I've only paid attention to the BMI and its classifications during the past ten years or so ... after I began spending lots of time on the internet.

My BMI ignorance happened despite the fact that I've spent over 60 years of my life dieting, which has included - from the 1960's through the present date - reading hundreds and hundreds of diet books as soon as they were published.

I didn't need the BMI to tell me I was fat, because our culture gave me that information in thousands of other ways.

It was only when I had lost a great deal of weight, and was setting my ultimate weight "goal" that BMI Classifications got my attention.  I then learned that - for my BMI - a "normal" weight is between 95 and 127 pounds. 

Since I spent the majority of my life - at a height of 5' 0" - around and above 200 pounds - with a high of 271 pounds,  for me to reach a weight of 129 was a fantastic success bordering on the incredible.  Therefore, I was not happy to learn that at this 129 number I was still considered  "overweight". ... and needed to lose more... and more... and that my goal should be to have a body with less and less substance.  In fact, I've sometimes thought that what our culture (including the medical profession) really wants in general, is for me to get small enough, and light enough, to disappear entirely.

I may write more about this at some future time, but for now, I'll share the following article:

How BMI affects emotional eating
          by Isabel Foxen Duke
                   of
     How to Not Eat Cake
     ...really fast, standing up, when nobody's looking.

I recently made a passing comment to a colleague…something along the lines of “BMI is bullshit.”

In the slightly patronizing manner that only an older, male, health professional can assume, he said to me: “I would be careful to make blanket statements like that…you don’t know all of the different ways that BMI is used…”

Weight control would seem to be a simple matter of calories in/calories out. Burn more calories than you consume, and your body will adapt by burning fat.

The pounds will drop away and you can buy new clothes, and stand a better shot at rewards ranging from getting promoted to getting a date. It seems an ineluctable law of physics, a Biggest Loser calculus relentlessly drummed into our brains by the American media. Hence the suspicion that dogs the obese marathon runner Mirna Valerio: If she runs so much, how can she still be fat?

“If controlling obesity were a simple matter of calories in and calories out,” says endocrinologist and researcher Dr. David Ludwig MD, PhD “I would be out of a job.”

“The calories-in/calories-out idea is ridiculously simplistic,” says Canadian obesity specialist Dr. Yoni Freedhoff MD, CCFP. “It's like a financial adviser telling an investor to buy low and sell high.”

Dr. Ludwig explains that weight loss, gain, and control are complex biological processes. “It's a combination of genetic, behavioral, environmental, and psychological factors, and varies tremendously from individual to individual,” he says. “In many ways, obesity is similar to complex diseases such as cancer.”

Dr. Steven Blair, P.E.D., the lead author of the Cooper Clinic studies who is now a professor in the Arnold School of Public Health at the University of South Carolina, agrees. "If you fashioned a hypothetical world in which every person ran 10 miles a day and subsisted on the same daily ration of carrots, you would still have a full range of body types, from svelte to stout.”

“Imagine our bodies as cars,” Dr. Freedhoff says. “They come out of the factory with various fuel efficiencies—an SUV's is always going to be different than a sub-compact's. How you drive definitely affects mileage, but the SUV is never going to burn less fuel than the subcompact.