on #foodbabies & being whole30-ish

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07.12.2016 by Andrea

I’ve resigned myself to admit that I am now part of an aging population. No, I’m not yet a card carrying member of the AARP nor do I get a silver tips discount at the local diner. Buuuuut, I most certainly have seen an uptick of the crop of gray hairs on my head, proudly tote my AAA membership around, and I don’t deny a good power nap in my car {move along, nothing to see}.

But here’s the kicker: all things I thought I wouldn’t do, {and pooh poohed A LOT} have started to come to fruition. I’m beginning to sound like my mother when I spy a better table at a restaurant, I clip coupons like being frugal is going out of style, and my fridge is full of foods that have been or are waiting to be cooked by … ME.

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no but seriously, this is my fridge.

I KNOW! Halt the presses, send a medic, check my pulse. How can I even admit that when the name of this very blog is “i don’t cook, i eat.” Hands up … I’m coming out of the closet, in the spirit of full disclosure and honesty. First and foremost, let’s be real, it’s not like I’m ready to list cooking as a talent in my LinkedIn profile. It gets better {or worse} depending on how you look at it. This is where the whole aging this comes into play. The whole truth, and nothing but the truth is, I think my body is enjoying it.

Now, before you blog-exit this page, because I get it, this proclamation feels a bit other wordly. Sit tight. I understand. In this very moment, you may be shaking your head thinking that another one bit the dust. Let’s be frank here, this is new. While I can’t deny this kitchen “stuff” has been creeping into my repertoire … first it was dabbling in gardening {mmmmm, that wasabi arugula}, then it was learning the art of using the slow cooker {praise whomever invented this miracle device} and next thing I knew, slowly but surely lifestyle and food removal cleanses became a thing and creeped into my life. I blame it on binge watching Netflix food documentaries which took me down the path of buying a juicer {best Craiglist purchase ever}. Then it was a hot tip about how easy and approachable Simply Real Health’s recipes were {real talk: I had my first Instagram fan girl experience} and then oops, I joined the whole30 army. Wha? Wha? Wha?

Quite simply, I just can’t eat like a rockstar in my 20’s anymore. It’s like Ali Wong says, 18 year olds can just {excuse my language} s#*t and they regain their 6 pack abs. I on the other hand have been carrying around a food baby belly that was bigger then my friends real baby she’s growing in her tummy. That’s a life being formed. Mine? Dormant calories.

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this was my food baby {post Paris}

I don’t regret any of the bites, they were all for good causes: macaroons in Paris, croissants in Paris, champagne in Paris, frites in Amsterdam, fish & chips in Iceland, farm to table food in Charlotte, and my favorite go to anthem for the past couple of years: rosé all day. I’ll be darned, it’s a wonder its taken this long to finally catch up to me. While my working out has been the same or better {thanks ClassPass} I’ve been bound for #kegbod {made that up myself} for a bit. Aging, I tell you.

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Quite frankly embarking on this journey probably wasn’t the most well thought out or scripted action I’ve done. The idea of “oh hey, you should start #whole30 the day after an epic wedding on a holiday weekend” should have caused me to pause. But I’m reckless, I jump in head first, and truly … when is there ever a fun time to cut champs, cheese and carbs {my favorite trifecta} out of your life?

I’ll level with you. I’m being whole-30ish. I am going on holiday shortly to a land where wine flows like water and street meats are irresistible. {Before the 30 days end.} It’s day 10 and while I haven’t intentionally broken any rules, I’ve outsourced some food making and quite frankly don’t have the bandwidth to create all things from scratch. But, I’m chugging along.

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homemade pork carnitas

Here’s the rundown {thus far}:

  • Day 2 my hangry self reared and I wasn’t sure I was going to make it. I took a car nap in the garage of my gym and felt punch drunk when I awoke 10 minutes later.
  • Week 1 my digestive system was active and I feared accidentally “cutting the cheese” in my gym partner’s face during our one minute sit up drill. not a joking matter folks, luckily it’s been unrealized {thus far}.
  • My slow cooker has been all kinds of good, churning out meats like we are on Iron Chef America.
  • I think must perpetually smell of onions and garlic because I have used them in nearly everything {apologies to my poor cubicle mates and thanks for being so tolerant}.
  • When you haven’t cooked in ages, you realize your paltry supply of mason jars doesn’t hold a lot.
  • My lunch bag {formerly known as my tailgating cooler, now referenced as “the Beast”} can hold a ton. It may not appear to be trendy when I’m lugging it around at work. But, you gotta do you. Nobody wants me ravenously seeking out food like an animal in heat. {Read: hangry}.
  • I knew this from Ethan Stowell’s Italian cookbook but now I know this even more: unequivocally – homemade tomato sauce is just divine.
  • You can eat out {hello spaghetti squash and meatballs} and survive when you’re in the midst of a delectable street fair resplendent with curly fries and delicious craft beers.
  • I’m actually sleeping like a baby and my belly isn’t bloated uncomfortably.
  • Accountability is everything. I’m definitely that girl who is trying to recruit everyone to join me in this misery, I mean healthy endeavor.

To say the least, I’m actually enjoying being mindful of what I put in my mouth and knowing I had a hand in the creation from start to consumption.

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the struggle is real. #bobsburgersandfries

So, what’s the next?

I’ve got about another week and then I’ll reintroduce some “foreign” foods. But in all honesty I won’t go all out when I rejoin the “normal” eating world. I don’t battle the sugar monster like some of my pals but I have looked mournfully at the cheese section every time I go to the market. I don’t think I’m hallucinating or riding on a fad-high and believe there are sustainable habits as takeaways for the long term but only time will tell (I will update y’all). And, well …  it was time.

Sometimes you have to face to the music and pull up your big girl pants. {Face palm}. Fade in the stringed quartet, yup – this is me aging and becoming more mature.

Continue on this food consumption train with me. I won’t over-promise and under-deliver on the cadence* of this blog any longer.

Until the next bite {or my next hangry episode}. Cheers!IMG_5834

*Sidenote –  I utilized public transit today and was able to pump out this bad boy. This occasional 1 hour commute may have to be my newfound way to expound my verbal vomit and mindless musings.

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