In a few minutes, I’m going to eat my last wheat for at least a week.
But if things go well — by which a large part of me means badly — it could be much longer than that.
Our shopping trip last night included the usual: a ton of vegetables, from parsley and dill to spinach, squash and cilantro and a few raw treats. But it also included the unusual: replacements for wheat.
Stuff with a dreaded set of words on it: “Gluten free.”
How have we come to this?
In part, it is in reaction to there being any layers of fat left on us. A raw diet — I’m sure, even with weekend cooked meals, we are at 80% or more raw — combined with four to six days of Ashtanga a week should be stripping every tinge of flab away, right?
But that last little bit is stubborn. And, after reading all about the horrors of wheat (talk about a wonderful friend betraying you!), we thought: Is that the missing piece?
Ah, who am I kidding. I want this to sound like a communal act so I can point fingers and lay blame elsewhere.
It’s my idea. And, between the two of us, I’m definitely the one who loves bread. Loves. It.
And in a few minutes, the last piece of bread is going to enter my mouth.
We are following, essentially, the same path that Bobbie first went down with her raw diet. Give it a week or so, her doctor said. And that week has become, what, a few years now.
Even as we were shopping last night, and I was trying to think what possibility could replace my raw almond butter sandwiches — on flax and sunflower seed bread — I asked Bobbie: “Isn’t the Ashtanga supposed to allow us to eat what we want?”
“It’s the Ashtanga that’s got you eating like this,” came her reply.
So it is. One of those reasons not to do Ashtanga, I guess.
We’ll see what this little tweak to the diet does. I’m anticipating, at the very least, its making me incredible cranky.
Posted by Steve