D.A.R.E. never prepared me for this. Despite all those warnings from high school, I have faced more peer pressure to eat protein and drink water than I EVER did to try drugs.
How I’m supposed to eat 120 grams of protein and 30 grams of fiber all within a deficit of 1,700 kilocalories is beyond me. Don’t forget we have to regulate our nervous system while we’re eating all of our protein, doing lymphatic drainage and drinking 3 gallons of water a day.
Oh, and don’t forget about fiber. Then you should — or should not — eat meat, depending on who you are speaking to. You can also try a plant-based diet, but don’t go too far. Plant-based “meat” is probably not as healthy as you might think (again, consider the source). All of this is ONLY if you got your 8 hours of sleep and did your morning meditation.
Water
I am a well-hydrated person. I drink a GALLON a day. Yes, really. I enjoy it. I feel good. I invested in a new “smart scale” that scans my weight and vitals every morning. So thorough is this device that I’m concerned it’s actually scanning backwards into my ancestors’ DNA. I’m waiting for it to be reported that my great-great-grandmother was iron-deficient in 1906. In the meantime, despite my gallon of water daily, it consistently tells me that my body’s hydration level is “low.”
Excuse me? The amount of water this thing is telling me to drink is like having a second full-time job and putting in overtime. I’m already up multiple times each night to visit the bathroom. Frankly, if I drink any more water daily, I am going to be exhausted from keeping my body healthy.
How did I evolve from someone who survived on not a single drop of water in childhood, other than the occasional sip from a garden hose, to an adult who needs a bucket of water daily just to feel alive? Is this aging? It is aging, isn’t it? You can tell me. I can take it.
GirlWonder is 30 years my junior and a very fit person. She carries what she casually refers to as her “emotional support water bottle.” It’s huge. On the upside, it can also double as a workout for her, I suppose. It’s nearly half her body weight.
She’s young, so she’s way ahead of things here. Bless her. I am far less young. I remember when it didn’t take so much EFFORT to keep it all together. A changing metabolism is not for the weak. I used to survive on coffee, Twizzlers and cherry Coke.
Gone are the days when I could live on a clementine indefinitely. Now that fruit will undoubtedly spike my blood glucose, and somehow I will still gain weight. Keeping up with the proper ratios of protein and fiber feels like a hostage situation.
Then, I’m told I also have to add collagen and iron supplements and make sure I’m walking at least 10,000 steps every day. The Fiber Gang and the 10,000 Steps Mafia are definitely in cahoots. I picture a shady character opening the side of a trench coat to reveal baggies of chia seeds and ancient grains. “Pssst … got your fiber right here.”
Somehow, we went from a societal obsession with kale to allowing protein to get a stranglehold on us. Greek yogurt and cottage cheese are king. Then we suggest magnesium, probiotics and to “make sure when you take your iron you have vitamin C or else you won’t get maximum absorption.” It is always something.
Track
Honestly, I need a chart. I do have a “smart ring” that monitors my sleep, heart rate, weight, health and so on. The ring alerts me when I am stressed. Oddly enough, I am often stressed when my ring is bothering me with facts I never asked for — like my weight on a random Tuesday afternoon.
My main goal is to not say inside thoughts out loud, not have a heat stroke and to hit at least 5,000 steps per day, if only from running to the restroom. I simply do not have the extra mental bandwidth for a diet restriction of any type.
I’m trying my best to eat the protein, drink the water, ingest enough fiber, do the weight bearing exercises, juggle all the supplements to help with the 99 symptoms of being a certain age while also being kind, having a “glowing and youthful” complexion, managing a career, meeting deadlines, cleaning house, doing laundry, reading at least 100 pages daily, keeping up with email (endless!) and getting at least eight hours of “significant and restorative sleep per night” per my bossy little health ring. Obviously, something has to give.
I’m quitting my job to focus on protein full-time.
