All the more reason to ride a bike.
This morning I was watching a B Rated film starring Claire Danes and Joaquin Phoenix as I drank a cup of green tea when the cleaning ladies arrived. I had set my alarm to get up around eight am, but had accidentally set it in military time and didn't succeed at waking up on time. (I didn't have anywhere to be, but I don't like oversleeping. Too much sleep is not conducive with the lifestyle I want to lead - I can sleep when I'm dead!) Despite not having any breakfast I strapped on my running shoes, that's a turn of speech as they are not velcro, and got out of their way to toodle around Whitby for some exercise. It was the perfect day for a jog because there was a temperate breeze and the sun was beautiful without the intense you-have-no-ozone-layer-left feeling you get in Southwestern Ontario mid-July.
When I got back I made myself a soymilk smoothie with frozen blueberries (filled with anti-oxidants!) and strawberries (more vitamin C then an orange!) and chatted up Heather and Margie as they finished up accounts and what have you. Heather asked if I was still a vegan and I told her I was more lax about it now, but for the most part I was. Heather was intrigued and we talked about the nutritional merits.
Veganism has always kept my diet vegetable centric, which I am thankful for, and while it started out as being a crusade for the rights of animals it is hardly for those reasons anymore. While Dave would direct you to other websites for his reasons for a meat-free diet, I'm not the diatribe kind of girl I used to be... at least not for the preservation of bovine lives. My veganism became more about my health as well as the planet's health; I pride myself on having effectively diminished my ecological footprint.
Despite the fact these reasons satisfy my rationale I still can't deny my aversion to dead creatures. I have many friends who are enthusiastic omnivores and still refrain from making those steakhouse jokes about "mmmm, dead stuff" or "the bloodier the better" like my Dad tends to. I understand the necessity for the separation between what is on your plate and what went into the factory farm. I still, however, cannot stomach the idea of "dead stuff". Every time I drive past roadkill my stomach lurches. Not just jostles in a mildly nauseated way, it actually turns over and then twists itself into a pretzel. I have to hope that I didn't eat off curry when that happens.
Even worse was the ride home on the GO train from Karen's. I looked up from my sudoku as I passed a few suburbs and there's this one house that has a stable and field for a horse behind it. I always notice it because I writhe with jealousy for it, but this time my eyes were diverted from the horse to an unmistakably dead and rather large deer just outside the proprety. Rigor mortis had long set in and the poor thing's mouth was open and legs were stuck in a splayed position. I was in no shape to be passing roadkill (the train lurches its way to Whitby) and barely made it to the bathroom on time.
Bambi was the first film I ever saw and my mother dragged my screaming three year old self from the theatre when I clued in during the credits that Bambi's mother was indeed not returning. Perhaps my affinity for somebody's mother has hungover with me...
When I got back I made myself a soymilk smoothie with frozen blueberries (filled with anti-oxidants!) and strawberries (more vitamin C then an orange!) and chatted up Heather and Margie as they finished up accounts and what have you. Heather asked if I was still a vegan and I told her I was more lax about it now, but for the most part I was. Heather was intrigued and we talked about the nutritional merits.
Veganism has always kept my diet vegetable centric, which I am thankful for, and while it started out as being a crusade for the rights of animals it is hardly for those reasons anymore. While Dave would direct you to other websites for his reasons for a meat-free diet, I'm not the diatribe kind of girl I used to be... at least not for the preservation of bovine lives. My veganism became more about my health as well as the planet's health; I pride myself on having effectively diminished my ecological footprint.
Despite the fact these reasons satisfy my rationale I still can't deny my aversion to dead creatures. I have many friends who are enthusiastic omnivores and still refrain from making those steakhouse jokes about "mmmm, dead stuff" or "the bloodier the better" like my Dad tends to. I understand the necessity for the separation between what is on your plate and what went into the factory farm. I still, however, cannot stomach the idea of "dead stuff". Every time I drive past roadkill my stomach lurches. Not just jostles in a mildly nauseated way, it actually turns over and then twists itself into a pretzel. I have to hope that I didn't eat off curry when that happens.
Even worse was the ride home on the GO train from Karen's. I looked up from my sudoku as I passed a few suburbs and there's this one house that has a stable and field for a horse behind it. I always notice it because I writhe with jealousy for it, but this time my eyes were diverted from the horse to an unmistakably dead and rather large deer just outside the proprety. Rigor mortis had long set in and the poor thing's mouth was open and legs were stuck in a splayed position. I was in no shape to be passing roadkill (the train lurches its way to Whitby) and barely made it to the bathroom on time.
Bambi was the first film I ever saw and my mother dragged my screaming three year old self from the theatre when I clued in during the credits that Bambi's mother was indeed not returning. Perhaps my affinity for somebody's mother has hungover with me...