One day, quite suddenly, I decided to go vegan. And because I am me, one of the first things I then did was order a starter of fish stock and langoustine, because I’d forgotten what a langoustine was. I also hadn’t read the menu very well, but still. Who the fuck orders the kind of food she can’t tell is yet dead or not and isn’t able to dismantle without the help of the waiter? Me, that’s who.
And because I quite like writing and making an arse of myself – voilà, here we are.
This blog is called The Meaty Vegan because
a) that has fewer syllables than ‘the meaty vegetarian’ which is closer to the truth but also less catchy and I’m all for twisting the truth for the sake of a good story and
b) I am not thin. I’m not fat either, but again, ‘the meaty vegan’ rolls of the tongue way juicier than ‘the slimmish pear shaped slightly beer bellied person who doesn’t eat a lot of animal products’, doesn’t it.
I won’t go all Gwyneth Paltrow on you. I didn’t have to convince myself to live a healthier, more sporty life – I already cook fairly healthy and I like running. Putting on my running shoes and actually going is always a challenge, but I experience the same sensation of pure unwillingness when I have to go grocery shopping, something I should be expected to enjoy because it results in food. But somehow, I always dread it. Both of it. And I’m always glad I went.
So, in short, no, this won’t be the ‘if I can do it, YOU can do it!’-type of blog, because honestly, you don’t need a blog for that (just a good pair of running shoes), and I also don’t have the cheerful energy for that shit.
For the next few training months, I just need an outlet to vent and you happen to be on the receiving end. Hope you enjoy.