Kryptonite
In which Mike turns to the dark side
Suquamish, WA - 12 Oct 2024
I work real hard to eat more vegetables. I am careful to eat good fats and not bad ones. I am absolutely careful to limit my carbohydrate intake. Why?
Well, about 17 years ago, this skinny marathon, and beyond, runner found out he was on the verge of diabetes. How could that be? Yet my blood sugars were way off. It made no sense. So, I did a pile of research and learned a lot about the nature of carbohydrates and that it was not necessary for long distance runners to "carb load" in an attempt to have lots of reserves for race days and training. In fact, the best source of energy was fat. Not the kind that is consumed, but the stuff that lives just under our skin. Just a little bit of the lardy store has enough energy to keep me on the move for days at a time. Who knew?
Not me. Not one to take things at face value, I hit the books and research papers and found out that all those carbs I was consuming were doing me far more harm than good. So good by processed food. Hello clean eating.* And off I went to the evangelical new me who would stand on soap boxes and promise hell fire and brimstone to the fast food eating, boxed cereal lot of sinners I saw before me.
Okay, I have since simmered down and stand a more moderate lifestyle. I let folks eat what they want and take what comes their way. I live my best with good health habits and manage to stay skinny, though I no longer run to the extreme and the pulpit I once stood behind is now a pile of rubble in the deepest caverns of my mind.
So why the story and the confessions? Because I still have a weakness that I cannot say no to. An addiction that grips at my souls and calls me to its grip at every opportunity. Pizza. I can't say no to it and if my wife tells me to pick up a pie on the way home from work I don't argue, I head off to a nearby pizzeria and bring home a circle of heaven.
Today was just such a day. We took a trip to a town on the other side of us, Kingston, to make a stop at Sourdough Willy's. They make a number of pizza styles from new York to Chicago to Detroit and all made on a base of what they claim is a more than one hundred year old sourdough culture that the owner has carried across the country to this final settlement.
Now normally I can take a slice or two and a salad to satisfy my craving, but this sourdough from Willy's is so good that I polished off the 16 inch pie, with some help from my wife of course. Forgive me oh great Spirit for I have sinned. And I will again because I am flesh and I am weak.
Keep on truckin'
-Mike
*“Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.” Michael Pollan, Food Rules An Eaters Manual
