COLUMBIA, Mo. • For Mizzou tailback Derrick Washington, it was giving up pork chops — or at least moderating them — and "fourth meal" at Taco Bell.

To receiver T.J. Moe, it's no more peanut butter and jelly sandwiches before bed.

And with quarterback Blaine Gabbert, it's about going green around his grilling, and his summer tweets were replete with photographic evidence.

"He really likes asparagus," said MU offensive coordinator Dave Yost.

And that's just a sampling of the budding fascination and enlightenment over nutrition around MU football, which this season will field what almost certainly is the most wiry — not to mention fastest and strongest — team it's ever had.

While football isn't called a game of inches because of waistlines, MU hopes winning the battle of the bulge makes a subtle but key difference.

"I see it in everybody's face, all leaned up," said Gabbert, the junior from Parkway West who whittled his body fat from 16 percent to 12. "What you put in your body is what you get out.

"So the more healthy foods, the better quality food you put in your body, the better your body is going to perform. And the better it will respond to the stress you put on it on the football field or in the weight room."

That's not necessarily a revelation, of course, nor does it reflect a change in philosophy or emphasis.

"We always knew that was something that we wanted," said Jana Heitmeyer, MU's director of sports nutrition since 2007, who works in tandem with Pat Ivey, MU assistant athletics director for athletic performance.

But the preaching gained credibility and momentum since the end of last season with the help of visual aides.

MU bought a DXA machine in 2007 that measures muscle, bone and fat down to the gram.

"It tells you everything in your body," MU coach Gary Pinkel said, smiling. "That's why I won't ever get on it."

But those raw measures didn't offer the context or resonance that came with visits from several slimmed-down Tigers now playing in the NFL, as well as talks Pinkel had with NFL personnel.

In turn, Yost said, when teammates notice key current players such as Gabbert and Washington taking it seriously, they say, "I can do that, too, so it's kind of become contagious among the team."

"All of a sudden, there's a little bit of a message here," Pinkel said, adding that, in many cases, "Losing that five pounds is going to make you quicker more than that five pounds is going to make you a better player."

Yet the movement has been less about weight loss than body composition.

Moe, for instance, has added 20 pounds to the 184 he was a year ago. Gabbert still is 240 pounds. Each reports feeling quicker than ever.

"We never talk about things in terms of weight, just because it doesn't matter," said Heitmeyer, an exuberant former gymnast whom players refer to as "Coach Heitmeyer."

If a player were told to lose weight, for instance, he might be inclined to simply reduce water or food intake.

"We want them to do it the right way," she said.

If the ah-ha moment for many was seeing or having relayed to them the changes in the bodies of the likes of Chase Daniel, Sean Weatherspoon and Ziggy Hood, Heitmeyer has had her own moments of realizing players were buying in as never before.

In her first few years, she said, she could walk through the training table area "and never see a vegetable on a plate."

"Now, there's colors everywhere; players are always eating fruits and vegetables. I think, 'yesss,'"she said, pumping her arm for emphasis. "The light bulb — I love the light bulb."

Not that the work is done.

Freshmen still are learning new habits, of course, and not all veterans may fully understand what needs to be done, or are processing where they stand exactly.

For instance, receiver Rolandis Woodland (Rockwood Summit) said his body fat is 2.6 percent.

"Nooo, it's not," Heitmeyer said, smiling. "He would be dead."

Even so, Heitmeyer said she appreciated the chance to review that with him. It's part of her nurturing role that encompasses all MU athletics and occasionally has had her fielding — and welcoming — late-night calls from an athlete wondering whether it would be worse to have a pizza roll or cheese and crackers.

Particularly at this time of year, and since her office is in the weight room, football consumes much of her time.

"I'm part of their team, I feel like; I'm giving all I have," she said, adding, "These guys are really my children. I feel like their mom, telling them to eat vegetables, stop drinking juice."

More gingerly, she adds, she presses them on hydration to the point of wanting to get T-shirts made up reiterating to make sure their urine is clear before they go to sleep. She's also a stickler about sleep itself as well as the importance of breakfast, among other matters.

"She's constantly in our ear," said Gabbert, who took to texting her pictures of his meals.

Lest she sound like a killjoy, Heitmeyer notes that there is no insistence on her part that athletes give up their favorite foods.

"I don't want you to feel like, 'Oh, I can never have that again,'" said Heitmeyer, who can't quit Cheez-Its. "It's just that you can't have as much as often. So it's everything in moderation."

The education seems most tangibly to have paid off for Washington, who was second-team All-Big 12 two years ago but saw his rushing average dip from 5.9 yards a carry to 4.6 last year as he recovered from a knee injury but played heavier at 220 pounds.

Now Washington is 213 pounds, has reduced his body fat from 18.7 percent to 14.6 and appears to be making cuts and lurching away from defenders again.

"I feel, like, a whole different gear," he said. "I was just naïve about it. ... Coach Heitmeyer, she led me in the right direction."