Photo by Iñigo De la Maza on Unsplash
“I am not a vegetarian because I love animals. I am a vegetarian because I hate plants.” – A. Whitney Brown
With few exceptions, we all could—and probably should—take better care of ourselves. This thought occurs to me most every night shortly before I doze off on my couch. And pretty much the rest of the time, too.
It wasn’t always like this. There was a time when I exercised almost daily and seemed to have limitless energy. The high point of this existence came during the summer of 1988, when I was 20 years old.
That summer, I ran at least five days a week, always in the evening after dinner. Then I would relax in front of my parents’ television until it was time to go to bed and rest up for another day of bagging groceries (my job) and running (my summer obsession). By the time I went back to campus at the end of that August, I had dropped 20 pounds.
But one night, I was enjoying a summer rerun of The Cosby Show or ALF when I had a moment of panic. I HAD FORGOTTEN TO RUN THAT EVENING! How could I do that? For months, I’d been committed to my runs. Now, I had somehow … forgotten.
Then it occurred to me that, yes, I had run that evening. I was just in such good shape that my body didn’t feel like I had.
That’s a level of fitness I’ve been trying to recapture—with no success—ever since.
Mmm … pudding pies …
Thirty-seven years later, I’m no longer that 20-year-old who can lose weight while continuing to eat copious amounts of potato chips, pizza, and Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles chocolate-covered pudding pies (you could find them on grocery store shelves in 1988). I also no longer have time to run five days a week.
I’m a way-past-his-prime 57-year-old who sits too much, exercises too little, and has a surgically repaired shoulder and a fatty liver to show for it. As for my weight, let’s just say it’s not what it once was. Or what I want it to be. Or what my doctors think it should be.
The time is right to make changes—while there’s still time to do it.
My late father had his first major heart attack (we believe he had five altogether) at age 41 and his most serious one at 45. I’ve dodged those potentially lethal bullets so far, but I am starting to worry about myself.
Something needs to change. I need to change.
That means changing the way I eat. So, I decided to do something about it.
I decided to become a vegetarian.
The origins of vegetarianism
Often, in my blogs, I’ll offer some historical perspective on the topic at hand. But seriously, the history of vegetarianism?
Without Googling it or asking ChatGPT to make up something false that sounds true, I’ll just venture a guess that vegetarianism goes back to the first early humans who sucked at hunting.
Perhaps there were also early humans who were told by their cave doctors that they needed to watch their cholesterol levels and stop eating wooly mammoths.
According to Gallup and others, 4% of Americans identify as vegetarians, 1% as vegans, and another 4% identify as pescatarians. (For what it’s worth, the Pew Research Center says 1% of Americans identify as Presbyterians.)
I was surprised to learn the percentages were this small. After all, everyone knows that most people don’t keep their strict diets to themselves (“How can you tell if someone’s a vegan?” “Don’t worry. They’ll tell you.”).
And like most people, I know many others who don’t eat meat. I have a cousin who’s a vegan, a close friend who swore off meat after he developed a mid-life allergy to chicken, and a niece who’s a pescatarian. (Full disclosure: for a while, I attended a Presbyterian church.)
The relatively low number of these folks is also surprising given the multiple health benefits associated with eschewing meat. These range from lowering blood pressure to reducing the risk of diabetes and heart disease.
And that’s to say nothing of the obvious life expectancy gains for cows and pigs!
Something totally crazy
On a recent Saturday, with my wife, Amy, out of the house, I was left to fend for myself for dinner. Digging through the refrigerator, I found numerous vegetables that needed to be consumed before they went bad.
I determined to try something crazy: eating only vegetables for dinner.
I warmed up a cup of leftover baked beans and shucked and boiled an ear of corn. Then I sauteed a mixture of onions, peppers, tomatoes, and cucumbers in fresh lemon juice and Italian dressing.
And it was all delicious! What’s more, it felt like the beginning of a healthy new chapter!
Only it wasn’t meant to be.
What I learned
In the end, for a variety of reasons, my attempt at vegetarianism didn’t stick. But when I wasn’t eating meat, I was increasing self-awareness and learning valuable lessons.
Here are the highlights:
As a vegetarian, you just feel different
Friends warned me that, without meat in my diet, I would never feel completely full. I was also told that it’s not uncommon to feel slightly anemic and weak. I didn’t experience any of these negative side effects.
I did feel different. But I didn’t necessarily feel better. I don’t believe my blood pressure dipped. I didn’t have diabetes before I became a vegetarian—and I still didn’t after I switched to a no-meat diet.
It’s a myth that there are no good vegetarian options
As a vegetarian, you don’t have to eat just kale and tofu. During my flirtation with vegetarianism, I enjoyed many delicious meatless dishes.
Pop-Tarts. Mountain Dew. Microwave popcorn. These are all tasty non-meat food options!
Then there were Amy’s amazing homemade waffles—topped with Mrs. Butterworth’s syrup, of course. Tucking into the stack of waffles on my plate Father’s Day morning, I felt like I’d died and gone to vegetarian heaven!
Who says you can’t eat delicious foods as a vegetarian? Not me, that’s for sure!
Yes, the no-meat crowd is a braggy bunch
Above, I shared the joke about vegans who can’t keep their dietary practice to themselves. Well, I was guilty of this, too.
I announced on Facebook my embrace of vegetarianism. To inspire others, I posted a picture of each of my meals.
Was I being vain? Maybe. But I prefer to believe I was “spreading the gospel” of vegetarianism.
Just not for me
My big takeaway was the realization that being a vegetarian just wasn’t for me.
Yes, I was proud to have given it my best shot and gone all in for almost 48 hours. But those five vegetarian meals I consumed just confirmed what I had long suspected: I’m just not a vegetarian, at heart.
If you’re a vegetarian, a vegan, a pescatarian, or a Presbyterian, I admire you. I’m just not one of you.
Back to square one
So, here I am again. Fat. Out of shape. Needing to make changes to improve my health.
And I will. Starting tomorrow.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go find the leftover waffles Amy stashed in the freezer.
