I had a great comment from Marston on my last post on macrobiotics. I completely agree that it’s tough to explain macrobiotics to people, although I find that talking about whole grains usually triggers something since that’s so high profile in food marketing these days. Usually I describe it as whole grains, no processed flours or sugars, very little animal protein, no dairy or eggs and lots of fresh vegetables.

I also found his comment about requiring less diabetes medication to be interesting as well. I have two Type II diabetics in my family, and one controls it completely through diet, the other eats whatever he wants and has to take medication, so diet can have a definite effect. Eating whole grains gives you a more consistent blood sugar level throughout the day, which is probably a key factor. I know that it has a huge impact on energy levels for me: where I used to require coffee to get through the afternoon slump, if I eat whole oats for breakfast, I have a consistent energy level all day. Also, the macrobiotic bias against nightshades (tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, eggplant) helped another family member with great relief from her osteoarthritis symptoms, although she hasn’t stuck to the rest of the macrobiotic diet.

I kept a journal for a while after I started on macrobiotics but stopped back in the spring; I’ve just started doing it again to track what I eat and when I eat it against things like energy level, motivation (I work from home, so need a lot of that some days) and general well-being. Yesterday for lunch, for example, I had cold spicy soba noodles with a sauce of soy sauce, vinegars (red wine and rice), garlic, tahini and a bit of hot sauce, plus a green salad; for dinner, I had wheatberry salad. Today I’ve had whole oats for breakfast and will finish off the wheatberry salad for lunch, then will probably prepare a bit of fish and salad or a vegetable curry for dinner. I tend to use more spices than is advised in most macrobiotic references, but I love spicy food so have to indulge once in a while.

Last October, while finishing up a month-long trip to Europe with Damir, we both agreed that we needed some sort of change in what/how we eat. He had picked up a copy of Gillian McKeiths’ You Are What You Eat when we passed through Dublin, and we had both been reading it. Very accessible reading, and basically a sensible “whole foods” diet, leaning towards macrobiotics (although I didn’t know enough about macrobiotics then to say so). She advocates eating lots of whole grains, fresh fruits and veggies, smaller amounts of animal protein, and supplements such as wheat grass. On our return, I happened to see a book review for Jessica Porter’s The Hip Chick’s Guide to Macrobiotics, noticed the similarities between that and McKeith’s book, so bought that as well. Porter’s book goes a bit too much into the philosophy of macrobiotics than I care to know, but certainly gives a great introduction to the macrobiotic newbie.

Within a month, I was pretty much vegan, which is funny considering that I always thought that vegans were radical tree-huggers. Oh, wait… I wear Rockport sandals and just bought a bike and sold my car… maybe I’m one of them! I still eat meat once in a while (usually when I’m served it at someone’s house, since I really hate when I invite people to dinner and they give me a big list of what they won’t eat), fish once or twice a week, and vegetarian the rest of the time. Meat has become a condiment or flavouring for me, not a main part of my meal; I have no ethical problem with eating it, it just makes me feel heavy. I’ve had exactly one egg since the beginning of November, and almost no dairy (okay, a bit of goat or sheep cheese). No processed foods, such as white sugar or white flour. Lots of whole grains, like oat groats, quinoa and brown rice. No nightshades, which includes potatoes, tomatoes, peppers and eggplant. Oh yeah, I gave up coffee: no more grande lattes from Starbucks.

The funny thing is, I hardly miss what I’ve cut out. Every once in a while I’ll have a craving for something (like spicy Thai eggplant), I’ll eat a little bit of it and the craving goes away for another couple of months. I’ve lost about 10 pounds, although that wasn’t the reason for this change, and I feel great. Tons of energy, even through my former “sleepy time” in the middle of the afternoon. People tell me that I look 10 years younger, which is a nice thing to hear as I fast approach 45. If I could just force myself to start exercising, I’d probably regress in age.

Damir’s done well on this, too: he’s lost more weight than I have, although he is genetically slender and is now a bit too skinny, and gets through his thrice-weekly Aikido classes with lots of energy when he used to have to pop sugar in some form to keep going for two hours of martial arts. He even bought a pot (this is a man who has never cooked anything in his entire life) and now makes his own brown rice, barley and quinoa at home.

As I rapidly approach that magic mid-40’s mark, I think more and more about two things: when is my mid-life crisis going to end, and what am I going to do to keep in shape? I figure that I can’t do much about the mid-life crisis except to let it run its course, but I can do something about getting and staying fit. There’s a gym in my condo building but I just can’t bring myself to toil over a hot treadmill, and since I work most days at home, I don’t even have the 30-minute daily walk to and from the financial district to work any more.

Toronto is a pretty good city for cycling, although the drivers are a bit aggressive (I know, I’m one of them), so with a ton of bicycle commuters and couriers in the downtown core, I decided to get a bike. Many excuses and more than a year later, I finally bought one this week, and in doing so, found a great cycling shop: The Urbane Cyclist. (I’m not sure if someone didn’t know how to spell “urban” or if they really are trying to appeal to a more refined clientele, but I’m sold on them.) I started off with a five-star recommendation in NOW magazine, where Urbane Cyclist came out on top when the writer visited a number of shops looking for a city bike. When I walked in the shop on Saturday it was near-empty, but it quickly filled up with people looking for bikes and accessories, some of them obviously long-time customers who knew the staff by name. I told them my price range and what I was looking for (something to go riding in the city, no off-road, no racing), and a few minutes later I was riding around the local park to try out a particular model. Back to the shop, a few adjustments to the seat and handlebars, and out for another ride. Back to the shop, switch to a larger frame, out for another ride. Back to the shop, try out the original one again, which turned out to be the one that fit the best — I should have trusted their judgement in the first place! Three different salespeople looked after me, but they all seemed to know what was going on with the bike that I was trying out, so it was a pretty seamless customer experience, although a bit long because of all the other people in the store. I waited while they attached a kickstand and lock bracket, and traded out the quick-release seat and tire clips for Allen key bolts (to reduce the probability of someone stealing the parts), and rode home on my new bike.

I hadn’t checked their website before, but I looked them up when I got home. Why were the people so knowledgeable and helpful? Because they’re a workers co-op, and everyone’s a part owner. Why did they have just what I was looking for? Because their core clientele is bicycle commuters and couriers, who spend all their time riding in the city, just like me. And why were they able to do the necessary modifications while I waited, and throw in two free bike tune-ups to boot? Because they started as a bike repair shop for daily bike commuters, and still do a huge amount of repair work.

With a little bit of motivation, I’ll be joining the hordes of other bikers on Toronto’s streets and bike paths on a daily basis. In fact, I’m even selling my car.