Some days you wake up and you want to re-arrange
all of your furniture, set the cat out, get your tickets to San Fran and make
for the sunset.
Other days you try, what some may feel, a more
radical approach. Kris Carr, like others in The Biz, is a flagship spokesperson
even reaching beyond the yellow banner heights of Lance Armstrong. She lives
with cancer every day and is a devout vegan.
No, not someone who hits the redeye for Vegas. You
laugh. Someone once asked me if vegan meant just that.
Vegans are that divine group who will allow no animal product to enter
their bodies. A noble cause, and at times a difficult one.
I am not of the religion that subscribes to the fact that humans are
vegetable matter eaters and nothing more. No, I believe, sincerely that they
human body is one of the most perfect machines in nature and being a killer, a
honed, evolution developed, killer of all things.
I am not speaking about wars over crosses and temples. I am speaking
about survival. Humans eat things. We are animals. And as such we will not go
the way of the Dodo. We eat everything.
Okay commence with the eye-rolling. We would not exist at the top of the
food chain had we not made up our minds and our stomachs to eat all that
crawled, flew, charged, ran and growled. This was our legacy.
Did it go wrong? I am a firm believer that it did.
Kris Carr takes her message in the book, Crazy, Sexy, Diet. She is a
raw, vegan on a mission to save not only cancer patients but the human race.
The theory is pretty simple and, if you dig deep enough, pretty ancient.
The human body has a Ph – like your pool in the backyard, if your body is too
alkaline or too acidic, strange things grow inside you. I am making that the
Bozo Button synopsis, but it is the basic theory.
To that end, Kris illustrates what certain foods, say meat, for example
will do to the human condition.
I won’t judge a person who is living with cancer. Until you understand
that point of view, then you will never understand what it is to be desperate.
To eek out a few more moments of your life. If it means wearing clown paint and
singing the Star Spangled Banner, you will do it.
If it means buying a juicer…you will do it.
As I read through her book, I still get the nagging sensation that
everyone who contributed to the work was probably either at Woodstock or, quite
possibly, was conceived there.
Peace, love and veggies is Kris’s slogan. I might have a distorted image
of myself (ask my shrink), but I’ll probably never be confused for a hippy.
As I tell all of those who ask, take things in baby steps.
I am what some would call a pescatarian or, what seems most popular
nowadays, a flexatarian. Over 90% of the time I am a vegetarian but I do eat
fish now and then and every five or 6 months, I venture into a lean cow.
I do what I do for health reason as well. Here is the new level,
however.
Baby steps.
First. Replace coffee with juicing.
Take that beautifully organic dark roasted goodness that embraces the
spirit every morning and replace it with a torridly orange, Martian green,
thick, watery, some pasty textured drink.
Okay I am being melodramatic but this is trauma for me. First it was
just for one day in the week. I won’t go into what sort of zombie with orange
lips I was that day.
Next, 2 days juicing, no coffee. I decided to use my juices for
breakfast. That’s right, you read that correctly – no chewing for me. No way.
For 2 days, no organic oatmeal, organic omega-3 eggs (blasphemy) or egg whites.
No apple juice infused cranberries or wild blueberries.
Just me, a concoction and a straw.
The funny thing about baby steps however, is that you wake up and the
change is already upon you.
I don’t know how far I’ll take the body cleanse. I’ll restate that I do
what I do for my own health. That’s not to say I wouldn’t take out a cub scout
carrying a devil dog or knock over a Dunkin for a Boston cream. Trust me, the
spirit is there. I just choose to not listen – much.
Next week, 3 days juicing. Wish me luck.
Crazy? To some, yes. Sexy? I’ll leave that to you…
