Recently, around the time I began to take long early morning hikes through my town, I changed my dietary habits of a lifetime. I have always liked Haagen Dazs, for instance, but I no longer eat ice cream.
I really like ice cream. When I lived on Stone Mountain, before leaving the grocery store I would roll a newly purchased pint of ice cream in the day's entire newspaper, wrap that in plastic, and pack it all into a special bag to preserve cold foods. I would drive the jeep home to the bottom of the mountain and hike to the house. I would unpack my treat and sit on the porch to read the paper, and tuck into the ice cream, now the consistency of soft-serve.
I am a bit like an alcoholic. Hello, my name is Ann, and it has been 6 weeks since I ate any food with any dairy (think of butter and yogurt), gluten-bearing grain (that means wheat and oats), and sugar. I and my husband have increased our daily fiber intake to at least 35 grams, and we have so many vegetable and fruit leavings from meal preparation that we have to buy a compost bin because it seems a crime to throw it all down the sink disposal.
Alternatively, I could take the garbage out on my morning walks and strew banana peels and carrot tops along the way. I won't do that, of course, because that is not a reasonable liberty a person may take and yet remain a member of an orderly society.
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