Final Post

Around fall when they're nice and ripe you want to go out on the flats with a bucket and pick a mess of berries. Then, mix those berries with crisco and sugar. You've now made agutuk or Eskimo ice cream. Traditionally it was made with fish and seal oil, but I've only had the berries and crisco kind. You're likely a little queasy right now thinking about this treat, but I ate berries prepared like this at every potluck, graduation, birthday party or celebration I went to when I live in rural AK. I tell people about this treat sometimes now that I live in PA, and 9 out of 10 times they're grossed out.

Thing is, isn't like every treat in aisle 5 the same thing? Some fat, some sugar, some flavor. Why do people get grossed out at berries covered in crisco but chow down a Little Debbie cupcake? If anything, at least with agutuk you know what you're getting. Maybe that's where the disconect is. You can lie to yourself with the granola bar and say "this is healthy" because you have no idea what is in it. You need a PhD in Chemistry to understand the label, so we assume it's good for us because the box says it is. Of course, as PCPers, we know that's nonsense. The only thing "good for you" is food. Real food that you can understand.

I learned a few things on the PCP. I learned that I do like real food. I went months without fast food and didn't really miss it. I didn't miss potato chips or soda. I was drinking at least a pop a day and eating Wendy's three days a week minimum. Then I stopped and I lived. Ninety days later and that habit is gone. I learned that I like strength exercises and even jumping the rope. I haven't done either seriously since the project ended and I'm starting to really miss it.

However, I did miss a nice BLT, an Italian sub, or some buffalo wings and a cold beer. And I've had a lot of wings since the project ended, but that's okay because I was aware of what I was doing. I was eating something I enjoy. I knew it would make me groggy later and it was worth it. I'm not here to live an life of denial, proving to myself forever that I can not eat desert. Last night my father in law made a lovely apple cake and I had two slices. Ala mode. Guess what? I didn't die.

I mean look, this might seem like I'm taking a tone, I'm not, I really respect the people that can do the PCP and follow every rule, that did each set to completion and really did reach peak condition. I'm not going to lie and say I did. Hell, the sorta-six pack I had developed has already started to fade.

But for me the most important part of this whole thing is to quit lying to yourself. If you're going to eat bacon then eat bacon. Don't tell yourself that it's good for you. Don't convince yourself that you'll balance it out later with an extra hour on the treadmill in the sweaty, loud, oppressive gym. Pardon my French, but just fucking enjoy it. Realize what you're doing. Be, as the zen crowd says, mindful. And, if you're not going to enjoy it, if it isn't going to be worth it, then don't eat it. Sounds simple, but is very very difficult. For me at least, the PCP was a 90 day re-hab from the mindless eating of junk food that was running me down.

I say good luck to everyone else, this was fun, keep at it and enjoy life. Patrick, sorry about the delay, last week was...eventful.