Suburbs Make You Fat

A new study has found that people who live in new suburban neighborhoods weigh more than people who live in urban or older suburban areas. The key difference is walkability, according to the authors, and they say modern zoning may be to blame. New suburbs are often built with car traffic – and not foot traffic – in mind.

To quote a WebMD article about the study:

Neighborhoods built before 1950 tended to have sidewalks and other characteristics that made them more accessible to pedestrians, including being more densely populated and having restaurants and other businesses nearby, lead researcher Ken R. Smith, PhD, tells WebMD. In general, newer neighborhoods offered fewer opportunities for walking.

How walkable is your neighborhood? Find out by entering your address at http://www.walkscore.com/. You’ll get your score as well as a list of destinations within a half-mile radius. Impressively, my neighborhood (Beverly Hills Adjacent) scored 89 out of 100. A “walker’s paradise” is 90 or higher.

While people may be surprised to hear this about LA, which is not known for walking, I am pleased to report that I hoof it to the following places: the dry cleaners, the mini-market, the pharmacy, the bank, the bookstore, the hair salon, the doctor, the nail salon and a number of cafes/restaurants. As a result, I do about 60% of my errands a pied. It’s good for the planet, it’s good for the body – and it’s a lifestyle I hope to continue when I relocate.

Applying this principle to a small town, however, could be a challenge. I see I would probably need to live downtown or in an older neighborhood. To have walkability, you need to be in the heart of things. Yet another factor to add to the list!

Why Again Am I Living in LA?

The latest census numbers are in, and Los Angeles (my current home base) remains the second largest city in the US. First, of course, is New York (8.3 million people). Third is Chicago (2.8 million). Fourth and fifth are Houston and Phoenix (tied at 1.6 million).

When I think about living in such a gargantuan metropolis (3.8 million in the city, 11 million in the county), I sometimes wonder what I’m doing. I think about: the outrageous cost of real estate (as much as $1,000+/square foot in some areas), the traffic (especially the misery of getting anywhere at rush hour), the insane drivers, the stress, the noise, the crowds, the $12 cocktails, the (occasional) rudeness and the endless cycle of development and sprawl.

When I think about leaving LA for a smaller city, though, here are the things that give me a serious pang: the beach (including playing paddle tennis at Venice Beach), summer concerts at the Hollywood Bowl, the brilliant independent radio station KCRW, the amazing diversity (at seven million, LA County has the largest minority population in the US), the superb restaurants, the emphasis on healthy/eco-conscious living, the fact that all movies open here and, last but not least, the country’s best (and most seductive) climate.

Case in point: It’s sunny and 75 degrees today. I am not running the A/C, and it’s mid-July. So let’s be honest. Summer is not a good time to contemplate leaving. But I’m going to try.

The question is: What size city is right for me? Under 1 million? Under 500,00? Under 100,000? Despite our recent love affair, could I really live somewhere as small as Eureka Springs, Arkansas (2,300 people)? Could you? Stay tuned as I "size up" this key factor.

Back in the Big Bad City

I am back in LA...and having a bit of culture shock. It's surprising, given that I was only in Arkansas for two weeks. But I guess it shows just how much I'd slowed down.

Here's the perfect anecdote. I walk out of LAX and get into a cab. The cab driver seems a bit gruff, but I don't think much about it. That is, until he floors the gas, peels away from the curb and nearly causes collision number one. I exhale and grab the door handle. Once out of the airport, he begins driving even more aggressively. Weaving through lanes. Slamming brakes. Accelerating maniacally. "Can you slow down?" I ask. I emphasize that I am not in a rush. Apparently this is a foreign concept, however. It just doesn't register.

Soon we hit traffic (it's not rush hour - it's just LA), and he grows impatient. Next thing I know, he goes completely helter skelter and pulls out into the lane that's moving, coming THIS CLOSE to clipping an SUV. I cry, "Watch out!" The SUV driver yells and gestures angrily. The cabbie screams back. Profanity flies, a fight atmosphere erupts, and the two men nearly come to blows.

At this moment, I realize that in just 20 minutes of being back, my blood pressure has gone through the roof. I'm tense and irritable. Big-city irritable. How do I know? It's the same feeling I have every time a car alarm goes off or those damn leaf blowers turn on.

Fortunately, the beach is the antidote to everything I just described, and I will be there all July 4th weekend. Help is on the way!