The Fit Student – A Well-Dressed Asparagus

I loathe shopping. I make celebrity dresses look like Rhino underpants. But guess what? I still look better in a t-shirt than Lady Gaga in her on-stage Victoria-Secret John-Lennon look—yes, John Lennon in a negligée.

Recently, I ducked into a high-end store to scout business attire. A purple dress caught my eye, although I haven’t donned a dress in a decade. I stole away to a dressing room and slipped it on. When I looked in the mirror, I gasped. Beautiful. The dress fit as if designed with me as the mannequin.

I rushed to share my shock with my boyfriend. He calmly said, “It’s the training.” The moral? When you train weights six hours a week for four months, shopping gets fun. But, training alone doesn’t make for shocking shopping sprees: I adjusted my diet—but out of necessity. Why? Because I had underwent daily nausea and steady x-rays, biopsies, MRI’s, and bloodwork, but none of that had given me a diagnosis. So, instead of seeking bad news, I munched plants. Plants helped halt my eyes from crossing and my body from crying for 24-hour sleeps.

Plants—and exercise—slimmed me down fast, too. Jeans that wouldn’t tug past my thighs suddenly fit. How did I do it? I downloaded the cronometer app to record my calories and exercise. I maxed the recommended daily allowances (RDA) eating mostly plants: fruits, vegetables, beans, nuts, and grains.

Now, I plan on fewer X-rays, MRIs, and ultrasounds. Diet and exercise cured me, it seems. Colin Campbell, author of The China Study, claims that our diets can cure us of cancers, diabetes, and heart disease—often better than the doctors can.

So, eat plants and exercise to slim down and slip in gowns. Heed Campbell’s advice on plants to cure disease and sweeten old age:

• The key takeaway? Eat plenty of plants. “People who ate the most plant based foods were the healthiest and tended to avoid chronic disease” (p. 7).
• Munching plants can lead to “less cancer, less heart disease, fewer strokes, less obesity, less autoimmune disease, less osteoporosis, less Alzheimer’s, less kidney stones, and less blindness” (pp. 2-3).
• And devouring plants can reverse disease: “Dietary changes can enable diabetic patients to go off their medication” (p. 3).
• Yes, chewing plants can reverse the most life-threatening disease: “Impressive evidence now exists to show that advanced heart disease, relatively advanced cancers of certain types, diabetes, and a few other degenerative diseases can be reversed by diet” (p. 23).
• Your diet can either cure or cause cancer: “Cancer growth can be turned on and off by nutrition, despite very strong genetic predisposition” (p. 23). By “nutrition,” Colin means healthy plants. Health dangers, on the other hand, lurk in “consuming animal-based foods, including all types of meat, dairy, and eggs” (p. 21).
• Yes, animal proteins worsen cancer: “Casein, which makes up 87% of cow’s milk protein promoted all stages of the cancer process. …” (p. 6).
• Too much animal protein triggers cancer growth: “Protein proved to be so powerful in its effect that we could turn on and off cancer growth simply by changing the level consumed” (p. 6).
• So, substitute animal protein with plant protein: “The safe proteins were from plants, including wheat and soy” (p. 6). Beans offer great protein, too. “There is a mountain of compelling research showing that … plant protein … is the healthiest type of protein” (pp. 30-31).
• If you get sick, then, sure, see the doctor and take the medicine—but start chewing plants. “Drugs and surgery don’t cure the diseases that kill most Americans. Your doctor probably doesn’t know what you need to do to be the healthiest you can be” (p. 2). (Doctors can be dumb when it comes to diet.)

When I felt daily nausea, I searched for anything that healed: fresh air, cold showers, bananas, less sleep, kiwi, and gym workouts. And then these healers became lifestyle.

And, oh, that purple dress. Today, I peered at it again—on sale. No longer need I shop Mark’s Work Wearhouse for saggy mom-pants. No, I’ve got a plant figure now—like a well-dressed asparagus.

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