I just
ate a bowl of cardboard. Well, it might
as well have been cardboard. In my
never-ending quest to keep my weight below cruise-ship tilting, and to attempt
to live past the grand old age of 2-years-from-now, and also to try to stem the
ever-growing number of aches and pains and body parts that have decided to just
pack it in, I am trying to eat healthy.
But that is no easy feat.
As I
poured the whole-grain cereal into my cereal bowl, I noticed that if I squint
just a bit, or take off my glasses, I could not discern the difference between
the cereal and the cardboard box it came in.
The cereal is a dark coffee-brown, with specks of something lighter running
through it. The cardboard is a dark
coffee-brown, with specks of something lighter running through it. I suddenly lost my appetite and gave in to a
powerful desire to eat food that actually had taste. So I began scouring the fridge. A leftover pizza, perhaps? Tuesday’s pasta? A tomato?
An onion?! But, alas, there was
nothing else to be had (because when Steve and I eat, we leave no morsel
untouched – when the trash man picks up our trash, I notice how he stares at
the pizza delivery boxes, wondering why they are all lick-stained).
So,
whole-grain cereal it would be, topped off with, no, not milk – I’m allergic to
milk – but with Almond Milk. Whenever I
look at the label, I question just who decided to name this concoction
milk. Are there tiny little milkmaids
sitting on tiny little stools in tiny little factories in Holland, pulling at
tiny little teats on the almonds to extract what must be miniscule amounts of “milk”
from them? And just how many almonds
does it take to fill a liter box? And
the taste! Oh, the taste. It’s not bad enough that the cereal tastes
like stale cardboard; I top it off with this thin liquid that hints of water
mixed with tree bark (not that I’ve ever eaten tree bark, but if you made a
liquid out of it, almond milk tastes like how I would guess it would
taste). I drank Soy milk for a long time
(you think milking an almond is tough!), but then I heard that it causes
man-boobs, and I don’t need any extra help in that department, thank you.
The
only saving grace of this horrendous breakfast is that it is crunchy. Somehow, the cereal companies have discovered
how to keep cereal crunchy in tree bark water.
All that crunching and chomping keeps your mind off the fact that you are
eating flavorless wood pulp. And it
takes a long time to chomp and chew all that wood and get it down your throat,
which actually has one other advantage: it takes 45 minutes to grind it all
down to small enough pieces to swallow, so that after all that time you feel full. But at what price? There is no satisfaction in eating tasteless
pieces of plywood coated with sugar. And
what about all that sugar? In my attempt
to eat healthy, and the cereal companies’ attempt to make a crunchy cereal, a
lot of sugar leaves the factory and enters my gullet. That’s healthy?
Steve
and I began this quest to change our eating habits over 25 years ago when we
were living in D.C. We listened each
morning to a Dr. Mirkin, who prompted his listeners to eat healthy and exercise
regularly. He got us to eat a lot of
brown rice and beans…a lot of beans – and we didn’t even notice when our small
circle of friends shrunk smaller and smaller.
Was it something we did?
We cut
meat out of our diets and ate lots of fruits and vegetables. And we did keep the weight off. But something about the good doctor began to
peeve me. Hard as we would try, we could
not live up to the colossally-high standards set by Dr. Mirkin.
Dr. Mirkin and his wife Diana (so smug!) |
Dr. Mirkin
was always bragging about riding his bicycle everywhere. Big deal.
If I was a rich doctor, raking in the cash with a lucrative medical
practice and supplementing it with a radio program and endorsing all kinds of “healthy”
products, I would have time to ride my bike everywhere, too. But we are working stiffs, and healthy eating
and regular exercise sometimes makes way for paying the rent. (I looked up Dr. Mirkin on the Internet,
recently, hoping he had met his doom crashing his stupid bike or being crushed
by a barbell that came crashing down on him.
But, no such luck, he is still healthy, still has his radio show (and an
internet presence), and he and his wife continue to bike all over the place,
putting me to shame still today.)
For
breakfast I have begun to buy two are three different cereals and mix them
together so as to make the healthy cereal go down easier. These days I eat half a bowl of some
whole-grain something or other, and half a bowl of super-sugar-coated-infused-with-honey-and-freeze-dried-syrup-corny-ploppers
(“They’re corny-licious!”). Healthy,
no? And if you sprinkle it with 14 tablespoons
of Splenda® sugar substitute, you have the added satisfaction of adding a
man-made substance that sweetens the mess all the more (I guess “Mary Poppins”
DID have some lessons to teach). I just
wonder what kind of cancer I’ll end up with.
Splenda®
is the only sugar substitute I can stomach right now (I’m still pissed off
about that cyclamate ban in ’69). We now
know that aspartame, the substance in Equal®, converts to formaldehyde in the
body. I used to use a lot of Equal®,
until I awoke from a 2-year cycle of migraines and realized it might be some
miracle-of-science sugar substitute causing my pain. It was.
I have not had aspartame in 10 years and I’ve had no migraines since. So now it’s Splenda® and now I spend my life
questioning every little ache, pain, and failed body-part for evidence of what problems
Splenda® might be causing.
My
problem is that aspartame is everywhere, in almost everything. Diet Coke, Diet Pepsi, sugar-free cookies,
sugar-free candies, diet and sugar-free anything. So I’m consuming a lot of it. When we go to the movies, I naturally want my
popcorn and Coke. But all that sugar can’t
help me keep the cruise-ship upright, so I sheepishly ask the person behind the
counter if they could mix half-and-half, Coke and Diet Coke, and voila! I’m fooling myself that I am eating healthy -
even at the movies! Instead of 64
teaspoons of sugar I’m only ingesting 32; I’m certain my liver thanks me.
And with the calories I save I don’t feel so bad taking advantage
of the 10-peso refill of that wheelbarrow-size popcorn, dripping with what I am
certain is real butter and not some oil-based flavored amalgam.
But
being the first meal of the day, I find it difficult to begin the day fooling
myself. It’s like awakening on New Year’s
day every day. I make my new day
resolution to begin eating healthy and to get more exercise. At least I can stick to it through breakfast –
some days.
This morning, as I filled my bowl
with the luscious brown cardboard, I snipped off a corner of the cereal box and
tasted it. With a bit of Splenda®, it
wasn’t so bad. I think I’m on to
something, here. The taste is the same,
it’s a lot cheaper (I have an endless supply just buying eggs and ordering
pizza), and just think of all that fiber!
My body is definitely going to thank me for this. And even if I run out of egg cartons, I can
fall back on the cereal boxes. I just
wonder what to do with all that cereal.