Killer Carbs

Dr. Robert Atkins said that carbs can kill you, but I never believed it. Not until August 18, 2007 when I saw the fact demonstrated in front of my own two eyes. Steve, hereafter known as HH (handsome husband), and I decided to head to the local bagel shop via bicycle. You’ve got to admit it, there are no carbs like bagel carbs. Toasted, chewy, unrepentant carbohydrates flooding the blood stream, bringing good cheer to muscle energy-stores everywhere. Or at least that’s my excuse. I really don’t think that the 2.5 mile ride from my front door to the bagel shop probably qualifies as an energy-store depleting event. But I digress…

It is unlikely that anyone living in America since the mid-1960’s is unfamiliar with the Atkins Diet. Controversial since its inception, it is based upon the premise that the food pyramid should be discarded. Atkins claimed that saturated fat was overrated as a nutritional hazard for heart health and contributor to obesity. Instead he prescribed a dramatic restriction in carbohydrate intake in order to switch the body’s energy source away from burning carbohydrates. He claimed that his dietary principles would increase use of stored body fat resulting in lower body weight, improved cholesterol and lipid profile, and lowered cardiac risk. Pork producers all over America greeted the Atkins Diet with open arms. Pork rinds…they weren’t just for rednecks anymore. In fact, those that I know who have used the Atkins approach have lost weight. They also report dreaming about mashed potatoes and pizza crust. In one particularly disturbing dream a giant baked potato chased the dieter through an endless maze of hallways. Revenge of the Spuds.

Now, in a stunning scientific breakthrough, I’ve learned that one doesn’t necessarily need to actually EAT the carbs to run a health risk. As HH and I made the gentle right turn from the road into the bagel shop parking lot, I heard an ominous crrrrrunch, then THUD from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see HH laying on the pavement. He was still in the riding position, both hands on the handlebars and feet clipped onto the pedals. Laying quite still. As I swung round I heard a moan. Good news from my perspective, CPR would not be needed.

HH wriggled his feet to loosen them from the pedals and struggled to his feet. I knew he was seriously hurting when he abandoned his beloved bicycle, Streak, on the pavement. "This must be critical," I thought. HH loves Streak. I know that in case of a house fire, given the choice between rescuing me or Streak, he’d be sure to hurrry back for me once the bike was safely out of danger.

He shuffled slowly to the curb with his head barely raised above waist level, right elbow and hand dripping blood from assorted road abrasions. The real problem? HH had landed on his right hip and leg…his bad side. The Hip that invariably causes physicians reviewing x-rays to say, “Oh boy! You’ve got some case of arthritis in there!” That hip just doesn’t move in the direction demanded by a sharp fall onto hard asphalt. Consider his hip = the Titanic, and the road = the iceberg. No contest. Our trip toward bagel carb heaven had just sunk.

In case you’re wondering what the worst part of the story is…..it was his birthday.

So read this as a cautionary tale. Apparently the mere intention of carb consumption can now be hazardous to your health. As for myself and HH, we’ve decided that this coming Saturday, we’re playing it safe. Oh, we’ll still go to the bagel shop. And we’ll still go via bicycle. But we only intend to consume some high-fat Atkins-approved product, such as cream cheese. That bagel underneath…it’s just the transport mechanism.