A Test of the Emergency #Vegan System

Free for the Taking, an Izzy's Sandwich on Servatii's Roll

This is the vegan equivalent of finding a Brinks truck crashed on the side of the road with $100 bills scattered across the shoulder.  Do you take it and buy a Dura Ace equipped carbon wonder bike from Italy?  Or do you do the right thing, call 9-1-1 and be the hero?  This is a made-in-Cincinnati Izzy’s Reuben Sandwich.  In the world of salted cured meats, nothing trumps the corned beef and sauerkraut piled high, slathered in Million Island dressing and served on Cincinnati’s famous Servatii’s pretzel bread bun.  Simply pulling the meat off would be like "fixing" the smile on the Mona Lisa. 

Did You Say Catnip Tuna?

Maybe I haven’t been clear in my description.  This is two great tastes in one entity.  It’s like Cincinnati Skyline Chili topped with Montgomery Inn Ribs.  Mmmm.  An Izzy’s Reuben on a Servatii’s roll is to Cincinnati as Jerked Chicken on the side of the road served with a Red Stripe beer is to Jamaica.  It’s Saz’s Barbecue with a side of George Webb’s breakfast to a Milwaukeean.  Its Gino’s East pizza covered in Southside Polish sausage to Chicago.  It’s a Thurminator burger topped with a pair of Blue Jacket’s tickets to those in Columbus.  It’s Christmas’ candy cane covered gingerbread house.  Its catnip covered in tuna juice to Juneau… my cat, not the city.

The choice between that bag of money or this sandwich is a life changing decision.  Consultants and advisors from GE and P&G may need to be called in.  Since they’re no longer working on the Space Shuttle program, I may dial-up NASA's best mathematicians to pour over excel spreadsheets and sandwich trajectories to help me decide which would have a better impact on my life. 

Jackpot!

Sure you could take the bag of money and go out and buy an Izzy’s Reuben and have enough left over to quit your job and eat it while riding off the threat of clogged arteries on your new Trek Madone, but you’d be missing the point.  I did hill repeats last night.  I’m 4 pounds below my target race weight.  It’s 9:30am.  I just ate half an apple.  I have an appointment in 30 minutes and I am surrounded by hungry native Cincinnatians.  This is about instant gratification.  This is about taking the kill before the Hyenas get it.  This is a case of how much would it really hurt.  This sandwich is now or never.  Dammit they’re taking it into the work kitchen.  Noooooooo!

My Lunchbox

Right down the hall is a free Izzy’s Reuben Sandwich served on special edition Servatii’s pretzel bread.  In my 2010 Vancouver Olympic lunchbox is a bag of carrots, a tub of hommus, a box of raisins, a banana, a fruit strip, half a Honeycrisp apple, and leftover vegan Tikka Masala in a plastic Glad container.  This is a test of eating a plant based non-processed food diet.  This is a test of the Emergency Vegan System.  This is only a test.

Thankfully, I passed.

#Vegan: The Cheesepocalypse is Neigh!

Sign off I-94 North of Illinois 

There is no cheese in our house, and I’m originally from Wisconsin.  I know.  I’m probably going to hell for that.  The only thing saving me from the eternal deep fryer is a box of Cheese-Its in the cupboard, which is certainly not a whole food and may or may not contain actual dairy products.  I’d have to squint too hard and they’re too damn tasty for me to bother to check the label.  Two weeks ago we began the switch to a plant based whole foods diet.  


We still have a few meat, dairy and processed food items in the kitchen.  However, when the Cheese-Its are gone, the needle on my cheese-o-meter will be at zero and the seven signs of the cheesepocalypse will begin, starting with my name being put on some sort of black list at the Wisconsin border.  Personally I think it’s kind of fun that the only sausage in our house is in a package with a label ending in “furky.”  Furky is funny, as is Tofu.  Still, I attest.  I’m not a Vegan.  I'm not doing this to save the animals, to better the environment, to cleanse or challenge myself.  While those are admirable noble pursuits, when it comes to food I'm a selfish idiot.  This is for me.  

My Lunch: May Be Vegan  

So don’t refer to me as Vegan.  You got that punk?!  However I do like the sound of vegetarian.  It's sort of smart sounding like librarian.  This may come off a bit ethereal, but I can’t live within the walls at 123 Vegan Street.  It really struck me when I washed the egg container from the fridge and stored it away in the pantry for good.  Even with no more eggs in the house, I have no goal to be Vegan, vegan...whatever.  The label sort of annoys me.  


To me, this change in diet is not a final destination.  I’m not quitting meat, dairy and processed food.  I like to see things more positive.  I’m simply trying to eat a plant based and non-processed food diet.  You don't quit smoking.  You put more fresh air in your lungs.  To me, even as a bike crazed dufus, giving up entire groups of foods is like a New Year’s resolution to exercise everyday, a maddening premise destined to disappoint, a recipe to over promise and under deliver.  The way I see it, I equate this change in diet more to yoga.  You’ll never be perfect.  The benefit lies simply in the practice.  While there may come a day when I wish there would be a cheese-patch to deliver a steady stream of melty-gooey goodness into my veins, eating this way is simply a day to day, meal to meal exercise in being healthy. 

Furky...that's funny!

Seriously, I’m not Vegan or vegan, and I'll struggle with the capitalization issue and the fact that the word vegan has the same amount of letters as pagan for the rest of this article.  Regardless, to me, being vegan implies judgment.  I can’t live with that over my head everyday.  For goodness sake I grew up Catholic.  I may not be able to handle guilt, but I can eat a plant based whole food diet and reduce my risk of stroke, heart disease and cancer.  Easy peasy.  It’s not about whether I’ll eat turkey on Thanksgiving, have a meat drawer full of fruits and vegetables, have a homemade Christmas cookie with real butter or whether or not I'll be able to finish that never-ending big 'ol tub-o-mayo in my fridge by 2019.  If the question is can I be Vegan, the answer is: maybe.  If the question is can I give myself a better shot at living a long healthy life, the answer is: certainly.  There are more than 20 stages in the Tour De France.  You don’t need to win them all to take home the yellow jersey.  

Tis The Season For Spreading Cheer, Junk Dusting, and Taint Drying

The parking lot at the gym and the spin class sign up sheets are starting to fill up. Here’s some helpful tips to get the most out of your membership.

Do use the convenient bench in the locker room to rest after your extremely vigorous steamy hot shower workout. A bench! How awesome! Who doesn’t wish the bathroom at home had a place to sit, rest and pull on your socks. It’s pure bliss. Don’t, however, put a towel down. It could be dangerous! Research shows slips and falls cause most injuries. Be safe. Your bare skin allows more grip on the over shellacked bench surface than a thick soft fuzzy gym towel. So, bare-bottom that bench. That way you won’t slide off when putting your man-powder all over your junk. And, if you have extra long old-man berries, just wrap them around the edge of the bench, like a third hand for that Robo-Grip effect.

Do wear bib shorts to spin class, they look pro. To look even more pro, like you’re preparing for the Tour time trial in front of the team bus next to Lance, don’t put the straps over your shoulders. Let them dangle. Bigger folks will appreciate giving that Thanksgiving spare tire room to breath in that hot spin room. If you are particularly hairy, match those oversized bibs with an equally undersized jersey. That way when you bend over to reach the handlebars, you can show off your personal old-growth Arenberg Forest and scenic valley to the lovely ladies behind you.

Do get everything you can out of your workout. Don’t hold anything back. Spin classes with jump intervals are perfect for working out that extra gas you have pent up inside from the double bacon cheeseburger you had for lunch. With the way spin bikes are lined up at the gym, there is no possible way that the person directly behind you will even know you farted. Who me?

Do shower after your workout, but don’t forget to dry EVERYTHING off. There’s nothing worse than walking out to your car in below freezing weather with water left to crystallize on your taint. That’s exactly the reason they put taint dryers in the gym locker room. Use the wall mounted one with the chrome rotating blower to get the general wetness off your lower trunk. Then use the hand held taint wetness eliminator to get those hard to reach places like between your cheeks and under your belly.

Do drink every chance you get. Don’t get dehydrated. Immediately after your 30 minute treadmill run, zip over to the drinking fountain and take a few gulps. You’ve earned it! Don’t worry about the sweat dripping off your forehead, off your arms, down your hands and onto the public bubbler. You seriously could die or go into shock if you take needless time to wipe the perspiration off your body before drinking. (Bubbler is Wisconsin speak for drinking fountain.)

Do stay in the zone. Don’t lose your focus, especially if you need to use the restroom mid-workout. Take care of business as quickly as possible and get back to yoga class or your free-weight session. Don’t take the chance of forgetting which pose or set number you were on. Everyone knows those drips pooling in front of the urinal are from condensation of locker room steam, not because you forgot to shake and dance. No one ever goes barefoot in a locker room anyway. Also know your heart rate could drop while washing your hands. So, get back out there asap! Grab a hold of that yoga block and five pound hand weight and focus-focus-focus.

Do ignore everything I said. Don’t spread your grossness.

Mean Cuisine, Zingers and Combos

290 Calories

36g Carbs

20g Protein

7g Fat

Are you kidding me?  For chicken with angel hair in basil cream sauce?  Load up the cart honey!  They’re ten for ten!  “Ooh you always eat so healthy,” my coworkers gush as I heat up my Lean Cuisine with a yogurt, and diet soda visible in my lunch box.  It smells so good.  What a sensible meal, they think.  They and I are horribly wrong.  The box may say 290 calories.  The yogurt, raisins, granola bar, and fruity snack bites might bring the total of my lunch closer to 700 calories.  Still a reasonable number. What my coworkers don’t see and what are not listed on the Lean Cuisine Nutrition Facts are the calories and fat content of the Zingers and Combos that I’ll no doubt eat at 2:30pm to compensate for the caloric deficit I’ll be running mid-afternoon. 

Damn I love Zingers and Combos.  I think I hooked up with Dolly Madison in a previous life.

I did some research.  I studied the Lean Cuisine box even more closely.  Guess who’s listed as the distributer of Lean Cuisine on the box?  Nestle.  Uh huh.  Now I’m not saying there is a conspiracy here, but I would hedge a bet that right next to Dolly Madison’s Zingers and M&M/Mars’ Combos in our vending machine is a product from Nestle full of chocolaty goodness.  No doubt if we ran out of Zingers and Combos, a Nestle snack would be next on my afternoon feeding frenzy radar.

This has happened to me at least 3, if not four times in the past few weeks.  I pack a lunch for work with a Lean Cuisine.  “Ooh I’m so healthy,” I think as I try to cram the box in my lunchbox along with a yogurt, soda, granola bar, a box of raisins and a tiny 80 calorie bag of Welch’s fruity bites.  It’s seemingly so much food, I can barely zip the top closed.

Then at 2:33pm when I’m biting into the icing on my third devil food Zinger, reality sets in.  That lunchbox, although stuffed so full the zipper is tearing, only contains roughly 700 calories, barely enough to keep Eva Herzigova alive.   The typical man my size needs about 2000 calories a day to function, not including the 1600+ I’ll burn on a two hour ride after work. 

I have found a man-sized lunch that doesn’t leave me wandering toward Satan’s vending machine.  It's two open face veggie burger sandwiches with cheese on a big ass bagel.  I’m not sure on the exact calories, but I’d bet that big fat everything bagel packs over 400 calories.  Combined with two slices of cheese and veggie burger patties, is more like an 800 calories.  Add the yogurt, raisins, granola bar and fruity snacks and I’m packing a 1200 calorie relatively healthy lunch. 

You know what the difference is between a 1200 calorie lunch and a 700 calorie lunch?  About three Zingers and a bag of Combos.