The Road Less Travelled (Reflections on an "Extreme" diet)

Last night someone told me, “Your diet is extreme.”

At first I agreed.

At first.

Let me give a little background.

I've known this guy for over 20 years. He's seen many phases of evolution in me, and it's noteworthy that we have a banter-rich relationship. We've been friends for years, with long stretches of time between when we talk or see each other, but when we reconnect it's almost always easy - we get each other's sense of humor and have a long history of teasing each other about our differences.

In high school I left the "normal" public high school to go to an audition-based Arts High School. Predictably, I was in the music department. He's embarrassed that he used to call it Fag High School, as he fancies himself more open-minded and accepting now.

But when it comes to food, maybe not so much.

Many of you know, but for those who don't or those of you who want a refresher, I eat a diet that is, in fact, unique. Webster says: Unique: different from others in a way that makes something worthy of note.

Truth is, I probably eat a more diverse, but similar diet to our great-grandparents, in that the majority of my foods are home-cooked and based in ingredients that look very close to how they came off the vine, tree or out of the animal or ground.

In other words, about 99% of my diet consists of foods that are unaltered and unadulterated. Food from animals comes from happy animals - those who are free range, eat diets they were meant to eat (grass-fed cows, free-range chickens), and animals who are most definitely not tortured! When they are altered, they're usually done so in a specialized, non-toxic and low-temperature environment. Or they’re cooked by me or someone I know. A large portion are eaten raw (especially farm-fresh eggs, yes I eat them Rocky-style or in a blended protein shake). The cooked ones are usually foods that are hard-to-digest when raw (like potatoes cauliflower, and broccoli). Lately I’ve been grinding wheat and baking my own bread. In lieu of that, I buy organic bread that's higher in protein, and has fewer than 5 ingredients.

Sound confusing? Allow me to expound.

Here's a list of things you will find me enjoying on a regular basis. Everything is either organic or better. I don't care about the certification, I care about the integrity of the farmer and farming. No pesticides (other than natural measures like mint and hot peppers), non-depleting, often biodynamic, utilizing crop-rotation, no torture/mistreatment of humans (pesticide use it's side-effects & the sometimes resulting cancer) or animals.

Raw Milk

Raw Butter

Raw Cream

Raw Honey

Apples

Raw Cheese
Free-Range, Organic Eggs (kept at room temperature and eaten raw - like Rocky!)

Broccoli (lightly steamed or sautéed)

Cauliflower (lightly steamed or sautéed)

Seared, Hormone/Antibiotic-free, organic, grass-fed steak

Uncooked Hormone/Antibiotic-free Italian Ham (Prosciutto)

Potatoes

Cashews

Pumpkin Seeds

Almonds

Home-made Hummus

Carrots

Celery

Cucumbers

Tomatoes

Lemons

Kale

Brown Rice

Brown Rice Pasta

Fresh-ground Wheat Bread

Grass-Fed Whey Protein (One World Whey)

Strawberries, Raspberries, Blackberries, Blueberries

Salads that include:

Spinach

Super-food Plus (Dr. Schulze, link)

Sprouts

Carrots

Onions

Olive Oil

Raw Apple Cider Vinegar

Cayenne Pepper

Raw Honey

Pink Himalayan Salt

How does this list seem to you? Extreme?

The conversation last night with my friend took place in front of a group of about seven people, all people I've known for more than 10 years. Three were most vocal and were saying things like: how do you know something’s really organic (i.e. why bother eating organic) and what about pollution in the air – isn’t that just as bad as pesticides? The main theme was... the food you eat is too expensive, too extreme, and I like my fast-food, cigarettes and soda-pop and if I die younger because of it, so what!?! It's worth noting that everyone, with the exception of two who have grown children, have children under the age of 13.

Of everyone present last night, I was the only one who eats any of the above foods on a regular basis. They’re all nice people, including the protagonist, but it felt like they were singling me out for being different. (Please refer to definition of unique above.)

This group eats a more standard American diet including regularly consuming fast-food, deep-fried foods, and a large daily dose of soda-pop, refined sugars, processed and hormone-treated meats, packaged foods, processed flours and all kinds of things you can’t pronounce. Two women in their thirties who were present (but mostly quiet, interestingly enough) probably eat a more health-conscious diet, but overall, they were a good representation of American people and how Americans eat.

I don’t really talk to or question any of them about the foods they eat, but they notice that I don’t usually partake in eating their food save a small taste now and then. Last night I shared many things with them, answering questions and trying to explain why I make the choices I do. I was pretty calm throughout and explained about my research into GMO (Genetically-Modified-Organisms) foods creating infertility and premature death in laboratory tests with hamsters after 3 or 4 generations. I also explained that pesticides are much more damaging to crops than pollution in the air; many pesticide farm workers have come down with cancer and diseases that their organic counterparts are free from. In fact, The National Cancer Institute note on their website that farm workers using certain pesticides have an increased rate of cancer (cancer.gov link). I also explained that I’m noticing a lot of women in their late 20s and early 30s who are having a difficult time getting pregnant. That is troubling to me.

I explained that my body feels good when I eat this way.

But I didn’t say the following:

I know what my food is.

I know the ingredients that go into my food.

I can pronounce all of the foods that I eat.

Can you?

I love the taste of my food.

I don’t feel heavy, bloated, stuffed or regret after I eat.

It has been two years since I've had a cold or flu. I've been distinctly eating this way for just over two years. (Prior to that I was into heath food and experimented with health, vegan and vegetarian eating, but feel the best on this food plan.)


I don’t have many of the ailments my peers have, including Obesity, Crohn’s Disease, Diabetes, Cancer and other digestive or autoimmune disorders. Statistically, I’m much less likely to have any of these things, additionally Strokes and Heart-Disease later in life. The age at which people are contracting these things is getting younger and younger.

Am I immune?

Probably not.

I cannot predict the future and don’t know what I may face in my own health. But I make choices based on research, observation, and my own life experience with what helps my body feel good, not my emotional state, but my body.

When I used to eat a more standard American diet, I often felt heavy, bloated, heartburn, constipated, stuffed or regret after eating.

Aren't Diabetes, Obesity, Crohn’s Disease, Cancer and Heat-Disease are extreme??

And I think it’s no coincidence that the above things have increased exponentially in the last 30 years, and are starting at a younger age, concurrent with the ubiquitous fast-food and heavily processed-packaged food industries.

We’ve never seen the amount of obesity or diabetes in children that we are seeing today.

Diabetes is so pervasive in children, the CDC renamed it Type 2 Diabetes:

Type 2 Diabetes is a metabolic disorder resulting from the body's inability to make sufficient insulin, or properly utilize the insulin it makes; Type 2 is usually caused by poor diet, weight-gain and obesity. (Sources: health-doc.com and the CDC.com)

Think about this. Type 2 Diabetes used to be called Adult Onset Diabetes. They had to change the name because so  many children were coming down with it!

Never before have we seen children with obesity and diabetes to such an EXTREME amount, we not only had to rename the disease, it’s also likely our children will die at a younger age than their parents.

That, to me, is extreme.

EXTREME.

So I choose another path.

Last night, I really felt how much I’m on the road less traveled.

It was a bit lonely.

But the ground of my path is firm.

Yelling - One of the Highest Forms of Compassion

Lately I’ve been watching Kitchen Nightmares with Chef Gordon Ramsey, who in my opinion, does for wanna-be successful restaurants what Simon Cowell does for wanna-be pop singers...and that is give them a serious dose of honesty – delivered fearlessly and without restraint. Personally, I like the honesty of Ramsey (and Cowell), not only because I usually agree with them, but because I admire how effortlessly Ramsey (we'll cover Cowell in a future blog) handles confrontation with stubborn, defensive, and clueless chefs and restaurateurs. I find myself wishing I could handle confrontation more like Chef Ramsey. It makes me curious about his upbringing and family life. In Ramsey’s home, is it copasetic and even encouraged to raise your voice during a discussion? I’m sort of fascinated by what his family dynamic might be like. Maybe he just learned it in the kitchen. Who knows.

I suppose it’s worth mentioning that my family is not a yelling family. In fact, my father’s side is fully non-confrontational to the point where they’ll completely ignore an elephant in the room to avoid making waves. However my father has more boldness than his mother, in that he handled confrontations while teaching and coaching (35 years of the former, 25 years of the latter) with relative ease. My mother’s family, while generally not very confrontational, has a bit more fire in them, being a blend of Serbian and Russian, two semi-confrontational cultures (though I believe we having nothing on Latinos). I also never witnessed my parents yelling at each other. Something I feel grateful for now because it’s not a default that I readily go to when in arguments with my beau Marcus. Though I might not have learned how to verbally spar from my parents, I did learn how to fight for what I believe in and for what’s right, as my parents taught me that on a constant basis throughout my childhood.

The background is to bring you to this: For the first time in my life, I’ve yelled at my father. I have to tell you, it’s a bit uncomfortable for me, but still, I feel justified.

So maybe that’s it with Ramsey. He feels justified in his yelling at these chefs and restaurateurs who are so reluctant to take responsibility and create change in their businesses that he’s their loud, living, in-their-face wake-up call.

Because that’s what it is for me with my father. I feel justified yelling at him. Here’s why: He’s pre-diabetic. For anyone who knows anything about this, you know that for a seventy-one year old man (for a man at any age, really, but especially a bona-fide senior citizen), being pre-diabetic is not a good prognosis. The human body seems to handle semi-high blood sugar for about ten years, but once we pass the ten year mark, things start to go. My father, true to form, doesn’t really want to change anything in his diet or lifestyle. The changes he has made are sort of half-assed. The problem, I think, is that besides being overweight, my Dad feels generally all right. His weight-gain occurred primarily since he retired 15 years ago (since he worked out and ate less as a physical fitness teacher and football coach). But slowly over the past 15 years he’s gained weight and grown more sedentary. But they (they = reporters, doctors, the powers that be) call diabetes The Silent Killer for a reason. There are often no obvious symptoms with diabetes, even though complications from diabetes can be blindness, amputations, and usually irreversible coronary artery disease (which can lead to heart attacks and strokes).

So I feel justified yelling at my father because he didn’t really change much when I just spoke with him. Fortunately, I’m not alone in my fight as I imagine this would be much more difficult if I were. My boyfriend Marcus is a health and nutrition expert, and much-like Ramsey, is not afraid of confrontation, so we take turns talking to and sometimes yelling at my father. My mother, while not yelling at him, is making him healthy, healing foods to eat, but between my Mom’s healthy and Marcus sanctioned meals, my father still goes to some of the bad stuff.

Today’s yelling spell at my father was due to my mother’s report that he recently ate Kraft Macaroni & Cheese and a tuna-salad sandwich. Part of my rant was, “Dad, Kraft mac n’ cheese and a canned tuna sandwich?!? They are the bastards of pasta and fish. How about some organic pasta and the good, organic cheese (unpasteurized) that I know you have at home, or getting fresh tuna from the co-op?? But no, you have to eat the bottom of the totem pole of pasta and fish. Come on, Dad. You know better.”

But at this point, his taste-buds and eating are so habitualized, that he isn’t even aware of what he’s putting in his mouth and how it’s contributing to his impending diabetes. For example, the boxed mac n’ cheese has a higher glycemic index than a can of coke. Think about that. Mac n’ cheese spikes your blood sugar more than drinking a can of regular coke. Seriously. And sandwich was surely loaded with unknown sugars, what with the high-fructose corn-syrup spiked mayonnaise and the white bread that undoubtedly comprised the tuna-fish sandwich.

But what does this yelling mean in the big picture?

Though uncomfortable at times for all parties, I actually believe that yelling at my father is one of the highest forms of compassion. True compassion is fighting for the highest good, even when it’s uncomfortable.

I selfishly want so badly for my father to live long and healthy, that I’ll resort to yelling my truth to him, in the chance it’ll get through his thick, stubborn skin.

Which is part of why I like Chef Ramsey. He wants so badly for these people to have what they claim to want, that he’s willing to exert the effort and frankly, balls, that it takes to speak loudly and fiercely, the truth about how they’re f%*king up their restaurants.

Could there be a more quiet or gentler way of getting across my point or Chef Ramsey’s? Probably. Though I suppose it wouldn’t be as entertaining television in Ramsey’s case. But in my life, yeah, I suppose if I were more Zen, I might be able to find a way to get my point across without yelling and with more finesse and subtlety. But until I attain this Zen-state, I’m going to throw anything I have in my arsenal at my father about his health. Because as long as he’s not wiling to fight for himself and his health, I’ll fight for him. I can handle being a little uncomfortable, and so can he.

The irony is, I learned this lesson on true compassion and fighting for the highest good from my parents. Guess my Dad should’ve known it might come back to bite him on the ass. But Dad, I promise you... you’ll thank me some day.

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