What would you eat on the last night of your life?
Do you have it planned? Do you know the menu?
On the last night of my life…my OLD life, I eat this:
It’s two eclairs, shorter than my little finger, on a tiny plate. I bought them frozen, and they taste like sawdust with a sprinkling of chocolate. That’s probably what they are.
In the interests of full disclosure I will say this: I did not eat two. I ate many. They all tasted like sawdust, and I ate them anyway. Because that is what I do when I’m getting ready to start a diet.
It is a plate of greasy, homemade food. Fried pork chops, corn, peas, biscuits and gravy. I don’t make gravy. The last time I did so was probably five years ago. That stuff’s just BAD for you!
So why am I eating sweets and greasy food?
This: I’m going to simplify my life in a big, big way…in one of those big ways that might make it more complicated for a while. 🙂
I’m going vegan.
Sound too hippie for you?
Let’s put it this way: I am making the shift to a plant-based diet. I’m not changing my religion, or telling anyone else what to eat. I’m not going to throw ketchup on people who wear fur. I will continue to bathe regularly, shave my legs and wear shoes made of leather. I’m not going to do anything different at all except…
Stop eating meat. Or eggs. Or butter. Or anything else that comes from animals.
While I’m at it…I’m dropping sugar.
And Diet Pepsi.
Let’s have a moment of silence for Diet Pepsi.
For me, Diet Pepsi is its own food group. It makes everything else taste better. It’s bubbles have delighted my nose and throat for decades. It provides my other basic nutrient…caffeine. It doesn’t have calories and it’s absolutely lousy for you…how many things can you say that about?
So long, Diet Pepsi.
And since we are dropping things anyway, there goes gluten. Wheeeeee…..out the window. No bread, no sandwiches (except for the occasional one on gluten-free bread,) no cookies, no cake, no biscuits, no doughnuts.
(Ooooh. Another moment of silence for doughnuts, please. And any of you who have stock in Dunkin’…it WILL be dropping, so this is your heads-up!) Nothing at all made with wheat will touch my lips.
Or teeth. Or tongue.
Why? Partly because of my own health issues. I don’t do well with gluten, for example, and I drink entirely too much Diet Pepsi.
Why not just eat less and exercise more?
Why not do something more moderate?
Because I’m not just a little concerned about the size of my midsection, I’m concerned about my overall health. I don’t like all the aches and pains that are cropping up. I don’t like it when there just isn’t enough energy to do what I want to do.
And I’m aging. Eleven months from now I’ll turn fifty.
Fifty is an age where things can really start to happen. It’s the age where doctors start to listen a little more closely to the thumping of your heart. They recommend a colonoscopy. They get a little more strident about your need for mammograms. They demand blood work and gripe about triglycerides and a1c numbers.
All because youth is no longer in your favor.
And my husband is even older. I’d like for both of us to have as much energy, strength, and overall happiness as we can.
This isn’t forever. I’m making a commitment to stay vegan and “clean” (no sugar, Diet Pepsi, etc.) through the end of the year. That’s two months. After that I’ll re-evaluate and see what I think my body needs to stay healthy.
It’s hard to say no to vegetables. I’m gonna say “yes” to every fruit and veggie I can get my hands on. I’m going to improve my digestion, brighten my skin, and hopefully get a little of this spare tire off of my belly. I’m going to feed myself as many micronutrients as I possibly can, shoving in superfoods like…well…like candy!
So yeah…that spare tire thing. What do you call yours? That extra roll around your middle that plopped down and made itself at home while you weren’t looking? Most of us have one. Those of us who have it hate it, but we name it to keep from crying.
My daughter used to call hers “Pudge,” after the fish in Lilo and Stitch. I’ve heard them called a “food baby”–because it feels like a pregnancy. I’ve seen people make them talk by squeezing the fat together, pat them lovingly, and even smack them as though to make them behave.
I’m tired of mine. I’m tired of hiding it under carefully constructed clothing, worrying about it, wishing it would go away, and not being able to keep my pantyhose up because my “Pudge” is too round.
So this is the last day of my life…as an omnivore. In my new life, I’m a vegetarian.
The last day of my old life, I ate fats and sugar and salt. I felt heavy & logy and miserable.
On the first day of my new life, will the low-fat vegan me feel better?