Oh, the humanity!
As I’ve mentioned before, this website is designed to show you my pursuit of a primal lifestyle, warts and all. And that means coming clean when my diet has not been anywhere close to clean. This is one of those times.
As I passed the six week mark of this journey, I began to have some serious cravings for the forbidden fruit of Mountain Dew soda (specifically, the Baja Blast limited edition flavor). I figured the desire was a result of some dehydration from doing three days in a row of bicycling in the July heat, coupled with some to-be-expected cravings from depriving myself of something that has, for so long, been a part of my daily diet. I managed to push off the cravings for a couple of days, but began rationalizing to myself that I could make one exception, but only for that specific elixir. After a fun but humid (and thus, sweaty) evening running a photography booth at an outdoor event on Saturday, I determined the time was right, and stopped into the first convenience store I came to and headed for the soda cooler. ‘Twas filled with all varieties of Mountain Dew—all varieties, that is, except Baja Blast. Taking that as a sign from above, or at the least, from Grok, I left without a purchase and swigged my lukewarm water from the bike bottle I’d brought along for the event.
The next day I did a hilly (and thus, sweaty) bike ride, and again headed for a convenience store soda cooler, only to be faced with the same grim story: every flavor of Dew except the holy grail I was seeking. This time I opted for a reasonably healthy hydration and electrolyte replacement beverage, a Vita Coco Coconut Water with orange juice. It might not be the most pure and primal coconut water I could choose (although it was the best choice at that store), but it certainly was a preferred option to the gut bomb I wanted. So, proud of my (unintentional) soda sobriety, I pressed forward into week seven.
On Monday I continued to fight the demon of Dew desire, and finally let a little crack form in the dike, shoveling Pirate Booty puffed corn into my piehole and chasing it with three (but only three) sips of a small can of Pepsi. I actually thought that had successfully put my finger in the dike, as it were, and plugged the leak. The craving was gone, and I figured I had weathered the storm. But, alas and alack, along came Tuesday, and with it a visit from a salesman bearing doughnuts. Not your run of the mill supermarket doughnuts, which I’ve had no problem resisting. Nay, these were the doughy delights known as Krispy Kreme, and they were fresh. I made one disappear before the salesman had even gotten in the elevator, and felt satisfied. Until the end of the day, when I “needed” another.
Ah, Wednesday, Anything Can Happen Day, for us fans of the original Mickey Mouse Club. By this point, I’ve decided to just go with the cravings, ride them out, and get back on the wagon. So, since we’ve fallen off the wagon, let’s just go all the way off: chips, punch, potato salad, and cake at the office potluck/cookout lunch; another slice of cake and a little icy cold Co-Cola for an afternoon snack; and then the pièce de résistance: that long awaited Baja Blast (took two more convenience store stops to find one), an order of chicken wings, and a slice of pizza for dinner.
I’ve rationalized my descent to these depths by telling myself it’s better to go with the flow, get it out of my system (which, if you’ll excuse the too-much-information aspect, has not been a problem when introducing this crap food back into said system), and then get back on-plan. But I also know this is about the point where I flunked out of my last effort at primal a few years back. About six weeks in, I gave in to the soft drinks. Oh, I maintained the weight loss for a few more weeks, but it didn’t take long before I began the long slog back up the scale and down the self-image slide which finally culminated in this present paleo-ish pursuit.
So I’ve deputized the everlovely Mrs. MyPrimalJourney to yell, kick, cajole, and anything else needed to get my sorry butt back in gear this weekend, if I have not already done so myself, by then. And I’m hereby deputizing you, too, gentle reader. That’s part of the reason I’ve made this a public primal journey. I will not self destruct this time around!