Friday, December 2, 2011

23 Million Miles.

About a week ago I promised myself that I wouldn't write any more blog entries about my health, partially because I feel like each time I write that I'm getting healthier I jinx myself, but mostly because I'm finally - probably a good three weeks after everyone else - starting to find it a little boring. Six months of feeling like crap and obsessively searching for reasons why I'm feeling like crap may be interesting to me, but this ain't no secret journal, and occasionally I have to give some kind of consideration to you guys - my "audience", as the creative writing teachers call you. This being said, I'm the kind of guy who loves it when movies have that "where they are now" bit at the end; closure is important to me. So here it is. I'm not promising anything, but this will probably be the last blog entry on my health.

Dr Vic has been really good for me. Apparently a couple of days after our first visit he woke at three in the morning, dug my food journal out of his file, did some quick maths and figured I wasn't getting enough protein. I did some similar maths and agreed - some days I was only getting around 30 grams. So I started boosting it up to a minimum of 100 grams a day. Each time I went back to Dr Vic he asked me about it, and seemed really concerned. Eventually it came out - he once had a patient who was protein deficient, and who had ignored his advice, and eventually died.

While I get the impression that the Doctor still isn't convinced about a vegan diet, and that this death in his past has something to do with it. To his credit he isn't questioning me about it, but rather giving me homework. As such, as well as eating more protein, I have to make sure I'm getting a full spectrum of amino acids each day. There are twenty-one of the little fuckers, and it ain't easy, but being a vegan athlete wasn't ever going to be. Like Dr Garnham he has recommended that I go see a sports dietician, in the home of letting someone else figure out the complicated stuff, and I reckon that's probably going to be the next thing on my list.

The big question is, of course, how I'm feeling. Well, I'm feeling pretty damn good. When I told Dr Vic this he smiled and shook my hand. "You just wait, though," he replied, "In six months your brain will be firing and you'll think you couldn't feel any better. And then in a year you'll wonder how you ever survived feeling like you did six months ago. And then in two years, when you're back at your peak, you won't believe you ever felt so bad. You'll be flying."

1 comment:

nexus said...

There's a reason burgers taste good. To stop you from dying!