A few years ago, I was cruising along in my smug vegan lifestyle, when I began to notice some disconcerting changes in my body. I was thin, but really flabby. My muscles were weak. My joints hurt. I thought it was just due to age. I thought I just needed to work out more. So I revved up my running schedule to almost daily, gritting my teeth as each step jarred my ankles, knees, hips, and back.One lovely summer day in August I was trotting around the reservoir at my local park. I felt a twinge in my left butt cheek. I ignored it, of course, like I do pretty much anything physical. Within a few steps I was limping. Then I was hobbling. I barely made it home.
I toughed it out for a few days, thinking it was a minor aberration. One of my colleagues gave me a lead to a chiropractor. I made an appointment, thinking, ok, adjustment, massage, all better.
Fortunately for me, that chiropractor was also a naturopath. It didn't take long for Doc Tony to tell me that I was on a downhill slide to serious illness and death. Death! Whoa.
Stupid me, I thought I was doing a good thing, for my body, for the environment, by doing the vegan thing. I ate oatmeal, blueberries, tofu, vegetables, lots of soy milk, minimal sugar, really, I thought I had it figured out. So imagine my shock when he told me I had to completely rethink my diet. Doc Tony told me my muscles had atrophied because I wasn't getting enough protein. I was starving. Starving, in the wealthiest country on earth. By my own ignorance.
Apparently, my high carb diet, low protein diet was causing my blood sugar to spike--super highs followed by super lows. Plus I was severely anemic, and I had no B12 left in my body.
Blood tests confirmed Doc Tony's suspicions. He said (very gently), "Eat real food or die." If I wanted to live, the five evil food groups would have to go: corn, soy, dairy, wheat, and sugar. Corn! Soy? Oh boy. And no more pasta, rice, bread, or pancakes. No more lentils or beans. Only fresh, organic, and... wait for it: eat some protein. "You mean like eggs?" I quavered. "And fish, chicken, and some beef, too."
Oh no! There goes my vegan lifestyle, I thought.
And worst of all, what would I put in my tea, if I couldn't have soymilk? Argh.
I balked. I started eating eggs, but I couldn't eat meat. Bleh. I swilled protein powder mixed with rice milk. I ate peanutbutter dressing on huge piles of salad.
And boy, did I gain weight. About 20 pounds, all around my midsection. Doc Tony said that was normal as my muscles started to return. Eventually I realized I would have to eat more protein and fewer carbs if I wanted to lose the extra weight and regain my muscles. I ate my first chicken salad since the 1980s on Memorial Day weekend, 2010, at a restaurant near Portland State University. I thought I might have an adverse reaction, eating chicken after so many years chicken-free. I thought I might throw up, get diarrhea, expel something violently to mark the moment. Nope. It tasted ok, and I felt fine.
Now it's a couple years later. I'm ashamed to admit, my body loves to eat chicken. And fish and occasionally beef. Not once did I react negatively to eating meat, fish, or fowl. I absorbed the protein and made muscles out of it. And, I deeply regret that I wasn't able to sustain a vegan lifestyle. I hate that I support industries that slaughter animals for human consumption. I am filled with sorrow that animals die on my behalf, and that I eat them in order to sustain my life.
If I were a bear, I wouldn't apologize for eating the salmon. But I'm not a bear. Still, I'm not ready to be dead yet. I'm not very good at living, but that doesn't mean I am ready to give it up.
Update March 2014
I've got a massive case of cognitive dissonance. My conscience has finally caught up with me. How can I eat something that would run for it's life if it could? What to do, what to do. It is difficult to minimize the carbs and get enough protein when one is trying to avoid corn, wheat, dairy, and soy.
In the past few months I've stopped buying chicken and beef to prepare at home. I am eating eggs, salmon and tuna once or twice a month (I really hate fish), and I'm starting to explore quinoa, navy beans, and garbanzo beans. I've started a tracking system to monitor my calories and protein intake. Meanwhile, I can (barely) fit into my old Levis 501s, those unstylish relics from my past. A happy day for me will be the day I can sit down in those jeans and not feel like barfing. I know that day is slowly coming closer. Hopefully before I retire to a nursing home.
