“Whole Thirty”: Because everyone loves fad diets!
I woke up well before the crack of dawn this morning with a vague sense of trepidation. It was not because I knew that the glass of wine and many pieces of fudge I had consumed the night previous would be the last for a very long time. Nor was it because I had been given to understand that the morning’s breakfast would consist of yam and eggs, though this might have shaken the morale of a lesser man. Rather, I awoke because the baby was throwing a fit, and my vague sense of trepidation arose from the fact that these little predawn adventures are always liable to start a sort of chain reaction of personal needs among the younger set. I got the baby a bottle and went back to bed. The night before I’d rashly suggested that I’d be getting up on time this morning to start this “Whole Thirty” thing off rightly, but the multiple nocturnal expeditions set me straight on that. I’m on vacation. I went back to bed.
Considerably later this morning, I rose again, this time on a semi-permanent basis. My lovely wife, whose sheer dedication to the art of ascetic dining prompted me to join her in this crazy adventure, had of course already prepared my first meal of The Unholy Thirty (as I prefer to call it). I set myself to work surrounding it, and although I think breakfast yams are generally improved by a zealous omission of garlic, on the whole breakfast was satisfactory. Bafflingly, in a diet seemingly calculated to eliminate any physical pleasure that might be derived from eating, coffee is not prohibited by the “Whole Thirty” diet. I acted accordingly, and morale was subsequently improved.
The day ended with a delicious beef roast and a thoroughly fancy salad, both of which were delicious, and both of which (when consumed in gratuitous quantities) left my insides feeling utterly hollow. (Protein alone never makes me feel full, and as for vegetables–nothing more need be said about vegetables.)
One might ask why I am participating in the “Whole Thirty” madness at all. My wife is in it for the weight loss aspects, and I’d like to make a show of solidarity, but I’m 6’1” and 165 lbs. and would consider any weight loss on my part to be a fresh new health concern. However, the local proponent (a.k.a. wife) around here claims that “Whole Thirty” is also good for healing things like chronic heartburn/stomach acid, which I do suffer from. On top of that, that proponent (not a medical professional) seems convinced that I have a “leaky gut” (which mere phrase causes me to wince and clutch my midriff), and this solid 30 days of vegetables and apple cider vinegar is supposed to fix that right up too. Thus, here I am!
As you might possibly have observed, my general attitude toward this venture is one of mild skepticism. (Dare I say, wholesome skepticism?) However, I’m unwilling to make a blanket judgment without actually trying it myself, and besides, outright condemnation of fad diets carries considerably more weight (heh) from one who has actually experimented with it. These, then, are the journal of an expedition, an expedition to either validate or wholly debunk the whole diet.
Day One: morale is good.