Recent trips to medical facilities have rattled me somewhat- I feel like the pace of medical intervention in my life is increasing at a rate with which I am rather uncomfortable. My GP wants me to come back for a blood pressure re-check, because it's now officially elevated. My journey into the heart of darkness hammered home the reality that I have too much body fat; it's actually blocking the free movement of air to my lungs. This is not trivial; it affects everything from my sense of hunger to the health of my heart to my ability to think.
How I'm dealing with it is two-fold- one is exercise, which affects something major that happened to me this year that I haven't been ready to write about until recently (Labyrinthitis, I'm writing some posts about it right now). The other, the subject of this post, is my diet.
I have some issues with food. On one hand, I am an obsessed foodie who is always looking to stimulate my palate. On the other, I am an emotional eater. This has been pretty well documented (here for example). And they tend to work together to sabotage my attempts to eat better. Sure, I eat Bologna and American cheese sandwiches because I have abandonment issues; but it's German Bologna and thick cut sharp American on real sourdough, if you catch my drift.
Getting in there and sparring with those two formidable enemies are my waistline and reason, trying to plan a diet that works but doesn't drive me crazy. It can get ugly. Very ugly. What I am trying now is appealing to something that feels like an old arch-nemesis- boundaries. If I had a contest for supremacy among my competing personal weaknesses, lack of discipline would be a serious contender for #1. Boundaries are always ready to debate; they could answer the questions my lack of discipline constantly asks. I've decided to let them try. If my lack of discipline whispers "wouldn't we like a juicy burger" in my ear, my new boundary replies, "is it vegan? no? then shove it." Although I admit there is a chance my boundaries will say yes to fries. That's a delicious consequence I'll just have to occasionally endure.
Avoiding bad stuff and choosing good stuff is not easy when the goal is vaguely defined. Confining my intake to veganism makes some choices, not all, but most, quite definite. No longer do I have to ask "is this cheese lowfat?" or "is this a lean cut of beef?" Instead I just ask, "is it made of animal products?" The answer is usually clear, though the miracles of modern food technology constantly threaten to make it more gray (is test tube meat grown in a lab really meat?). But I can keep it pretty much black and white by sticking to things I know I can eat: vegetables, fruits and grains. Interestingly, I violated this rule just this morning- There's no vegetable field where I can pick the contents of my breakfast sandwich of Morningstar sausage and Daiya vegan cheese. Which, by the way, was very tasty. So, it isn't going to be 100% crystal clear, and I can't stop reading labels; that's ok, I'm a foodie, I like reading labels.
There are multiple benefits of veganism. One is the drop in saturated fat, which is the main cause of atherosclerosis. Another benefit is the decrease of caloric density- I'll feel about as full, but consume fewer calories. Now, I could easily turn this into a carbfest and never lose any body fat. But that is one other boundary I'll be setting up for myself- whole grains only, unless it's sourdough bread, which studies indicate does not spike insulin levels. I won't gorge myself on it, but I won't feel guilty eating it, either.
It's a challenge. I need challenges right now. This is a part of my life that has been allowed to do what it pleases for the most part. This is my line in the sand. It remains to be seen if I come back in a few months healthier, or just to kick the damn line to pieces and find another line to draw.
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