About a month ago, my 14-year old daughter Bard decided to stop eating meat. I've been proud of her because she has been making healthy meal choices, like big salads, bran muffins and bean burritos.
A few days ago, she told me that she thought she would give up because she wasn't feeling any better. She didn't think it was doing any good. I told her that I thought she was probably feeling better, but she just didn't realize it.
"Remember last week, when we had pizza, pop, chips and cake for the birthday party?" I asked her. There was a time when that kind of diet was pretty normal. We've drastically changed our ways of eating, so moments of order-in pizza and pop and especially chips are noteworthy now.
"Yeah," she answered. I think she knew where I was going.
"I felt rotten after I ate that stuff," I told her. And I really had. Swollen, bloated and thirsty, not to mention that my stomach was about to show its remorse by rejecting the contents of my tummy.
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I did, too."
That's what's funny about changing one's lifestyle for the better. It feels like nothing's happening. It feels like it's really not doing any good.
I don't always realize the benefits of the change until I go back to the "old" way of doing things. And then I feel the effects of my backsliding manyfold.
I think that's very telling.
Thursday, February 10, 2005
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