Oh, Christmas. A day filled with tasty deelights that normally I am fairly able to resist. However. A whole day in the kitchen spent creating foods I could eat netted: a rather dry gluten-free banana bread lost in the valley between savory and sweet, a raw chocolate cheesecake that tasted like it had collided with a truck of raisins, and as a last desperate attempt to unite whatever contents in my fridge I could turn into a palatable dessert, chocolate-covered bacon.
Mercury retrograde has arrived.
I showed up at the holiday potluck with my dish of pig candy not really cognizant of the fact that I'd probably want real food within the next few hours. Yet when I put the dish down on the buffet table, my eyes landed on a crockpot of a childhood favorite: Stovetop stuffing. And instantly, I was starving.
Fast forward to yesterday, laying on my yoga mat. I was stiff as a board. All my back pain returned. I could barely turn over, and had to skip a few of the savasanas in the floor series. I hobbled home, took a shower, and swore off food from my childhood.
I don't know why I thought I had immunity from gluten on Christmas. I certainly don't have it any other day. But this was the first time I saw how clearly my food allergies are connected to my musculoskeletal issues. Time to dust off the ol' juicer and get my house in order. It's a new year comin'.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment