In Other Words with Dave 

Have you heard about macros? No, it’s not short for macaroons or macaroni. I know—disappointing. Macro is short for macronutrient: the three main categories of nutrients you eat the most—protein, carbohydrates, and fats. And if you like math, you’re going to love macros because there’s a lot of counting involved. 

This might be the next phase of my health journey. I was blaming my age for the weight I couldn’t seem to lose until my friendly YMCA trainer pointed out the obvious: “Burn more calories than you take in,” he said, “and you’ll lose weight.” What? Mind. Blown. 

Alison and I have been strength training, cycling, walking, and playing pickleball too. But counting macros could be a real challenge. The problem? I love my snacks. 

Snacking is maybe the best part of being an adult. There’s no one to tell me no. If it’s 10 p.m. and I’m craving Triscuits, I have some. If I’d like to balance out those salty wicker squares, I chase them with some Trader Joe’s mango slices or a Nutter Butter. 

With the kids grown and out of the house, I no longer have to hide snacks or sneak out to the garage with my Pepperidge Farm Goldfish. Far from hiding, I even have a “snack closet.” Technically, it’s the pantry—but the easy-access shelves are devoted to my edible enjoyment. 

So here I am, a man with a snack closet and a membership at the Y. I’m not chasing “perfectly healthy,” I’m chasing healthish—strong enough to lift weights, smart enough to eat protein, and still human enough to have a Nutter Butter now and then.