 100 pounds more than me.

Turns out, there’s a lot of stuff in your life that conforms to how fat you are, and it takes quite a while to find it all, once you’ve lost the fat.


Surprisingly not difficult

I’m also supposed to belabor the struggle, how difficult things got as I got thinner, and on and on.  Those awful weight plateaus, and the effort it took to break through them.  As if it took some sort of super-human willpower to get through this.

But that just didn’t happen.   As you can see above, the weight came off almost like clockwork.  Even now, I’m pretty sure I could just continue losing weight until I starved myself to death.  The point being that nothing about my body’s reaction to weight loss did anything to stop further weight loss.

That’s not to say that this was costless or effortless.  I have, in fact, changed more-or-less everything about what and how I eat.  Put up with some hunger.  Had some bad days.  And so on.

But the facts are that:

  • I proceeded slowly.  I didn’t try to jump into some all-new lifestyle.
  • I changed my diet initially merely by addressing my worst bad habits, starting with alcoholism, and working down from there.
  • I monitored the results and adjusted as necessary.
  • As my diet changed, my cravings faded, and my sense of hunger faded.
  • And, eventually, I settled on:
    • a modest 500-calorie-per-day deficit,
    • eating nothing but small meals and snacks throughout the day,
    • eating no (or nearly no) starch, “empty calories”, junk food, fast food, or takeout food.

The fact is, although I started off merely trying to achieve sobriety, I ended up with an almost-completely-conventional weight loss program.

In the end, I aimed for very slow weight loss (5 pounds a month).  The theory is that this prevents your body from over-reacting to the calorie restrictions.  And, near as I can tell, that worked.

I eat a ridiculously healthful diet, but not by choice.  Turns out, if you restrict your calories, and you want to meet your RDAs for nutrients, you have no choice but to eat high-nutrient-density foods.  Just as a matter of arithmetic.

In other words, restricting my calories, by itself, resulted in big improvements in the quality of my diet.  I could not meet RDA targets for nutrient and continue to eat empty calories (e.g., pasta).  As a result, one decision at a time, all the empty calories (e.g., potato chips) get slowly squeezed out of the diet, in favor of your classic fruit, vegetables, fish, lean meat, nuts.

I’ve had to resort to whey protein powder as a protein source.  Otherwise, to meet a dietary protein standard (1 gram per kilogram body weight, per day), I’d have ended up eating nothing but meat, all day long.  Whey protein gives you high-quality protein for the fewest possible calories.

Otherwise, I eat what I want.  For example, I put high-fat blue cheese dressing on my salads.  Why?  Because I like it.  Every piece of diet advice says to use vinegar or some other no-cal salad dressing.  But without the fat, my body simply does not register salad greens as food.  So I eat high-fat salads.   So sue me.

Under my weight loss plan, any food is fine, as long as three things happen:

  • I stay within my daily total calorie limit.
  • The food is not a high-glycemic-index food or otherwise stimulates hunger.
  • The food is not “empty calories” (except possibly in small amounts).

Separately, regular exercise, properly timed, has two direct and obvious benefits. 

  • Sure, it burns some calories.
  • But, it also temporarily kills your appetite, and takes up time that you can’t spend eating, or thinking about eating.

Every other day, my wife and I hit the gym mid-morning.  The principal advantage of mid-morning exercise is that it resets that day’s “diet clock”.  We’ll get back from the gym around lunch time, and at that point, my combined diet-and-exercise calorie total for the day is negative.  I won’t hit “break even” until about 2 PM.  And so, in effect, I get to eat a day’s worth of food, in the last eight or so hours in the day.  Plus, being able to eat a bit more, on gym days, is a great incentive to get to the gym.

Finally, the only big downside, so far, is that I have a wrinkly tummy.  (And probably ass, but I can’t see that in the mirror, so I don’t much care.)  Wrinkly enough that it looks weird.  I’ll wear a rash guard when I go swimming, and that’ll cover that.


What’s next?

Not much.  That’s what makes this such an anti-climax.

Now that my weight should be stable for a while, I’m going to buy some summer clothes.

I’ll eat maybe another 500 calories a day.

That’s about it.


Conclusion

My unshakeable conclusion is that more-or-less all the standard, mainstream diet advice — such as you might get from a physician or other medical professional — is correct.

Don’t:  Be an habitual drunk, eat junk food, eat empty starch calories, eat without limit, be sedentary, eat large amounts of sugars, starches, and other high-glycemic-index foods.

Do:  Eat high-nutrient-density foods, subject to a calorie limit, and get regular exercise.

That’s boring advice.

But sometimes boring is good.

Post 2092, revised. These were a few of my favorite things.

 

Edit:  It’s now looking like an independent Federal Reserve is soon to be toast.  Back when government elites had to follow the law, it would have been illegal to replace the Fed chair before the term is up.  But that’s history.

Looking on the bright side, this will solve our toilet paper shortage once and for all.  Give it a couple of years, and you can just reach into your wallet if you’re caught short.  That’s what the dollar will be good for, once we’ve gone full banana republic with our currency. 

The price of gold has been rising out of sight?  My guess is, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet. 

I’m moving my paper assets into anything-but-dollar-denominated-investments.  For the little people, like me, normally, foreign investment accounts would greatly increase likelihood of an IRS audit.  But now that the IRS staff has been cut, I guess I can just laugh at the IRS the way the rich do. 

In any case, better that, than staying invested in nothing but dollar-denominated assets, while control of the Fed is seized by the economic geniuses who think that huge tariffs, changing daily, are brilliant economic policy.

Thank God Trump established a U.S. cryptocurrency reserve ahead of time.  Such foresight! /s

Original post, from 2/6/2025, follows.

These are three things that I try to bring to mind, as I read the news, and the Trump Takeover unfolds.

I take it as given that the reader knows this Presidential transition is not normal.

And that breaking stuff is easy.

In order, my three main points of reality-based comfort are:

The Fed

Source:  Via Wikipedia, “By AgnosticPreachersKid – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6282818”.

It makes a nice mantra.

I chant that, in my mind, to calm the jumpies that I get, whenever I start thinking about who now has access to what, where, within the computer system that literally makes U.S. Government payments.

Sure, they’ve let the barbarians into the Treasury, and while that opens the door to all kinds of potential mischief and avoidable security issues, I should stay focused on the dollar.  Because everything I own is denominated in those.

So, who makes (creates) the dollar anyway?  And, likewise, who runs the banking system?

The answer I come up with is the Fed. Not Treasury.

At which point I breathe a sigh of relief.  And try to fix that fact firmly in my head.  The (security of) the dollar depends on the Fed, not the Treasury.

At least for now.  I think.

This, despite the Treasury being tasked with creating the physical tokens we exchange as money, in the Bureau of Engraving and Printing.  But a) don’t confuse that with real money, and b) they do that, in effect, under license and control of the Fed, as the bills themselves are Federal Reserve Notes.  It’s why even the lowly $1 bill has a unique serial number on it.

Global warming

The science there is pretty good.  We’ve got a handle on the major trends, under a business-as-usual scenario.  No shortage of credible warnings.

Without a doubt, the pro-fossil-fuel, anti-renewable, climate-change head-in-the-sand posture of the Republican party, at this moment in time, will eventually stand out as having been spectacularly dumb.

Even if I’m an optimist on this — a position that does not come naturally to me — and assume we’ll eventually get a handle on climate change, our descendants will curse us for at least the easily-avoidable costs we now impose.

Better not to burn it.  If you can avoid it.  That’s the minimal answer to fossil fuels.

By that lowest-bar criterion, Republican global warming policy flunks.

Science ain’t going nowhere.  All this anti-science nonsense, in the long run, all of that loses. 

It may take a while.  But it’s not nice to fool Mother Nature.

Medicare?

 

I read where Musk’s Team was going to identify fraud in the Medicare program.

I’ve been around Medicare most of my professional life. FWIW.  So this was a very comfortable topic for me.

And I said, fraud in Medicare?  I’d bet you can find some. 

There always has been, always will be, fraud in Medicare.

Ideally, you’d like to keep it to minimum. As would any insurer.  Or any sane individual, for that matter.

My point being that it’s not as if this issue of fraud has passed unnoticed.

To the contrary.  I can vaguely recall the Medicare program having, effectively, competitions among contractors, to see who could flag the most fraud.  And I vaguely recall that IBM and Watson itself took on this task, at some point.  But without anything much happening.  My memory or not, there’s too much money to be made in stopping it, if nothing else.

Thus, I see a proposal to throw de-identified Medicare claims data up against the latest AI, and … see what sticks?

Not a bad idea. 

I’d be surprised if it hasn’t already been tried. Twice over.  Perhaps Musk has access to a “better” AI?  Perhaps the Medicare claims processors were behind the times?  Or perhaps not. Or maybe it doesn’t matter, or the problem remains ill-suited to AI.

In any case, fraud in Medicare claims.  Been there.  Done that.

I’d bet they’re going to find some.

But no more than anybody else.

But if so, that would be reassuringly normal.  Everybody takes a hack at fraud in Medicare.  To the point where I’m pretty sure there ain’t no low-hanging fruit.  Or not much.

But I recall that Medicare got stung badly, recently, by a novel scam that involved buying up dying DME suppliers, and thereby obtaining the existing DME suppliers’ licensure (registration?) with the Medicare program.   Whoever bought up those dying DME businesses then abused that portfolio of strategically purchased DME suppliers’ credentials.  A lot. Billed the fill-in-the-profanity-here out of them.

Then, last I heard, successfully skedaddled with the cash. 

A notable black eye for Medicare, at the very least. That’s where I lost the thread.  But that’s a novel and well-thought-out scam.  Perhaps that was a one-off.

Separately, when you get right down to it, this Administration knows a thing or two about Medicare fraud.  Here’s a Washington Post article about the several Trump pardons of individuals convicted of serious Medicare fraud (reference).  It’s not often that you get a name to attach to a $1B Medicare fraud scheme.  In the context of “pardoned by the President”.

 


Conclusion

 

This morning, the plants in my yard are weighted down with a quarter-inch of accumulated sleet.  Meanwhile, the sleet has turned to sporadic rain.

I am sitting in front of a lit wood stove, as I write this.  Between the weather, and the way the USA is headed, I needed some fire.

Something basic.  Comforting.  But real.  Something I think I understand.

I want my life to be more along the lines of a stack of kiln-dried firewood.  And a bit less like a dumpster fire.

If that’s not too much to ask.

Post #2126: Oh, the price of gold is rising out of sight, III

 

Gold blew through $3100 $3200 $3300 / ounce this morning.

 

As noted in prior posts, an increase in the price of gold is never a good thing.

By my reckoning, we’re now a couple of hundred dollars off the all-time high, in the real (inflation-adjusted) price of gold, in dollars.

My interpretation is that three months of Trumpism managed to do for Russia what 15 years of agitation by the BRICS countries could not.

By reneging on our international commitments, turning on our former allies, aligning ourselves with Russia, and giving an absolutely ignorant crew of knuckleheads complete control over tariffs …

… I do believe we’ve managed to destroy the dollar’s role as the key international currency AND cripple much of our industrial capacity.  In one fell swoop.

Restated, by setting large and rapidly changing tariffs, with no policy goal beyond making The Leader happy, we’ve slit our own throats.

It’s just going to take a few months for that to be completely obvious.

Putin’s ROI is beyond calculation.

Post #2124: Tax day bullet fee.

 

Tax day felt different this year.

I considered, then rejected, asking for an extension for filing.

Not because I hadn’t filled out the 1040 yet.  Not even because I owe a lot of tax this year.  Which, by my middle-class standards, I do.

Because it galls me to pay money to the incompetent asshats who are currently in the process of running the country into the ground.

It feels like a bullet fee.  (The fee that certain governments charge, to the family of an executed prisoner, ostensibly to pay for the ammunition used by the firing squad.)

Like I’m paying them, for killing my country.

But also because I’m confused about whom I am sending my Federal tax dollars to.

In the past, when the U.S. still operated under the basic framework of the Constitution, I was sending my money to the Congress.  (Even though the Treasury Department collected it).  That’s because the Congress determined how that money was spent.

But now, apparently, the President can pretty much do as he pleases, tax-and-spending wise.  Though I guess if it’s an income tax, it still requires an act of the Congress.  For now.

In any case, as I read it, with respect to your 1040 and April 15th, you can legally delay filing, but you can’t legally delay paying.  Or, at least, not you, the little guy.  The IRS form on which you request a delay in filing your return very specifically requires you to pay an estimate of the tax that is due.

So, if I want to stay within the law, being just a citizen, they get my money whether I file on time or not.  A filing delay is just a delay in providing the supporting paperwork in the form of a tax return.

The only way I can see not to pay, is not to file, period.  And after a lifetime of being a law-abiding taxpayer, I can’t see me doing that.

So I did my taxes on autopilot.  And Turbo Tax.

Held my nose.

And gave the Federal government my money.

And so helped them continue to kill off what’s left of the U.S.A.

Once you have paid him the Danegeld, you’ll never get rid of the Dane.