If you know me well, you know that over the past two years, I've undergone quite the startling shift in diet and overall lifestyle. Perhaps most startling of all is that I didn't lose the equivalent of a small child in body weight, nor did I drop 5 dress sizes, or even look all that different now in pictures. But I did completely cut out a few staples of the Italian diet, ones that define both my cultural upbringing and my identity as Sammy - the professional eater. These staples are generally meat and cheese - and I managed to lose about 20 solid pounds in the process, that have not come back. Thirty pounds if you count the ten that did, from the peak of my fitness in LA.
I was never overweight (not by American standards anyway) but my clothes were just a lot tighter and I was a lot flabbier. For a long time, I thought I should really write a piece about how much "going vegan" changed me (while I'm not 100% strict, it's a much more apt description than "vegetarian" to my mainstream audience). But lately, I think the real story that needs to be told is how I'm slowly learning to untangle my identity from food, something with which I think we all struggle at one time or another. Or maybe I'm just a closet compulsive eater and this will be amusing for you- either way, it's time to share.
First of all, I want to get something clear. I am aware that some of the things I eat are not vegan. One of them is fish. Another is anything resembling a chocolate chip cookie. But when I talk about my diet, I think saying that I "try to eat vegan" is a more apt description than "I'm vegetarian". Why, you ask? Well, because most vegetarians eat a shit ton of cheese bc it's the only mainstream thing they can eat. Try going to any regular restaurant and finding a vegan option. It's impossible. Most chefs only know how to make a meatless dish that includes dairy. Which is why I LOVE it when I can find a place that can do a great vegan dish that doesn't mean to be vegan- like veggie burgers and salads at 7A and Piano's. Hooray!
I'm not putting down vegetarians, but I think when I talk about food, people sometimes thing I am some kind of crazy. So to me, it's important to stress that a) my food choices are entirely health-based, and not ethical in nature. And b) that it really is quite hard eating mostly meals that do not contain meat or dairy (even though yes, I do eat fish on occasion).
But lately I have been experiencing an odd phenomenon that makes me wonder how people who have lost a crap ton of weight even cope. I moved back from LA in June of last year and, as I mentioned, I was in the best shape of my life during my stay out west. The temptations just were not there, the weather allowed me to run 6 days a week, and I was in a happy relationship with someone who shared my fitness goals and eating habits (that's pretty key). So when all of those factors disappeared, I was kind of like, Oh shit.
First the temptations came a-CRASHIN' down. Oh, what's that? Seventeen bars per city block and cabs to take me home at ANY hour of the night? YES PLEASE! FIVE vegan restaurants within a ten block radius and five MILLION non-vegan restaurants right next to them? SIGN ME UP! Lula's, the crack of vegan ice cream, just up the street from where I am living? INEEDITTTT.
Next came the relationship ending- enough said. Living on a couch for three months will prompt you to spend as much time OUT of the apartment as possible, which thankfully during summer was pretty awesome. But come November, I realized that my habit had stuck, and not only was I eating out almost every night, I was drinking almost every night too. And it was cold. As balls.
This meant no more running.
So, in a matter of months, I lost what I totally took for granted--my LA lifestyle--and slowly my body began to realize it. Now, while my weight should not matter to me even remotely as much as it does.....it does. I view it as my indicator of how "well" I'm maintaining my old life, which when you think about it, is both silly and impossible.
It's like putting a fucking Panda in Central Park and being like "Ok, now go play, it'll all be fine!"
Maybe I sound like a bit of a brat- haters gone hate, especially when it comes to food stuff; I'm well aware of that. I'm simply noting that New York really is a tough place to stay healthy when you are going through some shit/don't have boatloads of disposable income.
Somehow, I was able to shop at Whole Foods on a WEEKLY basis in LA, on my measly $35K (ohmygod, Venice Whole Foods, the times I have considered jumping a flight to see only you, I cannot count.) And you know I bought nice, expensive shit. I'm talking like $5 "raw cookies" and kale chips. But the cost of living is just a different beast out there. Ask my personal trainer - OH that's right, yes; I had a personal trainer who advised me on diet and exercise remotely, from her home in Santa Barbara. I could probably get one session at Equinox for the cost of the amazing six-week plan she provided me at the time.
Meanwhile, over here in the depths of hell [the city in winter], it is approximately $40 for about 3 days worth of veggies, none of them organic. I have not checked out an NYC Trader Joe's yet, and that is my fault. Maybe I'm afraid that if they are expensive too, I truly have no more hope for this season.
The sunlight is different, the energy is different, NYC is a HUSTLE, and trust me, I'm a hustla. But I don't always want to hustle. Sometimes I just want to be in bed at 11pm without having spent a fortune on food and alcohol, without feeling like I'm a senior citizen. It was ok to do that in LA. Nobody knew me there; they just accepted me for what I was at that time in my life. It just doesn't feel that easy here.
NOW NOW-
Don't get me wrong, I make do. I have tried at least 8 different yoga studios, joined and cancelled David Barton Gym in a matter of two months, and settled on the amazing, fantastic, life saving Bikram Yoga Lower East Side. I also diligently spend approximately half of my paycheck at the Juice Press, like a good little New York vegan. But none of it compares to that Santa Monica beach run, where I was warmly greeted/catcalled by the Venice boardwalk bums at 7am every morning, whom I miss more than words can say.
I even did a blended juice cleanse last week, which I actually ended early because I felt myself clinging to aspects of it that were beside the point. Now, here's where all of my girlfriends get annoyed with me and tell me I'm being crazy (they are nicer than that, but that's what they want to say): I am obsessed with the number on the scale. It's 5-10 pounds higher than the golden number "157" that I was at my fittest (See? No one is starving up in this piece, you can all relax). Yes, my weight fluctuates 5-10 pounds WEEK to WEEK. Tis the nature of my bod. That number represents all the hard work I put into looking and feeling good in LA, and the sense of powerlessness I feel over my circumstances these past few months is a direct corollary in my mind.
* * *
I used to get really excited when I spotted a member of the Strokes druggedly ambling around the East Village. Many parts of me have changed, but the sum is still intact. All of this recent change has forced me to look within, and find stability in who I am, and not what I look like or how disciplined I can be with my diet and workouts. I went through a similar battle with stuttering, and I'm finally at a point where I am proud of what I have to say - not how I say it. Sometimes a girl's just gotta have a slice of pizza.
I went to Bikram tonight after a few weeks off and nailed every pose- then had the most delicious smoothie I've ever tasted, and went home early to clean and write. It felt a lot like LA, and even though I know I won't wake up to the sunshine and beach three blocks away, I am oddly comforted.
Maybe because I know that tomorrow, when I pick up my green juice, I'll probably see Julian, singer of the Strokes, parking his baby carriage outside the Juice Press, as he usually does, and I'll know that for him too, sometimes things change.
Sam
