Bernard O'Shea: Five things I've learned about counting calories

Counting calories is like watching your bank balance in real-time — except the overdraft is biscuits, and the interest rate is guilt

Bernard O'Shea: "The science suggests that focusing solely on weight loss can lead to burnout. Focusing on health — including strength, sleep, and energy — yields better long-term results."

1. MyFitnessPal is not my pal

So, like every man who’s ever muttered the words “I think I’m in a cutting phase” while hiding in the car eating a breakfast roll, I downloaded a calorie-tracking app.

At first, it was thrilling. Logging things. Scanning barcodes. Feeling smug. Until I realised that MyFitnessPal had the passive-aggressive tone of a schoolteacher with a clipboard: “That snack was 847 calories. Would you like to log your shame?”

Scientifically speaking, calorie tracking works. According to a study published in the American Journal of Preventive Medicine, people who kept a food diary lost twice as much weight as those who didn’t. 

But I’ll also tell you this: people who didn’t keep a food diary were probably just enjoying themselves. If you’re thinking of counting calories, here’s my tip: pre-log your day. 

Don’t wait until you’ve eaten six biscuits to ‘guess’ how many calories you Clocked up. Plan your meals like a tight wedding seating chart. Keep the butter away from the bread roll. Keep the cheesecake well away from your mouth.

In the end, calorie tracking taught me something important: food is often an emotional issue. I wasn’t logging nutrients — I was logging every mistake I’d made since 1997. 

But once I got past the guilt, it actually gave me a bit of power back. Because knowledge is power. And apparently, so is protein.

2. Calories are not feelings — but they’re close

There was a moment, about two weeks into tracking my food, where I found myself shouting at a rice cake. A rice cake. It was 35 calories, but emotionally, it cost me my will to live.

You see, I had become what I swore I’d never be — someone who Googles “Is Haribo a carb?” in a petrol station car park. Calories had taken over my brain. 

Suddenly, everything had a number. Tea with milk? 20 calories. Walking to the shop for more milk? 40 calories burned. Getting irrationally angry that I’d wasted 20 calories on tea? 10 calories in rage alone.

I don’t do calorie guilt very well. I do Catholic guilt. And I have enough of that to power a small hydroelectric dam. Science says that when you restrict food, your body wants it more. 

It’s called the ‘what-the-hell effect’ — as in, you eat one biscuit, then go “what the hell” and eat seven more.

Here’s my practical tip: Use the 80/20 rule. Eat well 80% of the time. Then let the 20% be a celebration, not a sin. Life’s too short to turn down cake from someone who loves you.

3. I’ve become my own food auditor

I’ve turned into someone who does maths before breakfast. Who knows the difference between olive oil (119 calories per tablespoon) and spray oil (20 calories per sad squirt). I’m not eating food anymore — I’m playing a nutritional version of Wordle.

Nutritionists say food logging helps you learn what you’re actually eating — not what you think you’re eating. But I now know more about sodium content than I do about my own children.

Counting calories made me realise I’m not bad at food — I’m just bad at stopping.

4. Restaurant menus are lying to you — but you want them to

Menus with calorie counts are a relatively new concept in Ireland, but in the United States, they’ve been in place for years. A Starbucks muffin there is 620 calories. That’s the same as a chicken stir-fry. And I’ve never cried into a stir-fry.

Research shows that people tend to underestimate the number of calories in restaurant meals — by as much as 50%.

So, if the menu says 500, assume it’s 750. If it says “drizzled,” that means “bathed.” If it says “light option,” that means you’ll be hungry again by the car park.

My advice: Choose joy, not sabotage. Don’t order the ‘healthy option’ if you’re just going to go home and eat your child’s Easter egg. Get something you’ll enjoy — just maybe skip the starter and don’t inhale the bread basket like a Dyson on heat.

5. The goal is not thinness — it’s not crying in Dunnes

At one point in my calorie-tracking journey, I caught myself weeping beside the special offer yoghurts in Dunnes. It wasn’t the flavours. It was the realisation that I was doing all this — the tracking, the measuring, the boiled eggs — for one thing: to feel good in my own skin. And maybe fit back into those jeans with the button that now looks like an explosive hazard.

Now we have influencers, smartwatches, and people online with abs so sharp they could cut the dishes. And in fairness, some of them are helpful. But most of them live on açai bowls and filtered light.

The science suggests that focusing solely on weight loss can lead to burnout. Focusing on health — including strength, sleep, and energy — yields better long-term results.

That’s what I’m aiming for now. Not a number. Just being able to put on socks without making noises that sound like I’m re-enacting Braveheart.

Ultimately, calories are just numbers. They don’t define your worth. You are not a spreadsheet. You are a full-fat, richly marbled, occasionally crumbling, gloriously messy human being. Just try not to eat a full Viennetta in one sitting.

Counting calories didn’t make me a better person. But it did make me more aware. I still have days where I eat like I’ve just come back from an Arctic exploration, but at least now I know how many sins are in the biscuits.

And to whoever invented the phrase “empty calories” — have you tasted them? They are delicious.