Tuesday, March 21, 2006


My very disciplined brother recently dropped his (inherited) cholesterol down. After his scare, I had my cholesterol checked and sent him this:
Got my bloodwork back.
Cholesterol at 248.
Did I beat you?

To which he replied:
198, you win. Exercise, cut out the fast food, lose the butter and cheese, and blame mom.

Animal fat, cheese, butter, dairy, eggs...
Looks like I am to be an exercising Vegan again.
I view this move with the trepidation of knowing the discipline it takes to control my diet, and the weird, obsessive mindset that food control requires. I become an obsessive, eating-disordered witch. I find a joyful (hedonistic?) view of food to be much more mentally healthy, just apparently not physically healthy. Forget eating healthy: How does one think healthy?
Sometimes we can't blame our genes for all of our problems. Although cholesterol is apparently genetic, I can't blame Mom as my brother laughingly suggests. I have to blame myself and the process I have been through to completely reject the control, the obsession bordering on eating disorder, that I was accustomed to as a ballerina teenager. It all became unnatural, unhealthy, and just too much work. I went completely to the other extreme when I stopped dancing and dieting and went to France to cook, later making a living as a pastry chef surrounded by ice cream (mmmmmm... ice cream...). By rejecting any control and all that stood for, I dropped into the hedonism of restaurant life: where all feeling and sensuality was experienced through the flavors and aromas we could consume.
Somewhere between these two extremes is healthy moderation. I just don't know where to find it.

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