"That's kinda radical," claims one of my friends, "you'll starve." My fitness guru was surprised, "You have a doctor recommending the Paleo diet? Where did you find him?" He's the son of one of my early mentors, and I accidentally picked him out of the phone book. Blah, blah, blah. I claim.
I love food. Since I stopped smoking and started to exercise, I eat. So much so, so aggressively, that some people hint that I might have a tapeworm. I'm typically famished. And people saying things like, "I had to stop and eat on the way so I could order some thing good, rather than the largest thing on the menu" do not surprise, nor do statements like, "That looks like it's about what you normally eat, maybe you should put more in there so the rest of us can eat." I would usually rather eat. Everything is better with butter.
I went to visit my friend, let's call her Rose, who was on a meat only diet. Sort of Paleo gone arctic. Atkins with a "NO." Yeah -- meat. The good, the bad, and the ugly. She looks healthier than I have ever known. Go meat.
So I have pushing my diet towards meat, ever inspired by this quote from Left for Dead by Beck Weathers, and by my cave-man friends:
"... Two interesting things happened the next day. A wolf ran out on the trail."They wolfed him down." That's how I want to eat. It's how I do eat. It's pretty hard though. Order a chicken salad and it's filled with shitty white bread croutons, sugary dressing. Eat sushi and it plonked down on rice. It's a wide spread conspiracy to pack your body with cheap ugly calories, pasta. As Julia Childs' said, "It's starch." Intended to fill you up.
One of the Dani (New Guinea Tribesman) whipped out his bow. ... and dropped the
wolf in mid-stride....Then he and the rest of them fell on the animal and ate it
raw. ... They wolfed him down."
Despite all the failings, my failings, it's working, the Paleo diet. I am at 154 lbs and holding. My joints don't hurt. I feel good.