My Why.

So many thoughts/post ideas scramble in my brain sometimes, especially when I am out on a run. I have thought about this being a "running raw" sort of blog. I am training for a half marathon in November, using that as a platform for my raw transition as well. And there will be a smattering of that.

If I had a better camera I'd take stellar shots of my delicious juices (um. . pure orange and strawberry juice? Fantastic) and yummy salads. But, I don't. So, it won't be a recipe blog, and there are plenty of people out there that do wonderful jobs with that already, no need to sally forth with my own mediocre photography and recipe creation. Though, if I strike gold, I won't be shy about tooting my own horn.
No, for me, in so many ways, this is about so much more than food.
It is about being free, honest, strong, and open.
To illustrate my point, I want to give you a raw example from my life. This last week I went to Virginia to visit my sister and some other friends we hadn't seen in about a year since we'd moved away. It was a last sort of hurrah before the kids and I head to our respective schools.
I halfheartedly told my sister that I was *shrug* trying the raw lifestyle, but I quickly followed with excuses that I was travelling, and it was hard, etc. etc. etc. The truth was I had already compromised a great deal on the drive there, eating a burger and fries, a twix bar, and a bag of reese's pieces. I'd already accepted that I wasn't really going to stay raw on this trip, but I felt the need to announce I would "try" thinking that would make it seem like I was a healthy eater.
Oh, what a tangled web we weave. . . .
The sneaking, the stuffing, the hiding. It all happened. I snuck spoonfuls of ice cream, I took the kids places to eat just because I really wanted to eat there, not because they did. I bought donuts on solo trips to the grocery store. And I hid it all. I've gotten frighteningly good at that. By trip's end, my capacity for self-deception scared me, and I knew that I needed to press forward in this lifestyle, holding on to the prompting and urging within, to the spiritual confirmation I'd felt when I presenting this plan to the Lord, and no matter what. . . keep pressing forward.
And, I have.
Upon coming home, I started a two day juice fast to cleanse and recover from my weekend of chocolate cake fun. This was, I felt, a really important step. I need to feel at peace with hunger. I need to learn to breathe and not panic when I feel urges. I need to release food.
I actually really enjoyed this, and if we were made of money and could spend twenty bucks a day on fresh produce, I might never eat solid food again. But, two days was it.
And then I went to my mom's house. . always a place of regression.  I had decided to end my juice fast and my mom had fruit for me. . and sugar cookies for the kids.
I ate both.
And I found myself checking the cupboards for chocolate. And, of course, I found it. I'm not proud of it, but I'm not ashamed of it either. This is a process, and one I am determined to continue. It will take time. It will take time to recalibrate the way I view family togetherness. This lifestyle means that food will not be central to being together. I'll be on the fringes of eating often. I won't have birthday cake, I won't make birthday cake. I won't eat the same as my family. I'll have to say "No, thanks" more often than I ever have. That will take courage and confidence. It will mean standing up for myself, believing in myself, and trusting that though how I eat might not make sense to anyone else, and that many might make very valid arguments that it is far too extreme, it feels incredibly right to me. It feels centered and energized. And I am determined to make it work. When I picture myself (finally) able to live this lifestyle consistently, I immediately feel freedom. I will not live and die by the scale. I won't weigh and measure what I eat. I won't face parties or holidays with a thrilling trepidation because I am both excited to eat and dreading the decisions.
So, yes, it is extreme. But, hiding and sneaking and snacking and stuffing. . . that is pretty extreme too. Some are able to embrace moderation. These are the special souls who can stop at one brownie. I am not one of those souls. And so this is how I want to live. . . most of the time. I don't always want it. Many times I want a brownie. . and a candy bar. . and a pizza. But, I believe, that one choice at a time, the good will overcome the bad. And even with slip-ups and shortfalls, in time my body and soul will be free. And in the process, I will be stronger and closer to the God that gives me the power to change.