Where’s the beef?! A
question I found myself asking more than a few times over the past three weeks.
However, despite my whining, mad cravings for chicken wings, and a ridiculous
amount of salad, I’m quite pleased to say I’ve survived this task. Not only did
I survive, I’ve gained an appreciation for chick peas, and will likely
implement them into my regular feeding schedule.
I was often asked why I had chosen this particular task. There
are oodles of reasons, starting with being nicer to chickens and ending with
being gentler to the planet. Mostly, I just don’t think that the amount of
resources depleted just so I could have a burger is responsible behaviour. My
inner hippie was unsettled.
That being said, I also believe I am a carnivore at heart.
There is something primal about me that likes to sink my teeth into a bit of
beast. I have sharp pointy teeth for a reason.
When the miles pile up during my half marathon training, the amount of
meat my body demands is grotesque.
So, I’ll opt for a healthy balance. Non-training days will
have a much higher ratio of chickpeas to even out the livestock slaughtered on
my behalf.
I did find it challenging. Mostly because I think a major diet change needs a bit of planning and organizing. Browsing new recipes, chatting with veggie friends about their tricks, and buying groceries. My life spins so quickly, I seldom know where I'll be five minutes from now, so these things don't always work. I landed at a friend's place for dinner, then broke the news to him gently as he pulled out two pieces of salmon. I browsed pages and pages of menus searching for something veggie that was not "sauteed vegetables over steamed rice". I had toast and peanut butter for dinner more than once, simply because I can't plan ahead.
A number of interesting questions presented themselves
during this little experiment. A foody
friend tackled #21 with me, and pondered whether veggies cooked along side a
roast beef were fair game, as they were swimming in mouth-watering cow
juice. There was also discussion about
seafood, such as fish, oysters or clams… my rule was that if it had a face and
parents, it was out of bounds. But do clams have a face? I hope not… because I also had two delectable Caesars during the weeks. Perhaps
they just squeezed the clams gently to make the clamato juice, and lovingly put
them back into the ocean?
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