Within this epic health-kick I have going on, I made a few minor errors. For one, I had a couple of Bloody Mary's on Saturday night and topped them off with a greasy, delicious, authentic Philadelphia cheesesteak. And yesterday, after making my peanut-allergic boyfriend some oil-saturatated Chinese food (because he'll die if he eats the real thing, more than likely), I bought a bag of Hershey's Special Dark Minatures. And although I felt guilty about the Chinese food (because I'm not a huge fan of Lo Mein), the cheesesteak and the chocolate were delicious, which just shows me that no health food, no matter how good it makes me feel, is a replacement for good, amazing junk food.
There's a reason so many people eat junk food: because it tastes amazing. Sure, it might make you feel pretty terrible and possibly gain weight, but it's so delicious, that every once in awhile it just absolutely has to be had. I still enjoy my Kashi products, and eating good, lean meals make me feel more energetic and lighter. But there's something about a juicy, greasy, cheesy sandwich at midnight that just makes you feel alive and happy about life. Would I want one everyday? Probably not, because I'd feel terrible. But eating delicious, greasy food while I'm having some fun just makes the experience a little more fun. I love granola, but I also love nachos. I love carrots, but I also really love dark chocolate.
So I came home from work, at a sensible, well-portioned meal, and then ate five pieces of candy. And you know what? I don't feel bad about it. Eating some bad food every once in awhile is not going to kill me. Eating it on a regular basis, however, will. But it's the little things in life that really makes it worth living. If I were fifty and diabetic, I might have to eat like I do. But I don't, and that's what makes it better. I have the youth and the freedom to choose how I eat without having serious consequences. So sit back and eat some chocolate and a cheesesteak every one in awhile.
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label health. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Day Sixty-Two: The Wonder of a Cheeseburger
So I wrote a couple days ago about possibly starting a food blog, like the cheeseburger blog I saw. I also mentioned that it made me really, REALLY want a cheeseburger. What I didn't mention, is that my quest for a cheeseburger has not waned since then. I had a serious jonesin' for a beefy, cheesy goodness.
Despite the fact that I've eaten pretty much nothing but fruits, vegetables, and whole grains for the past two and a half weeks, I was definitely willing, although slightly sad, to break my health kick for one beautiful, loaded, drippy cheeseburger. So I set aside the salad I packed myself for lunch on Friday and got the cafe's Kobe sliders for lunch instead. They were minature morsels of cheeseburger joy, with little potato bread buns. But upon biting into the well-prepared small plate item, I was supremely disappointed. The cheeseburger had not been nearly as good as I remembered it.
I sat in dismay, disappointed that I had broken my good eating for something so unsatisfying. Yet, I was even more disappointed that I still had an extreme craving for a good, juicy burger. So I knew I would have to follow the old saying: if you want something done right, do it yourself.
So I traipsed to the grocery store and purchased a pound of mostly-lean ground beef and a pack of whole-wheat buns (there's no reason to not make a good choice or two, right?). I walked home, and faced a mild fear I have: cooking ground beef. I always grew up learning from God knows where that ground beef, if not cooked through, would probably kill you. And I heard from many cooking shows that cooking a burger brown would probably be disgusting. So with the little cooking practice and high enthusiasm I have, I had to somehow cook a burger perfect enough to quell my craving. So I seared the patty, let it sit a few minutes on each side, and watched as juices ran out. After about ten minutes or so of eying the meat suspiciously, I took it off the skillet and let it rest for a few minutes. Then, I began the burger-building process. I toasted both sides of the bun, layered some sliced onion, laid down the brown burger-y goodness with a melty slice of American cheese on top, then added a tomato and a pickle, ketchup and mustard, capped it off, and admired its beauty.
And then I ate it. I ate it in five minutes, and it was glorious.
Although the meat was a little overcooked, it wasn't dry. It had all the glory of a good burger, and although it was greasy and fatty and drippy, I felt only slightly unhappy about my unhealthy choice. And I really, really hope I don't want another burger for another long while.
But when in doubt, always eat the burger.
Despite the fact that I've eaten pretty much nothing but fruits, vegetables, and whole grains for the past two and a half weeks, I was definitely willing, although slightly sad, to break my health kick for one beautiful, loaded, drippy cheeseburger. So I set aside the salad I packed myself for lunch on Friday and got the cafe's Kobe sliders for lunch instead. They were minature morsels of cheeseburger joy, with little potato bread buns. But upon biting into the well-prepared small plate item, I was supremely disappointed. The cheeseburger had not been nearly as good as I remembered it.
I sat in dismay, disappointed that I had broken my good eating for something so unsatisfying. Yet, I was even more disappointed that I still had an extreme craving for a good, juicy burger. So I knew I would have to follow the old saying: if you want something done right, do it yourself.
So I traipsed to the grocery store and purchased a pound of mostly-lean ground beef and a pack of whole-wheat buns (there's no reason to not make a good choice or two, right?). I walked home, and faced a mild fear I have: cooking ground beef. I always grew up learning from God knows where that ground beef, if not cooked through, would probably kill you. And I heard from many cooking shows that cooking a burger brown would probably be disgusting. So with the little cooking practice and high enthusiasm I have, I had to somehow cook a burger perfect enough to quell my craving. So I seared the patty, let it sit a few minutes on each side, and watched as juices ran out. After about ten minutes or so of eying the meat suspiciously, I took it off the skillet and let it rest for a few minutes. Then, I began the burger-building process. I toasted both sides of the bun, layered some sliced onion, laid down the brown burger-y goodness with a melty slice of American cheese on top, then added a tomato and a pickle, ketchup and mustard, capped it off, and admired its beauty.
And then I ate it. I ate it in five minutes, and it was glorious.
Although the meat was a little overcooked, it wasn't dry. It had all the glory of a good burger, and although it was greasy and fatty and drippy, I felt only slightly unhappy about my unhealthy choice. And I really, really hope I don't want another burger for another long while.
But when in doubt, always eat the burger.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Day Fifty: Is Being Healthy Making Me Sick?
There is nothing quite like waking up in the morning and feeling perfectly fine, and two hours later being freezing, shaking, and nauseous. To make the experience better, there is also nothing like barfing in a public restroom. And if that's fun, then it's absolutely a blast to have to stop the car at the end of your street and open the door and ralph on the street, and your hair, as someone walks by walking their dog.
Needless to say, I did not have the most epic of Mondays.
I came home and slept for three hours, ate a piece of toast, went back to bed for another hour, ate some fruit, and sat around until dinner. So far, so good.
But for someone who doesn't get sick more than a bad cold twice a year, I've been feeling pretty crappy lately. It's only a month and a half into the year, and I've already used two and a half of my sick days. Fantastic. But it makes me a little worried. What have I been doing lately that's been making me so sick? This week, I've been really watching what I eat, so I'm thinking that maybe it's making my immune system a little weaker. Although the logic may not make sense, if I'm eating healthier but not eating well, I might not be giving myself any vitamins I need. A chocolate chip cookie might not be healthy, but it's giving me vitamin C from the orange zest, at least.
This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Last time I got pretty sick, I was on another health kick, just before Christmas. Naturally, I gave up my no-sugar kick at the holidays when fudge and cookies filled the house and I wanted to actually enjoy my holidays, so I put the health-kick on hold. But why everytime I eat healthy do I get un-healthy? Am I doing something wrong?
Needless to say, I did not have the most epic of Mondays.
I came home and slept for three hours, ate a piece of toast, went back to bed for another hour, ate some fruit, and sat around until dinner. So far, so good.
But for someone who doesn't get sick more than a bad cold twice a year, I've been feeling pretty crappy lately. It's only a month and a half into the year, and I've already used two and a half of my sick days. Fantastic. But it makes me a little worried. What have I been doing lately that's been making me so sick? This week, I've been really watching what I eat, so I'm thinking that maybe it's making my immune system a little weaker. Although the logic may not make sense, if I'm eating healthier but not eating well, I might not be giving myself any vitamins I need. A chocolate chip cookie might not be healthy, but it's giving me vitamin C from the orange zest, at least.
This isn't the first time this has happened to me. Last time I got pretty sick, I was on another health kick, just before Christmas. Naturally, I gave up my no-sugar kick at the holidays when fudge and cookies filled the house and I wanted to actually enjoy my holidays, so I put the health-kick on hold. But why everytime I eat healthy do I get un-healthy? Am I doing something wrong?
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Day Forty-Eight: Restaurants, Though Delicious, are Evil.
I am on a major health kick, and so far it has been proving pretty easy. But when it comes to healthy eating, I am a "go big or go home" kind of gal. I am trying to eat only lean meats and proteins whenever I can, eat more vegetables, more whole grains, and I'm paying attention to the caloric content of the foods I eat, simply because I'm curious to know what healthy foods I thought were healthy before, really aren't. Basically, the whole thing is an experiment to see how healthily I can eat for how long, and how my body reacts (in which I am also eliminating as much added sugar from my diet as I can, just to see how I feel. That means no cookies, no cake, no chocolate, and no sugar in my oatmeal. So far, so good.).
At least, the process is easy when I'm making food for myself at home. This morning, for example, I had two hard-boiled eggs sprinkled with salt on a piece of wheat toast. It was only 250 calories, full of protein, not high in sodium, and I also got some whole grains. It also kept me full from 8:00 AM through to lunch at noon, which is unheard of for me, as I get hungry like every 2 hours. Pretty good deal. Lunch also wasn't too bad. I had a bowl of Kashi Go Lean! Crunch with fruit on it, and that kept me full until, around, 4 PM, which could have been better, but it wasn't bad.
The problem came when I was out at the mall with friends and got tummy rumble-ies. My plethora of healthy options was...the food court. I knew it was going to be a challenge, but I didn't realize how much of a challenge. I headed for Chick-Fil-A, and got the healthiest thing I could find -- a Chargrilled Chicken Cool Wrap with Light Italian dressing. The wrap was basically a salad of lettuce, a couple carrots and some red cabbage, with a couple pieces of grilled chicken inside a thick tortilla wrap. And I used a quarter-packet of the dressing, which was about 25 calories. I felt proud. Until I got home and looked up how much I had eaten. That measly wrap, which kept me full for a whopping three hours, was 415-ish calories (the "ish" is for the estimated dressing I used). I ate some pork tenderloin, a cup of green beans, and a little bit of pasta last night, WITH butter, and that was less. I was astounded, and annoyed. I realize tortillas are not really that healthy of a choice, but come on -- aside from that I was eating a frickin' salad, and a sad one at that. I was not pleased.
I know it's difficult to eat healthy when out on the go or at a restaurant, but is it honestly possible? I know a lot of restaurants offer "healthier choices," but they're still loaded with sodium, and are really, really boring (wow, salmon covered in "signature" grill seasoning (a.k.a. salt, salt, and more salt, and some spices) and a side of overcooked broccoli, all for only 350 calories? No way! I'm totally not missing out on eating the bacon cheeseburger!). And healthier protein options, such as salmon or grilled chicken, are always smothered in some kind of cheese or cream sauce that throws the whole notion right out the back door.
With this in mind, if anyone who's trying to live a healthier lifestyle wants to "treat" themselves by going out, what's the treat? You're eating something probably ten times not as good as what you could make yourself for the same amount of calories and a higher amount of sodium. It's really depressing. It makes me want to screw the whole thing when I get out and do it right, and get the chicken strips. And it definitely poses a handicap when going out with friends, if you're always the one who wants to go somewhere where you can get something not absolutely terrible for you. If it's not a national chain restaurant or a restaurant designed around allowing healthier options, it's probably not going to make the cut. That eliminates diners (unless you're happy with a really, really sad salad bar), pizza and sandwich joints, most chinese restaurants (although some serve brown rice, chicken and vegetables. Woo.), and just about all Mexican places. So, basically, anywhere fun. Mexican is my weakness, by the way -- I don't make sacrifices when it comes to tortillas, guacamole, and marinated beef.
No wonder America is so fat -- it's extremely difficult to find anything truly healthy on a menu. I'm not sure how long this health kick of mine will last (the longest it's ever lasted me has been a month, which isn't too bad, I think), but so far the results have been...hungry. But apparently we're designed to eat every four hours, so I think that's a good thing. But it's awfully inconvenient.
At least, the process is easy when I'm making food for myself at home. This morning, for example, I had two hard-boiled eggs sprinkled with salt on a piece of wheat toast. It was only 250 calories, full of protein, not high in sodium, and I also got some whole grains. It also kept me full from 8:00 AM through to lunch at noon, which is unheard of for me, as I get hungry like every 2 hours. Pretty good deal. Lunch also wasn't too bad. I had a bowl of Kashi Go Lean! Crunch with fruit on it, and that kept me full until, around, 4 PM, which could have been better, but it wasn't bad.
The problem came when I was out at the mall with friends and got tummy rumble-ies. My plethora of healthy options was...the food court. I knew it was going to be a challenge, but I didn't realize how much of a challenge. I headed for Chick-Fil-A, and got the healthiest thing I could find -- a Chargrilled Chicken Cool Wrap with Light Italian dressing. The wrap was basically a salad of lettuce, a couple carrots and some red cabbage, with a couple pieces of grilled chicken inside a thick tortilla wrap. And I used a quarter-packet of the dressing, which was about 25 calories. I felt proud. Until I got home and looked up how much I had eaten. That measly wrap, which kept me full for a whopping three hours, was 415-ish calories (the "ish" is for the estimated dressing I used). I ate some pork tenderloin, a cup of green beans, and a little bit of pasta last night, WITH butter, and that was less. I was astounded, and annoyed. I realize tortillas are not really that healthy of a choice, but come on -- aside from that I was eating a frickin' salad, and a sad one at that. I was not pleased.
I know it's difficult to eat healthy when out on the go or at a restaurant, but is it honestly possible? I know a lot of restaurants offer "healthier choices," but they're still loaded with sodium, and are really, really boring (wow, salmon covered in "signature" grill seasoning (a.k.a. salt, salt, and more salt, and some spices) and a side of overcooked broccoli, all for only 350 calories? No way! I'm totally not missing out on eating the bacon cheeseburger!). And healthier protein options, such as salmon or grilled chicken, are always smothered in some kind of cheese or cream sauce that throws the whole notion right out the back door.
With this in mind, if anyone who's trying to live a healthier lifestyle wants to "treat" themselves by going out, what's the treat? You're eating something probably ten times not as good as what you could make yourself for the same amount of calories and a higher amount of sodium. It's really depressing. It makes me want to screw the whole thing when I get out and do it right, and get the chicken strips. And it definitely poses a handicap when going out with friends, if you're always the one who wants to go somewhere where you can get something not absolutely terrible for you. If it's not a national chain restaurant or a restaurant designed around allowing healthier options, it's probably not going to make the cut. That eliminates diners (unless you're happy with a really, really sad salad bar), pizza and sandwich joints, most chinese restaurants (although some serve brown rice, chicken and vegetables. Woo.), and just about all Mexican places. So, basically, anywhere fun. Mexican is my weakness, by the way -- I don't make sacrifices when it comes to tortillas, guacamole, and marinated beef.
No wonder America is so fat -- it's extremely difficult to find anything truly healthy on a menu. I'm not sure how long this health kick of mine will last (the longest it's ever lasted me has been a month, which isn't too bad, I think), but so far the results have been...hungry. But apparently we're designed to eat every four hours, so I think that's a good thing. But it's awfully inconvenient.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Day Forty-Six: The Best Motivation is Self-Motivation
After being snowed in for two days straight, after only a three-day reprieve from being snowed in last weekend, I lost it today. About an hour ago, I absolutely needed to burn off energy, so I went outside and shoveled the deck (a completely unnecessary, although not pointless task). For a half hour, I scraped and chopped at hardened, heavy snow, I lifted heavy loads of white crap, and threw it elsewhere. I got sweaty, I got gross, and I got cold. I also felt better than I have in a very long time.
I know I should exercise, as everybody does, really. Everybody realizes it's a good idea to get out and increase their heart rate a little bit, but nobody who makes it a priority ever wants to do it until they're actually five or ten minutes in. I am no exception to this common group of people. I don't really like the idea of getting up off the warm couch and engaging in some healthy physical activity, but once I do it (which is very rare), I feel really good. I feel better about myself and my state of health, and I feel like I'm not treating my body like garbage. It also makes me feel better about my high intake of sugar.
But although I have known that I need to join a gym ever since I stopped going after I graduated college, I have never gotten myself to do it (mostly because of the absolutely ridiculous membership fees that come along with joining). But nothing has motivated me more than feeling restless and suffocated by four walls surrounded by snow. I guess being unable to go anywhere else forced me to do the only thing I could to exert any physical energy -- exercise. Maybe being snowed-in is actually not bad for me.
I know I should exercise, as everybody does, really. Everybody realizes it's a good idea to get out and increase their heart rate a little bit, but nobody who makes it a priority ever wants to do it until they're actually five or ten minutes in. I am no exception to this common group of people. I don't really like the idea of getting up off the warm couch and engaging in some healthy physical activity, but once I do it (which is very rare), I feel really good. I feel better about myself and my state of health, and I feel like I'm not treating my body like garbage. It also makes me feel better about my high intake of sugar.
But although I have known that I need to join a gym ever since I stopped going after I graduated college, I have never gotten myself to do it (mostly because of the absolutely ridiculous membership fees that come along with joining). But nothing has motivated me more than feeling restless and suffocated by four walls surrounded by snow. I guess being unable to go anywhere else forced me to do the only thing I could to exert any physical energy -- exercise. Maybe being snowed-in is actually not bad for me.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Day Thirty-Eight: I'm Pretty Sure I'm Slowly Killing Myself
I'm pretty sure I'm slowly killing myself. Every morning, I wake up and my brain turns on. I think about having to get up, I think about having to take a shower, and I think about all the crap I have to do that day. My brain is always going like the Energizer bunny, and sometimes I think so quickly from one thing to the next that I completely forget where I'm going when I'm walking. I'll stride into a room with purpose, only to realize I either walked completely past where I meant to be going and into the room I am currently in, or I'll completely forget why I ventured to where I stand. But strangely, I'm rarely scattered, and often don't forget things, no matter how much is on my mind. Maybe that's why I'm so stressed out all the time. I have a constant running list of crap I have to do and remember.
It doesn't help that I always need to be moving, as well. If I'm not doing something, generally, I will get antsy and bored. So even when I'm relaxing, I feel like I'm wasting time and I'm stressed that I'm not making better use of my time. No wonder I'm in such bad shape.
As a result, my body is constantly tense. My muscles are always tight, I have nervous ticks, and I'm pretty sure my pulse is quick all the time. I've tried desperately to chill out and calm down, but nothing seems to keep me calm and more slowly moving once I stop my relaxation technique. I've tried meditation, reading, candles, consciously telling myself to calm down whenever I remember, watching my breathing, and relaxing my muscles. None of them work. In fact, the only thing that does help is being absolutely exhausted. Then, I'm slow, calm, and serene. However, I'm also working on low fuel. So yes, I'm pretty sure I'm killing myself.
I'm probably going to die of heart failure, purely because I am working my poor heart so much to keep my body moving as fast as my brain, and my brain keeping up with itself. So it's high time I really figure out how to relax myself before I start doing some real damage. Suggestions are most welcome.
It doesn't help that I always need to be moving, as well. If I'm not doing something, generally, I will get antsy and bored. So even when I'm relaxing, I feel like I'm wasting time and I'm stressed that I'm not making better use of my time. No wonder I'm in such bad shape.
As a result, my body is constantly tense. My muscles are always tight, I have nervous ticks, and I'm pretty sure my pulse is quick all the time. I've tried desperately to chill out and calm down, but nothing seems to keep me calm and more slowly moving once I stop my relaxation technique. I've tried meditation, reading, candles, consciously telling myself to calm down whenever I remember, watching my breathing, and relaxing my muscles. None of them work. In fact, the only thing that does help is being absolutely exhausted. Then, I'm slow, calm, and serene. However, I'm also working on low fuel. So yes, I'm pretty sure I'm killing myself.
I'm probably going to die of heart failure, purely because I am working my poor heart so much to keep my body moving as fast as my brain, and my brain keeping up with itself. So it's high time I really figure out how to relax myself before I start doing some real damage. Suggestions are most welcome.
Saturday, January 23, 2010
Day Twenty-Six: Mmmm. Sugar.
There are very few things in life that I enjoy more than real, white, shiny refined sugar. I love cake, brownies, pie, candy, and most of all, the perfection and magic that is...the cookie. As weird and juvenile as it may sound, cookies are my absolute favorite food. I will never, ever, EVER turn down a cookie that is offered to me...unless I'm feeling guilty about my health. Which even at twenty-four, is something that I need to be conscious of with the way that I eat.
While I try to eat healthy lunches everyday, and healthy, lighter dinners when I cook for myself (my mom's cooking is too damn good for me to care that it might not be as light as I would make for myself), I make up for it by eating refined sugar in between and after meals. The only exercise I get is running up and down the stairs all and between rooms all day at work (which actually isn't bad. It's considered "light" exercise. I look this shit up.). So it comes as so surprise to me that every once in awhile I feel more than a little guilty and need to back off the refined sugar a bit. And it's pretty damn difficult.
My addiction to refined sugar puts me in a pretty bad mood when I put up a fight against it. For awhile, I tried to limit myself to one serving of refined sugar a day (as opposed to natural sugar in fruit, for example). A cookie after dinner, or a piece of Godiva that I've been hoarding since Christmas. That worked for awhile, but I would find myself looking forward to that one cookie a day, craving it, and finding that once I ate it it was gone entirely too quickly. I would pass up pastries and chocolate chip cookies that weren't deemed worthy enough to become my single treat. Then, I gave up. While I'm currently still highly limiting my refined sugar intake, I don't count the sugar on my Multi-Grain Cheerios, or the couple Tootsie Rolls I'll eat after lunch. And aside from caring about my health, there's a reason for it.
My mom recently told me about a book (forgive me, I don't know the title or author) about a cancer researcher who, while researching causes and facilitators of cancer, got cancer himself. He used himself as a model, and determined what in this diet and lifestyle were causing cancer cells to grow. In doing so, he made a very interesting and startling discovery -- refined sugar actually feeds already existing cancer cells. It helps them grow, and actually makes it more difficult for the immune system to fight them off. I was in shock. So while I'm pretty certain (knock on wood) that I don't have existing cancer cells in my body, it could one day become possible, or researchers may eventually find that sugar can cause cancer...or something. But it's already bad enough, so what's one more, slightly scary reason to limit my sugar intake?
This frightening little fact put me in a position I had never been in before. I began to understand what it must be like to be a smoker, in a way. Smokers know that they're doing something terrible for themselves, but they enjoy it, so they continue to smoke. How is this different from eating sugar? Sure, it's probably a lot less bad for a body than smoking, but eating enough of it can cause diabetes, fat, extreme weight gain, and now feed cancer cells. I'm sure if somebody were to heat up pieces of pie in a plastic container in the microwave enough times in their life, it's bound to be bordering on similar carcinogenic risk as, say, a light smoker. I really enjoy sugar, just as many smokers really enjoy smoking. Even if sugar was known to possibly cause cancer, not just feed it, I'm not sure I would eat less of it. Sure, I want to be healthy and live a long life, but I don't want to cut sugar out of my diet for the rest of my life, either. So I guess for now I'll just limit my sugar intake to the really good things, like homemade brownies and cheesecake. And if I get cancer, then I'll worry about not eating sugar.
While I try to eat healthy lunches everyday, and healthy, lighter dinners when I cook for myself (my mom's cooking is too damn good for me to care that it might not be as light as I would make for myself), I make up for it by eating refined sugar in between and after meals. The only exercise I get is running up and down the stairs all and between rooms all day at work (which actually isn't bad. It's considered "light" exercise. I look this shit up.). So it comes as so surprise to me that every once in awhile I feel more than a little guilty and need to back off the refined sugar a bit. And it's pretty damn difficult.
My addiction to refined sugar puts me in a pretty bad mood when I put up a fight against it. For awhile, I tried to limit myself to one serving of refined sugar a day (as opposed to natural sugar in fruit, for example). A cookie after dinner, or a piece of Godiva that I've been hoarding since Christmas. That worked for awhile, but I would find myself looking forward to that one cookie a day, craving it, and finding that once I ate it it was gone entirely too quickly. I would pass up pastries and chocolate chip cookies that weren't deemed worthy enough to become my single treat. Then, I gave up. While I'm currently still highly limiting my refined sugar intake, I don't count the sugar on my Multi-Grain Cheerios, or the couple Tootsie Rolls I'll eat after lunch. And aside from caring about my health, there's a reason for it.
My mom recently told me about a book (forgive me, I don't know the title or author) about a cancer researcher who, while researching causes and facilitators of cancer, got cancer himself. He used himself as a model, and determined what in this diet and lifestyle were causing cancer cells to grow. In doing so, he made a very interesting and startling discovery -- refined sugar actually feeds already existing cancer cells. It helps them grow, and actually makes it more difficult for the immune system to fight them off. I was in shock. So while I'm pretty certain (knock on wood) that I don't have existing cancer cells in my body, it could one day become possible, or researchers may eventually find that sugar can cause cancer...or something. But it's already bad enough, so what's one more, slightly scary reason to limit my sugar intake?
This frightening little fact put me in a position I had never been in before. I began to understand what it must be like to be a smoker, in a way. Smokers know that they're doing something terrible for themselves, but they enjoy it, so they continue to smoke. How is this different from eating sugar? Sure, it's probably a lot less bad for a body than smoking, but eating enough of it can cause diabetes, fat, extreme weight gain, and now feed cancer cells. I'm sure if somebody were to heat up pieces of pie in a plastic container in the microwave enough times in their life, it's bound to be bordering on similar carcinogenic risk as, say, a light smoker. I really enjoy sugar, just as many smokers really enjoy smoking. Even if sugar was known to possibly cause cancer, not just feed it, I'm not sure I would eat less of it. Sure, I want to be healthy and live a long life, but I don't want to cut sugar out of my diet for the rest of my life, either. So I guess for now I'll just limit my sugar intake to the really good things, like homemade brownies and cheesecake. And if I get cancer, then I'll worry about not eating sugar.
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