My Philosophy on Life and the Most Important Part of It- FOOD!

While a long post, the following explains the inspiration behind my relatively new philosphy on life that is the foundation for everything I contribute to this blog.

Ten years ago I was a typical American teen- overweight, underactive, and addicted to all things trans-fat. With our culture's obsession with supersized products, there was no portion control in my house. Whatever packaging food came in was what I considered a single serving...an entire pizza, a whole bag of chips, two rows of cookies...We never drank water, only soda. And gallons of it each week at that. We had some vegetables, though not nearly enough, and they were often prepared with butter or cheese.

Two weeks after turning 15 I found out that the strange lump on the back of my neck was cancer. I spent about 210 of the next 420 days (14 months) in the hospital getting poisoned with chemicals so toxic that the nurses had to wear gloves when anywhere near the bags of liquids that would bring me to the brink of death to give me life. I was wheeled down to the dark, gloomy basement where I was then burned severely every single day for 6 weeks in a room where no one else was allowed in, or if they were, they were covered in special gear to protect them from the radiation that will eventually kill me. During my 3- to 6-day almost-weekly hospital stays (one week for chemo, the next week because I needed to revived from the poisions and burnings, then one week off to gain enough strength to start it all over again), I happily slurped up any milkshake I could get my hands on and scarfed down food from every takeout place within about 5 miles of the hospital. And then I spent quite a bit of time eating anything I could get my hands on from the McDonald's that sits right smack dab in the middle of the hospital. To this day I cannot handle the smell of McDonald's and I have to try my hardest to control the instant nausea from one small whiff.

After surviving the poision, the radiation, the life-threatening infections, the incompetent doctors, and the extreme isolation, I resumed my life as a typical American teen. Though I was underactive before treatment, I did enjoy sports, especially swimming. Cancer, however, brought that to an end. By the time I got to college, I couldn't control myself around the constant supply of food and beer and cut out most physical activity outside of walking the short distance to my classes. In fact, I believe Jennilicious and I would wait 10 minutes for a bus to pick us up and drive us up the big hill that we were too lazy to walk up. Luckily my metabolism kept up with me enough, but I was overweight and utterly unhealthy.

When I went to graduate school I became involved in a research project examining news coverage of obesity. I poured over hundreds of articles to code who was cited as responsible for the obesity epidemic and what solutions were offered. (The article will be published this year in the Journal of Health Communication!) As I read each article I learned more and more about how important it is to be aware and in control of the things you put in your body. I slowly changed my eating habits to include more fruits and chose more lean meat and sometimes added extra vegetables into my diet. Internally, I appluaded how healthy I was becoming and felt really good about my efforts. While it was a decent start, I would eat gigantic portions all day long. Eating a banana is great, but blending a banana, 2 cups of strawberries, 2 cups of 2% milk, and a large helping of powdered vanilla mix and drinking that in 2 minutes just before dinner is not great. And, at the time I was living with someone who strongly influenced the food we bought so I didn't have much control (or thought I didn't) over how I ate.

I finished grad school, broke up with the boyfriend, and moved away to a new city where I knew no one. Because I was on my own for the first time in my life, I decided I finally had control over myself and I wanted to make substantial changes in my life. The hundreds of articles taught me a lot about nutritition and I felt knowledgeable enough to move on from my psuedo-healthiness to an entirely new lifestyle that promoted physical, mental, and emotional health.

My cross-country move was for an amazing opportunity to work for the National Cancer Institute where I learned that the poison and radiation that "cured" me would almost certainly kill me in the long run. In the ultimate irony, my cancer treatment will give me cancer. I'll probably suffer from heart, lung, and thyroid problems. I might develop osteoperosis and have the bones of an 80 year old woman by the time I'm 30. My ovaries, if they are even functioning properly now, may stop working and I might hit menopause by the time I hit 30. It became increasingly clear that I needed to do everything I could to give myself the best quality of life possible.

It started with a carton of soymilk. I'd read some articles about milk that questioned its place in our diets. Don't get me wrong, I love cheese. Jennilicious and I enjoyed many a giant bowl of queso (though I'm not sure there's actually any cheese in it) and cream cheese and sour cream formed the basis of most of the sauces I used to pour of anything I could. But I decided I'd phase it out of my diet as much as possible. At my new job several of my coworkers were vegetarian. Before that point I thought vegetarians were freaks of nature, much like the general population believes. Something about seeing other people not eating meat made it so easy for me to cut that out, too. Which left me, basically, a vegan. It wasn't overnight, and I'm still not 100% vegan. I eat seafood maybe once a month and very occasionally I'll eat meat or dairy or things that include animal products. People become vegan for a variety of reasons- for me it was purely health. Which is why I'm ok with occasional "slip ups." However, the longer I am "almost vegan," the more that I recognize and embrace other reasons for being vegan.

In addition to changing what I ate, I changed how I ate. No more enormous portions and fewer meals out. Since I changed my lifestyle in July of 2005, I've lost and kept off 30 pounds, awoken from the dark depression I suffered with for years, and become a much better person inside and out. I am hyper-aware of (obsessed with?) what goes into my body and how I treat myself. I choose to count calories and I choose to expend them. I choose to walk the mile to the grocery store and back with my groceries in tow, and I choose to take the dog on long hikes through the woods as often as possible.

When you don't eat meat, dairy, or processed/packaged food, you basically have to start enjoying cooking or find someone else who does. Luckily I found that spending hours in the kitchen on a Saturday afternoon was quite enjoyable. So I went from opening a package and nuking it to creating elaborate, healthy, tasty meals with my own hands. Over the past year and a half I've learned a great deal about cooking since I personally prepare 95% of everything that I eat.

That being said, I'm incredibly unknowledgeable about how to cook. All I need is a spoon, just a regular spoon. I own a cheap knife set from Wal-mart (which I've also given up because the place is evil) and the knives can barely cut through peanut butter. Luckily I got some much better knives that someone I know had just sitting around, but I'd be content to continue using my dull knives. Until this past Christmas, I did not have a ladle or tongs of any type. I don't have spatulas or wooden spoons and I didn't even have oven mitts until Christmas either. My pots and pans are hand-me-downs from my parents and are older than I am. There are no Pyrex measuring cups in my aresnal, only two sets of cheap plastic ones that seem to measure just fine. Expect cupcakes from me, but no cakes since I don't have any cake pans. I do have a waffle iron, though...it was a gift.

By nature I'm not one for following rules just because someone made them. Which poses a problem with recipes. I get inspired by any number of recipes and use them to create my own concoction. Lucky for me I don't have a particularly discerning palate because I'm pretty sure other people might be horrified at some of the things I make. I'm sometimes horrified. But I'll eat it anyway. I can only think of 2 things in the past year that I've made and thrown out. And 80% of the rest of it is really good and the rest is still pretty tasty.

So, this incredibly long post is my way of saying that my philosophy on life is to be healthy, be creative, and be daring. But don't be pretentious.