Green Smoothie King

I am pretty excited about Rosie getting on the plant-based diet bandwagon, even if I am sorry it took a major heart attack to get her there.  I’ve always loved her and and I am willing to fight anyone who says there ever has been or ever will be a better live action Betty Rubble.  I’m not often moved to violence, but a passionate guy like myself can only take so much.

She and I have a lot in common.  I could relate to almost every honest thing she ever shared about her eating habits.  Many, many years ago Rosie told her audience that on long trips she would stop at a Waffle House for a regular sized meal.  Then she would repeat the Waffle House meal at several interstate exits in a row rather than ordering all 15 of the waffles she really wanted at once.  I was guilty of a similar sickness with fast food joints back then and hearing that someone else acted the same way made it easier to look at my actions and examine the problem more carefully.

Now that she is taking the plant-based plunge I have a really good idea of what she is going through.   Her change was motivated by fear, like mine.  There is still going to be some cravings to fight through and some re-education that will take place, but I am excited for her on this journey because I know what it will feel like for her on the other side.  I am excited that she is on the journey because of where it will take her.

My own herbiversary is only a month and a half away and I am loving life.  This morning I enjoyed my third green smoothie in three days as part of the impromptu “10 Day Green Smoothie Challenge” that was nonchalantly mentioned by the RA Vegan this weekend.   I was browsing my vegan Facebook Likes Saturday evening and saw on her page that she was chugging at least one green smoothie a day for ten days.  Challenge accepted!

In the last eleven months I have become a smoothie lover.  Usually, I don’t feel like eating any breakfast at all, much less a pile of kale and fruit drenched in almond milk.  Don’t ask me to explain the magic but somehow, blending all of that into liquid with a Magic Bullet makes it taste like an easily chug-able sweet milkshake.  Once I learned how to get the really fresh, raw food down in the morning I started benefiting from the blast-off energy every day.

For a while I blended berries and melon in my smoothies, but in the last few weeks I’ve started adding the previously unthinkable: carrots with kale or spinach.  This miracle breakfast is as green as a new-mowed lawn but tastes like an all fruit smoothie.  If you dislike the green leaf-ies but know how important it is to choke them down, then this could be the trick for you… AND if you’ve never had them first thing in the morning, I highly recommend it.  Remember Popeye eating his spinach?  His reaction was not a hyperbole.  Right after breakfast my own arms quadruple in size and my fists turn into anchors or anvils depending on how Bluto has pissed me off.  It makes driving difficult but it feels GREAT!

Pro tip: blend a date, fig, or a prune in the mix.  The sweetness factor goes up a few levels AND it is one more hidden super-food in an already spectacular breakfast.

Breakfast eleven months ago consisted of one or two quarter pound sausages, coffee with Splenda and half-n-half, and a hunk of cheese.  Eleven months later I am chugging green smoothies and loving it.  Do you hear that Rosie?  I am here if you need me.  We can our eat our way to another 50 years on Earth if we do it right.  This is exactly what second chances are for…

…and welcome to the revolution.

Day 205: An Open Letter to the Fat Guy I Saw at Hot Yoga in Orlando

When you give up the grilling of pork ribs in exchange for the steaming of kale, there are a lot of other changes that accompany the transition.  Personally, I find myself spending less time around an oak cooking fire and WAY more time loitering at farmer’s markets.

I also spend much more time reading about food than I used to.  My proficiency in the kitchen took a temporary dive.  I went from having a black belt in meat preparation to starting over at the kindergarten level of food identification.  Before the big change, I still thought a parsnip was a carburetor part and a persimmon was a general from WW1.

Exercise is another long forgotten acquaintance that this new lifestyle is leading me back to.  If you adhere to a strict Atkins diet or a strict plant-based diet, you will lose weight without exercise.  This is why they appealed to me so much in the beginning.  However, I have outgrown the belief that exercise is a fad that can be sidestepped on the way to good health.  Instead, I have been reacquainting myself with this old chum, because it is essential to reaching maximum health, not just less body mass.

Today, I’d like to stretch out of my comfort zone and post an open letter to a fellow exercise novice that I saw during my first yoga session.  I got the idea from reading an Open Letter to the Fat Girl I Saw at Hot Yoga in New York by Joshilyn Jackson.

Dear Fat Guy I Saw at Hot Yoga in Orlando,

Let me start by saying thank you.  I was the OTHER fat guy at hot yoga.  When I pulled into the parking lot outside of the Full Circle Yoga Studio, I saw droves of perfectly filled, very feminine yoga pants gliding to the entrance.  I, on the other hand, struggled to pry my own exercise pants out of my colon.  I felt very reluctant to actually walk into the studio.  Lucky for me, my very persuasive spouse was there to take me by the forearm and guide me into the very hot lobby.

Were you also amazed by the heat?  I was under the impression that hot yoga was a variation of pole dancing and strip tease style exercises.  Walking through the front door was a bit of a letdown, because the heat made me realize I was not there learning how to get my sexy on.

Did you also think the lobby temperature was the same as the studio temperature?  I did.  When I walked through the second door, my lungs caved in on themselves because of the Sahara like hot air mass that engulfed me.  It is hard to breath air that has obviously had all of the oxygen burned out of it.

Did you notice me when I dropped to one knee and grasped my suddenly non-functioning windpipe?  I saw you, and I think you were looking at me.  The sheets of sweat made it hard to focus, but it looked like you might have been having a hard time acclimating to the furnace-like temperatures as well.

When it seemed like I would be maintaining consciousness and I decided I was physically fit enough to unroll my brand new yoga mat, I followed my spouse to a open space near the back.  I saw you looking my way, from across the studio, as you fumbled with the shrink wrapping on your own new mat.  Did your wife also think mauve was the manliest color available?  I would have preferred teal myself.

It was nice having someone else in the room that seemed to struggle with the many different forms.  I saw you lose balance when you stole a glance my way.  We both flopped around a lot during that attempted recovery.  Do you remember?  It was during that one legged pose where we are suppose to put our hands together in front of us instead of held out parallel to the ground for balance as nature intended.  The pose we created that day could be called Flamingo in an Ant Bed.

It was my goal to focus my energy, control my body, and master my mind.  Was it hard for you to achieve these things with a Girl Scout as the instructor?  Was she even old enough to be a Girl Scout?  Campfire Girl, Brownie, or Girl Scout, she is obviously on her way to becoming a drill instructor for the Peace Corps in several years when she is old enough to join.  She had the whole room popping through poses so quickly I felt like we were in a mid-90’s boy band.

I think I saw you having the same problem I was having with the mat.  When dry, the surface has a sticky, tackiness that gives us something for our hands and feet to grip to.  However, when buckets of sweat drench the surface of the mauve mat it becomes a frictionless plane.  The experienced students had towels and mat covers to prevent this from effecting them while we all attempted Downward Facing Dog.  I peeked in your direction and it looked like we were both a couple of newborn foals trying out our new wobbly legs for the first time.

When the 50 minutes was over, did you also pat yourself on the back for not being carried out on a stretcher?  I saw you turn some ghastly colors while gasping for breath during the session, and I think you were able to see me do the same.  I was proud of both of us for making it, which is why I am so concerned about the uncomfortable moment we had at the end of the class.

I saw the shock in your eyes when you glanced my way during the mat rolling portion of our class.  Then I felt my own eyes widen.   Perhaps it was the extreme heat during the class, but it suddenly became apparent that you were just my reflection in the giant mirror against the far wall.  Were you also amazed to realize that you were only a reflection?  Were you hallucinating from possible oxygen deprivation too?

I hope this doesn’t change things between us my friend.  I felt a real connection with you and I hope that you will continue to attend these sessions so I don’t feel like the only fat guy at hot yoga.

Namaste you glorious bastard,

The Only Fat Guy at Hot Yoga in Orlando