The Secret Nobody Told Me

Lawrence Toppman

I climbed on the scale today to register a final tally for the first month -- the first four weeks, to be literal -- and I've lost two pounds. I'll accept that as a beginning. But I've realized there's something about losing weight that no one ever told me: You have to be willing to go to bed hungry.

Like many Americans (and Winnie-the-Pooh), I'd been in the habit of having a little something just before bedtime, when my stomach gurgled about 1 a.m. My favorite thing was a slice of whole wheat bread with peanut butter spread liberally across it and milk to wash it down.

I've cut that out. It was a simple way to modify my intake, though I need extra will power to keep my fingers from twitching when my stomach makes impatient growls. I'm not so empty I can't sleep, and there's no harm in going to bed hungry.

Billions do, after all -- and not by choice. Maybe we should all be reminded more often of what they go through.