It's Wednesday. And, it's been forty days. Noah was in the rain for 40 days. Jesus was in the desert for that long. In the bible, the number forty is said to represent trial. I don't know. What I DO know is that I've consumed a LOT of water. A lot. Way more than I used to. I've added less sugar to my coffee and tea. Maybe 5 half-teaspoons over the last 40 days. Used WAY less olive oil, and MEASURED it (not the famous Rachel Ray "zhuzh" where a tablespoon becomes a pint.)
I used to be 'passionate' about cooking. Now, I'm getting...meticulous. Paying close attention to the additions of ingredients, and portions. Portion control: the bane of my existence, heretofore. "One cup of pasta? ONE CUP? Why dirty the plate? One cup of pasta is what I TASTE, when I'm cooking!" That was MY credo. Now...one cup of pasta looks pretty danged good. Pret-ty danged good. And ya know what? I'm vegan! I can eat...SALADS! Man alive, you can eat a wheelbarrow full of salad, before calories start piling up.Just watch your dressings.
So, last week, after a fashion, we decided to bite the bullet and get the medical forms completed. Yes, THOSE forms: for the YMCA fitness program. Our doctors filled out their forms, we filled out our forms, and we went for the training session. Then, we signed into ActivTrax, which guides us through an increasing-intensity workout, week after week. We just went for the first one, yesterday, and granted, it was a light-weight one. Low weights. Low reps. Don't kill y'self, you have time.
And, this is me on the fly machine, near the end of the workout.
No, I wasn't all sweaty. No, there weren't any gasps, and outbursts of breathlessness. And no, I didn't strut like a bantam rooster when I was finished. It was fun. It was exciting. I'm humbled. And we're ready, Dawn and I, to hit this thing, face on. As with the DAV 5K coming up, Saturday, we're quietly giddy. We've trained, we've walked, we've gotten our heads right with it. We're not sprinting for 5 clicks. We're not doing this "hell-for-leather." I have my phone loaded with "marching beat" rock music; it's a military thing. I love walking to that beat. Dawn just does it in her head. LOL, she's got a different drum she hears. We expect to take about 45 minutes to walk this thing. That's what my last 5k was, more or less. Six years ago. Those were the "No Butts About It" colon cancer 5K and the "Jingle Bell Run" arthritis 5K.
Those events were before knee surgery. And then foot surgery/joint replacement. And then *more* knee surgery. And *another* foot surgery. And cervical spinal stenosis. And psoriatic arthritis. They were also before the 254 pound shocker which led to me taking the fat-(_)_) bull by the horns: self-injected methotrexate and doubling up my Celebrex, eating food as FUEL, not a drug. Taking better care of the body God blessed me with.
I'm going to die. It's a fact. But I needn't rush things. When I went vegan, I said it was for health: I'd married a lovely, incredible, wonderful and appreciably younger girl. I had said that I wanted to last at least as long as her, and my lab work didn't indicate that to be possible, if I kept on the way I was going. So, I went "plant-based." People look at me (and the BIG shadow I cast) and say, "Wow, you don't LOOK vegan! Vegans are supposed to be skinny....oops." Yeah, because somewhere along the way, pasta became the other food group. Fried stuff became another food group (but it's fried in OLIVE OIL!) "Excess" became the norm. Crap, Oreo's are vegan. Potato chips are vegan. I took a perverse pleasure in taking so-called "good for you" foods and turning them into carnival fare. "But it's STILL VEGAN!" Big deal. When I ran these items through MyFitnessPal, I almost croaked. I heard a whisper:
Time. To. Grow. Up.
My cousin the Doctor will tell you. "Food is FUEL." And, we're top-fuel dragsters, brothers and sisters. We require the GOOD stuff to operate. The good stuff, not junk food, not fast food. Now, is ONE fuel the best for everyone? No, and again, NO. (And I'm going to catch hell from the anarchist vegans for this, but:) Find what works for you: animal-based, plant-based, keto, paleo...you decide. All I can tell you for sure is that, even doing it incorrectly, plant-based works for me. And...my family, without our browbeating them to death over eating meat vs eating plants, have slowly come to appreciate the taste, feel and benefits of some of my recipes. Our older boy LOVES my seitan nuggets, and ASKS for them on holidays, in lieu of animal parts. My MIL has gotten real schmaltzy with the plant-based chili, stews and soups. When the newspaper comes out with recipes, or the food magazines arrive, she's all, "Help me make this vegan!" We're making inroads, good people. But again, that's just us.
I've heard it said that if you want to change the world, start by making your bed. I do that. I make my bed, every day, and help our little boy, Aiden make his (okay, sometimes we forget his, for playing and getting off to school.) One thing has been accomplished, and no matter WHAT kind of day you've had, you have a nice, made bed to flop into. Little steps. Same with your food. Look at the makeup of it. Can you pronounce the ingredients? (Okay, let's remember that vitamin names are tongue-twisters, I'll grant you that.) Do you REALLY want to waste your (hypothetical) 2000 calories on Circus Peanuts? Red vine licorice? A bag of fries from that chicken place? I've learned how not to. And soda pop! Dayummmmm! There are a whole lot of empty calories in that stuff! Food is FUEL!! Do you put sawdust and water and questionable stuff into your gas tank? I didn't think so. Treat your living body the same way, if not better.
I'm living proof that one needn't be a fitness guru, be in top form to get healthier. Trust me, if you saw my x-rays and CT scans and MRI's, and the attendant reports, you'd gasp. Hell, *I* do. But, I'm better off than a lot of folks I know. I can still get out there and walk. I can still lift and press and such. I can hang out in the therapy pool. I won't back down, and neither should you.
Take the step. Make your metaphorical bed. This week's official weigh-in was 238.4#; official weight loss is 16#. (Somewhere, I'd miscalculated. I'm thinking it's between "naked weight" and "clothed weight." I'll get it right, someday. LMAO!)
Be well; practice peace, and I'll see you at the next one.
By the way, please take a minute to consider donating to the DAV 5K; the money goes to support over one million disabled American veterans per year. And, this Saturday, I'm plant-strong for my disabled brothers and sisters.
