Back in October I was on a diet. I am still eating the same way, but it is no longer a diet. Now it is my nature. All rice is brown. Vegetables come from up the road, not across the ocean. Meat is something to savor and encounter sparingly. Breakfast is oats and yogurt, not biscuits and gravy. Sugar is wicked and flour is glue.
I am a hothouse flower with claws and teeth. A single source fuel cell designed to power a 27lb aluminum rocket. A 40 year-old man who had a taste of decrepitude, a preview of the unraveling of the sickly dysfunctional organism. A death on failure’s terms. The humiliation of “can’t do.”
“Am I on a diet?” They ask. “HELL NO!” I tell them, “I’m on a mission.”
-48 lbs lighter.