I was in a cafe in Rincón, Puerto Rico, a few days before the start of the New Year (Gregorian Calendar) reading books I plucked off the coffee house’s “book share” library. One of them was on veganism. I curiously read bits of each chapter, and along the way, asked myself: Why don’t I eat better?
Two days later, after eating in a vegan restaurant I found a few miles inland, away from the surfer dudes, I realized I could probably become a vegan.
Of course once I articulated that I wanted to be a vegan, it was clear that I had made a public bet: my willpower versus my impulses. As someone who in the past has fallen because of a lack of confidence, I told myself that this matters but that being a vegan was MY decision, one that I could change at any time.
So far, almost a month into my new diet, I’m loving it. This makes sense for a bunch of reasons:
– WHEN I ATE COW I FELT LIKE ONE.
I have had a love-hate affair with burgers my whole life. There was nothing quite like a good burger and though I didn’t have it often, I just loved the taste, especially when it was covered with ketchup and accompanied by fries (also smothered in ketchup). But I always felt bloated and nasty AFTER the fact. (Well, not so much during my years on the college swim team. back then I could eat whatever I wanted.) From about age 30 on eating a burger meant I’d pay the price and if I had too many in a month I’d be two pounds heavier. Continue reading “Am I really, suddenly, a vegan?”