So, I caved.
Really, I thought joining CrossFit would be the last time I gave in to peer pressure. But here I am, almost one full week into trying the paleo diet.
It’s not that I have any particular beef (horrible pun gleefully intended) with the paleo diet. It seems like a sensible way to eat and live. But it does involve change and some very substantial change at that. And I don’t like change. Good change, bad change, doesn’t matter. I like my comfort zone, thank you very much. And that goes double for my carbohydrates.
So, why bother? Because I’m tired. Tired of being hungry. Tired of being tired. Tired of counting every calorie that passes my lips. So for two weeks, I’m giving this caveman stuff a whirl.
Granted I have concerns, some of which are valid and others of which are vanity. One of the valid trepidations include the annoying array of definitions of what constitutes paleo … or caveman … or primal. Each has its own set of rules, and sometimes, they flat out contradict each other. As far as vanity is concerned, I don’t like feeling like a sheep, like I started doing this because everyone else was. And I don’t know whether this counts as valid or vanity, but I mentioned I liked carbs, right? A lot?
But I have to say that so far, it’s going pretty well. I haven’t cheated, and my hunger level has gone from “Oh holy crap, feed me now before I eat my shoes” to a more polite “ahem, excuse me, but it seems to me that I appear to be a bit peckish.”
That alone just might be worth forgoing cereal in the morning.