A Lifetime of Eating

I love when I write memoir-esque entries. As if I've reached an appropriate age to look back and analyze anything. Here I am at the end of my days, pondering retrospectively about the meaning of life.

Make no mistake... I know I'm a spring chicken. Still, one of the biggest changes in my life recently - my diet - has got me thinking just how much I've changed in twenty-four years. My eating habits have gone on a rollercoaster ride, often taking sharp abrupt turns at unexpected times. So join me now as I chronicle the adventure, raising an imaginary toast to the plates I've cleared thus far and the food groups I inevitably still have to re-examine.

Chapter One:
"White Meat, Please" (Years 1-12)

Who had two thumbs and knew the words "soy", "tahini", "tofu", and "carob"? This girl! Since the womb, thank you very much. My parents raised my three older siblings and I on a half-vegetarian diet. In essence, only white meat. If it wasn't turkey or chicken, some soy product replaced it. Thankfully, I like the taste of every food ever so it wasn't a problem. As a human, you accept the world with which you're presented ... and my world was chock full of veggies, rice cakes, soybeans, and tofu everything. Cool, Mom and Dad, let's do this. The term "treat" was also redefined by my parents. First off, we had the Egg McMoses - a crowd favorite - which involved an egg, cheese, tofu and mayo between two buttermilk waffles. Sound gross? False. My mouth totally watered while writing that sentence. Then we had the infamous Tiger Milk bars which were our family's version of a Snickers. Found at your local granola stand, you could dive into one of these little babies for a savory taste of some natural carob, peanut butter, and nougat. Also completely delicious but judging by its equally high amount of sugar, not worth the deviation from regular person candy bars.

Chapter Two:
"Once Was Blind But Now I See" (Years 13-17)

At some point, my parents decided we were old enough to make our own decisions and venture out. So I embarked on a rumspringa of sorts, which involved trying out the phrases "Medium well, please" and "Why, yes, I will have a sixth Reese's cup". I started hanging out at people's houses just to raid their cabinets. Equally amazed and perplexed, I couldn't fathom this new world where people ate chocolate and marshmallows in various shapes for breakfast and a new group of Old McDonald's (unfeathered) friends were on the menu. Quickly, I considered Mrs. Butterworth and the Kool-Aid Man new friends. I felt like Charlie Bucket being set free in Wonka's backyard of goodies. No, scratch that. As I recall, Charlie was the restrained, responsible one who shared a single Twizzler with Grandpa Joe. If I had been let loose in there, I would've probably beaten Augustus Gloop to the chocolate river and eaten the Cool Whip out of every mushroom along the way. Anyway, it's obvious at this point healthy eating was not a priority. This became even worse by the time high school rolled around. French fries were often an entree. These were paired with a tall bottle of "Icy Lemonade", which I believe was once a stack of sugar cubes dyed yellow then liquefied so they would fit in a bottle. Then six packs of Welch's fruit snacks ("It's fruit!"), nine bags of Sun Chips ("French Onion! They're practically a vegetable!"), and I'd be on my way back to class. Hard to imagine, but the nutrition boundary was about to get pushed even further...

Chapter Three:
"The Freshman Fifteen Twenty" (Years 18-21)

 When I first got to college, I was panicky, socially awkward, and quickly retreated into myself. This translated to a semester of stress dieting and, contrary to the trend, actual weight loss. This stage didn't last long, thankfully. (Though the anxiety of dealing with crazy ass roommates would not subside until later, but that's another story.) Once I got into the swing of collegiate life, I succumbed to your stereotypical diet of fat, carbs and sugar. In a way, I'm glad I wasn't tracking calories or nutrition at that point because I literally had no other choice. If I was in the mindset to look out for myself at all, I would've had to forgo eating and wither away to nothing. One of my favorite meals at the dining hall was a tuna panini. Basically, they'd scoop a mystery mixture (75% mayo, 20% tuna, 5% ????) onto a buttery flaky white panini bread, smother that with as much cheese as space allowed, decorate it with various other accoutrements, then paint each side

with an oil-drenched brush, and smush it into a panini press until the flecks of lard were a perfect shade of golden brown. F***ing amazing. Then I'd top off the meal with a raspberry "iced" tea that was room temperature at best and had to contain my weight in grams of sugar. (Again, I'll reiterate, if I ordered a water, the dining hall workers would have pointed me to the nearest puddle.) Anyway, I'd jump into my dorm room bed and scarf this down without blinking an eye. The best, though, was night time. My roommates, and later apartment mates, and I would do "Half Price Apps" at Applebee's a minimum of twice a week. We'd finish classes for the day, someone would suggest Half Price, we'd all celebrate this amazing novel idea and pile into the car. As you might expect, these discounted appetizers did not include celery sticks and kale chips. We're hitting the ten o'clock hour and are elbows deep in fried chicken wings swimming in sodium and fat-flavored chicken quesadillas. Only time in my life I've experienced heartburn. Curious.

Chapter Four:
"A Weak Attempt" (Years 21-23)

After indulging in a lifetime's worth of crappy eating, I emerged from college with a diploma in one hand and a newfound resolve to turn things around. Gone were the days of burgers and late night pizza; I was going to figure this out. So I started wading through the sea of contradicting nutritional guidelines and trying things randomly. I wasn't looking to be perfect; I still believed in indulging in yummy foods to enjoy what life had to offer. "Quality of life!" I'd say, "Can't restrict yourself too much!" So while I was starting to hit the gym occasionally and read food labels, I was still a sandwich fiend and a suggestion to order pizza was a no-brainer every time. Carbs were whatever, sugar was "Yeah, I should probably stop at eight cookies", and no food was off limits. 

Chapter Five:
"Full 180" (Years 24-?)

Then, two months ago, came the most jarring upheaval of my diet to date. My sister has been eating Paleo for years - no grains, no dairy, no refined sugars, no legumes. She's made gentle suggestions to loved ones along the way. From the inside looking out now, I'm actually impressed that she managed to refrain from preaching full-on sermons during some of our family meals. Slowly but surely, she started recruiting on the DL. "Oh, Zach's doing it now." "Oh, guys, guys, she got Michele!" And as I stated before, my favorite foods were all on the opposite end of the spectrum from Paleo. I was carb happy. The idea of shunning pizza and sandwiches from my life forever was completely unfathomable. Impossible. Then one day I thought I'd give it
a try just to see what all the fuss was about. I went for about three weeks without any wheat, then thought I'd reward myself with a whole-grain pizza. HA. My stomach laughed at my naivete, then attacked me from the inside out. I texted my sister to report the pain; she said I had reached my "A-Ha!" moment. My reply? "Damn it." But from that point on, I've dedicated myself to the Paleo lifestyle. I feel lighter, cleaner, healthier. I also hit the gym five times a week on average. My system has done such a full turnaround that any legumes or grains causes an immediate reaction. Who would've thought? Certainly not me. I'm not super strict all the time; I'll have a damn cookie if I really want it. But gluten is out the window and I don't imagine it'll ever make a reappearance.

Who knows what the future holds? Guess I'll just have to live life and continue being surprised.