Somewhere I had heard the term “faileo paleo”
When I searched the internet, it appeared that it was the term coined for all those chocolate brownie “lookie likie” moments that we all go through adjusting to this paleo life..Its where you spend your money on fancy flours (that in your previous life you would only have used to paper walls) in the vain hope that their mysterious gluten free-properties will somehow give back the sugary sweet taste of your favourite doughnut to the stodgy mess you are baking. It doesn’t by the way for those still tempted to try….
For M and me the moment came at an expensive farmers’ market in Otley. Clutching our ostrich burgers and plump wild boar sausage (traditional “bargain” impulse purchases), we stumbled across a tatty man with a stall selling “gluten-free” mixes for Yorkshire Pudding. These, it transpired, were knocked up in his kitchen in Halifax. Looking at his grey teeth and narrow eyes, I rather suspected he had begun his kitchen career cooking amphetamine but nevertheless to M it appeared we had stumbled upon the Holy Grail. Countless Sundays by then, he had paced the floor adjacent to the cooker waiting for the “Paleo” Yorkshire Puddings to rise. Oven temperature would be strictly controlled, lights darkened and woe betide anyone who accidentally opened the oven door without permission…….It never worked. Without fail the Sunday roast would be served accompanied by shriveled burnt discs of hardened flatness but boy did he try!
Further examination however, confirmed that the tatty man had simply replaced wheat flour with maize starch. I swear I saw M suck his teeth in disgust– to this day he denies it but it certainly ended our brief flirtation with “faileo paleo”.
When you make a commitment to this life, there is no going back. Once you get past the bit where you feel sorry for yourself you begin to see what works and doesn’t work for you and life becomes alive with possibility…..
In life it seems we each carry our own story. These stories define us, make us who we are. And we hold onto these stories to excuse our lack, no matter what: my husband left me for another woman – I must be fat, my mother abandonned me at birth – I must be sad, I have red hair so life will be challenging – I’m sure you can find your own story and fill in the gaps. And for some it can be a very lonely place..
We went primal over a year ago. At first it was about weight loss, food, exercise but somewhere down the line I became aware that this had become a lifestyle and there was no going back. And with that came the realisation that my story had gone, I had stopped living my life from that place. Every choice every decision made now comes from a much simpler place: will it make me feel better and not just better but fantastic. And that is for me, the wholly unexpected bonus of living this paleo life.