For the first time in my life, in 2015,
I gave up something for Lent. Like, actually gave up something for Lent. Not
like a facetious “I’m going to give up cocaine for Lent” kind of thing but an
actual, conscious attempt to give up something that I was probably going to do
during that period if I didn’t make a specific effort to not do it.
I gave up meat.
To be specific (and pretentious, if inadvertently),
I adhered to a lacto-vegetarian diet. I did not eat fish, as is so common on
Lent Fridays, nor did I eat eggs (I made an effort to avoid eating foods in
which eggs were used as an ingredient, though admittedly this wasn’t a part I
went super out of my way about), but I did consume dairy. Anyway, I’ve made
some observations about it so, yeah, here they are.
1.
Giving up meat is surprisingly easy to do: I guess before I
go any further, I should explain why I gave up meat. As far as Lent goes, I’m
not Catholic, nor even particularly religious, but I have plenty of family and
friends who are, and I do respect the tradition. Even if you don’t believe a
word of the Bible, I do think it’s a pretty solid humanist value to be moderate
and to break free of your own vices. It’s something I’ve done a lot lately in my
life.
As I’ve written about before, I reached
a peak weight in late 2013 of what I approximate to be somewhere in the range
of 260 to 270 pounds. As of Saturday morning, at my now-weekly weigh-in, I
weighed 157 pounds. I did this essentially through cold-turkey dieting—I ate a
huge amount of food on a Sunday, felt bad thinking about it throughout the day
on Monday, stopped off at Schnucks for a bunch of Slim Fast and Lean Cuisine
meals on the way home from work, and didn’t eat fast food for nearly six months,
haven’t had a non-diet soda since, etc. After I got my weight under control, in
September 2014, I recognized that I had become addicted to caffeine. Not “I
like caffeinated drinks”, as I’d previously rationalized it, but that I needed
it to function. I had a Diet Mountain Dew on a Thursday, suffered through a
long weekend of headaches and rough sleep, didn’t have a drop of caffeine for a
month, and have reached what I consider a respectable point of moderation (it’s
currently been 22 days since I had caffeine and when I do have caffeine again,
I’ll be sure to not have it the next day—simple things like that to avoid a
relapse).
Anyway, I thought meat was going to be
like my psychological addiction to junk food or my physical addiction to
caffeine. Not that I’m particularly carnivorous by nature, but I’ve never been
one to necessarily avoid meat. I even tried to wean myself off meat a little
bit before Lent started, going a few days at a time without eating it. But I
figured a week or so into it, I’d really be craving meat. But…nope. Not really.
I had more vegetables than I normally
did but I also ate a bunch of other foods, too. The notion that you need meat
for protein in the 21st century is completely insane, and the notion
that you need meat in order to eat enjoyable food is even crazier. I still ate
fast food—somewhat less, but when the weather got nice, I enjoyed walking the
mile-plus to Taco Bell for bean burritos or to Subway for a Veggie Delite
sandwich. I enjoyed taking advantage of the Blues scoring three goals and
winning and thus allowing for half-priced Papa John’s, and thus allowing me to
spend four bucks on a small cheese pizza. I also drank as much beer as I damn
well felt like. Throughout the process, in contrast to the majority of the preceding
fifteen months, I wasn’t losing substantial amounts of weight. I ate a pretty
fair amount. It wasn’t the healthiest vegetarian diet, sure, but it’s not like
I was going to be super-healthy around the construct of omnivorism, either.
There was occasional “event food” that I
missed. I went to a couple family gatherings with ample appetizers I could not
eat. But really, that was about it. As a decidedly not picky eater, any meat I
briefly desired was quite easy to replace in my diet.
2.
People care if you eat meat and I’m not sure why: I
told as few people as possible that I was giving up meat for Lent. This was
largely because my least favorite part of vegetarianism is the smugness
associated with it. Like I said, it’s not difficult to do. But it was also
because people resent vegetarianism. Like, not resent people who brag about
being vegetarians—these people are objectively annoying. People resent people
for their diet.
I’ve read comparisons of the social norm
of eating meat to the social norm of being religious and, really, how crazy is
that? You shouldn’t discriminate against somebody for being nonreligious but I
guess I get it—religious beliefs often form one’s worldview and sense of
ethics, so a person fears somebody does not adhere to their sense of right and
wrong because of their religion. But how shallow is a person who considers
their eating meat to be a fundamental part of who they are? How is it not just
a pretty minor attribute? To quote humorless vegetarians The Smiths, “What difference does it
make?”
My mom was extremely worried about my
brief flirtation with vegetarianism. Mind you, my mom was not worried when I
was, as is categorized by the World Health Organization, “severely obese”, at
least not vocally. I got more than a few blank stares if somebody heard about
my diet. The idea of being “other” scared people, even though there are many,
many, many people I saw multiple times during Lent that noticed nothing
different about me because they didn’t know I wasn’t eating meat because,
again, it doesn’t really matter.
3.
I guess I’ll eat meat again…if I feel like it: I
think the ethical arguments against eating meat are strong. But I don’t
necessarily think they are irrefutable. Let’s put it this way: I find zoos far
less ethical than eating meat. I place more of a premium on treating animals in
an ethical way than on keeping them alive, though I can understand if the nuts
and bolts of this philosophy raises a few eyebrows.
Anyway, after the last forty days, I’m
willing to at least consider placing more stock in the ethical dilemma of
eating meat if for no other reason than it’s kind of easy to do. The modern
world has made a wide variety of food so easy, so convenient, and so cheap that
I’m willing to actually consider the world at large because, frankly, it
doesn’t inconvenience me too much to do so, as horribly selfish as that may
sound. In the meantime, I’m in no rush to eat meat. I’m not going to spend my
afternoon downing beef jerky. I didn’t spend last night giddy with excitement
that once midnight struck, I could hit up McDonald’s and just go to town on it.
I’m not going to do it for the sake of doing it. If I decide I really want to
cook a nice chicken breast to go with broccoli for dinner, I suppose I will. If
I decide I want the whole wheat penne with meat-free pasta sauce that I ate
even more than usual (which was often) since Ash Wednesday, I’ll do that too.
I can’t imagine any of you care what
I’ll eat for dinner tonight, but then again, I’m often amazed what people bother
to care about.
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