Health and Fitness – Lori's Life and Other Stuff

Face Punch

On the Peloton platform, they’ve gamified fitness utilizing badges and milestones to mark significant workouts. Garmin does this too, as does Apple and other fitness trackers. I have no judgment about this – I find them motivating. I would still move my body without them, of course, but it is fun!

We have a Sober Squad within the many Peloton sub-communities. We’ve had meetups and zoom meetings and cheer each other on during PowerZone challenges. It’s fun and like any fitness activity, having community and accountability helps! One of my sober Pelo buddies is reaching his 1,000th ride right about the same time I am so we had planned to ride a live class together. (Live rides are done in real time, instructors can see you on the leaderboard, along with the 1500 other people riding also.) Many members do these for milestones in the hopes of a shout-out. I am no different and tomorrow will be a live Millennium ride!

But to get to tomorrow, I had ride #999 to get through first. After warming up, getting my strength classes in, I noticed my left shoe wasn’t clipped in all the way.

The culprit. Also, don’t mind the dog hair all over my yoga mat. I had two “helpers”.

Luckily, I had another pair of pedals on hand. “No problem. I will switch them out,” I thought to myself. “Nothing is gonna keep me from tomorrow’s class!”

I grab my tools and the box with the other pedals in them and set to work. I watch YouTube tutorials (left side turns opposite) and learn all about pedal installation. I am a person who likes to dig in and do things. It frustrates me when I can’t figure something out. I mean, we live in the age of the internet, right?! Everything is figure-out-able.

I cannot for the life of me get the pedal to turn. I cannot get the old pedals off. I call Eric for moral support and to make sure I’m doing it right. Also to ask if we have any WD40 or any other brilliant ideas he may have, so I can get this job done. He offers to take them off when he gets home. That’s my last resort because A. I want to do this myself and B. I really don’t like riding in the evening and I want fresh(ish) legs for tomorrow’s fun.

After a quick trip to the store for WD40 – because of course this is the time to discover we are out, I return home. I spray the pedals down and pull and yank on the wrench. They aren’t budging. I grab something to eat while I wait for the WD40 to work it’s magic. I sit behind the pedal and try again. I pull, I grit my teeth, I squeeze my eyes shut, and pull again.

It comes loose!

Then the pain sets in as I catch my breath, realizing I have just punched myself in the face with my own fist and the wrench. I cry, both from relief that the dang thing finally came undone, and also because I feel the blood rushing toward cheekbone, now pulsing from the pain.

I move to the other side of the bike, crank that one loose, and happily avoid giving myself another Marsha Brady football-to-the-nose face. I install the new pedals, and as I sit there in stunned silence, I hear the garage door open.

“You did NOT come home just because of my pedal fiasco, did you?” I holler to Eric as he walks in, smiling.

“I did,” he replies. I burst into tears again. He laughs, I laugh – and show him that I got them off but not without injury. He hands me Tylenol and heads back to work.

I settle in to my new pedals, ready to ride #999. So I can then ride #1000 tomorrow with friends.

What adds insult to injury is that this morning I was just chatting with friends about yoga, meditation and finding that flow state while working out physically. That we can sit and be in the uncomfortable and how that translates to life outside of working out. Today was definitely not a meditative workout. It was far from zen. They can’t all be life transforming. Some are infinitely more memorable than others.

I have no doubt that the memory of riding the millennium ride will not be without the thought of a punch to my own face.

Lightbulb Moments from Sharing Sobriety

I recently shared my getting sober story within a fitness group online. It was a conversation that was real and honest and vibrantly highlighted the lessons learned in early sobriety, from the vantage point of where I am now. It was a great experience to be able to articulate why I find sobriety important and how it has positively affected my life.

“So because you got sober, your life is all rainbows and unicorns, right?”

Uh, no. That is not what I am saying at all. And it doesn’t work that way. (Like, at all.) During our conversation, we discussed the idea of the “Before and After”. Everyone loves before/after shots depicting dramatic transformation, be it fitness, dramatic weight loss, or a massive makeover. (Hello Biggest Loser and My 600lb Life) The dad-bod that gets ripped, the former addict gets sober and then healthy in the after picture, and even my own before and afters with fitness and sobriety show tangible evidence of change.

We look at photos like these and two things happen. One, the person viewing them thinks, “Wow. That’s awesome.” Then privately thinks “Good for them, but that’s impossible for me.”

What fails to show up in a before and after is the truth.

The truth in the before and after comparison is that the part that no one sees is the little line that divides the two photos. THAT is where the magic of the messy middle happens. The thin line that separates pre-and post- life – that is where all the blood, sweat and soul excavation happens. In sobriety and fitness, that’s were the real work BEGINS. It’s where the lying to yourself stops and the dealing with your stuff happens. It’s hard workouts, and meal planning and no more justifications on why you ‘deserve’ a break today. It’s where we discover what we are made of, and that we can, in fact, do hard things. We can swim against the current of a culture soaked in booze. That little dividing line that no one pays much attention to, needs to be widened to reveal what it really takes to get to where you want to go. The after shot? That’s a lie, too.

There is no after.

There is no “after,” no arriving at a mysterious destination of pink cloud bliss. Thinking that “one day I will…” fill in the blank with whatever goal is on the horizon. There is no after because once you achieve that goal, it becomes, “Okay, what now?” In our conversation, we decided to not call them Before and Afters, but Before and Durings, and I love that. Before and Right now….but no after.

Another big take away was a truth that has been thrown at me in various ways over the years, but took a long time to penetrate. I first read it in Don Miguel Ruiz’s book The Four Agreements. It was the second agreement to take nothing personally. When I began navigating social situations sans alcohol, there was a fading of some friendships. I wasn’t invited out with friends anymore…..and, it sucked. There’s a grief that happens with the loss of some friendships (more of that dividing line content). Whether it’s sobriety or fitness or some other choice – when we choose a path that we know is our next right step, some people will not join us for the journey. It’s not easy, and can be heartbreaking, but the truth discovered is that I am not responsible for other people’s reactions to my choices. Additionally, those reactions usually don’t have anything to do with me. It’s not my job to make other people okay. It’s my job to do the next right thing that brings me into integrity with who I am.

The universe (God, our conscience, that small voice inside – whatever you want to call it) nudges us in the direction we know we should go. We are really good at burying it. We numb that voice out with substances, ignore it with distractions, consumerism, endless scrolling and all the ways we stuff it down and shut it out. One of those nudgings that kept increasing in volume until I could no longer ignore it was this uneasiness with not only my drinking at the time, but also who I was versus how I was outwardly presenting. Whenever we’d have get togethers, I would come home and exhale – as if I’d been holding my breath all evening. I wasn’t showing up as myself in an authentic way. An introvert by nature, using alcohol gave me a coat of armor to be the extrovert I thought I needed to be. When I first decided to stop drinking, the people I told laughed. Seriously. They laughed in my face and thought I was joking. It ticked me off at the time, but now it makes me sort of sad. The reality was, they couldn’t see a life without alcohol. It was simply preposterous in their minds. By one simple (and difficult) choice, to no longer partake, I took one step into the direction of authenticity. Those friendships I discovered were not to be long lasting, and while it hurt, the chips had to fall where they did. Getting to acceptance of this didn’t happen over night, but it did happen, and over time, I learned that I would be okay.

This led to a chasing of authenticity that I continue to embrace. We all put on various armor to do life. For me, it was “putting on” extroversion. People do it in all manner of ways – artificial nails, make up, hair dye, fancy cars, designer labels, keeping up with the joneses – all the ways we project that the grass must somehow be greener somewhere else. As we take off the armor; lay down the booze, grieve friendships that were not meant to last (and in my case, that included no longer dying my hair and wearing makeup) we become more authentic with who we are. We continue to become who we were meant to be all along.

Stopping a destructive habit isn’t the end point. It’s just the beginning. It’s the spot where we exhale. Where we can be at peace in our own skin and excitedly ask “Okay! What’s next?”

We continue…

2000 Days

I don’t think about the day count much anymore, until someone mentions it in sober circles and I pull up the app and take a look. I recently hit 2000 days of sobriety.

2041 days today in fact.

Reflecting back on the sober time – it’s motivating, but definitely not a daily forefront-of-the-mind thing like in the beginning. It is now a part of who I am, a person who doesn’t drink. This isn’t to say that I don’t have thoughts that creep up out of nowhere from time to time. (And I shut that shit down quick.) It’s just more on the back burner, simmering quietly as life gets lived.

The typical posts on socials around the holidays and New Year’s in particular, are often sprinkled with clinking glasses, celebration beverages, etc. but it is also interspersed with Sober November, Dry January and the like. It’s encouraging. Part of why I decided to go “public” with my sobriety is that it provides a counter to the normalization of drinking. It may be one drop in the ocean, but at least it’s there. A happy, content, regular sober life.

I’m sure I would have eye-rolled sobriety posts before I was ready to receive them, and I doubt my little posts are any different for some. That’s cool. There’s a relief in not tying ones emotions to others’ reactions – in life and in sobriety. Other peoples’ opinions are really none of my business. That sounds a lot like emotional freedom to me.

Every sober anniversary I post something on socials about it. Little things, not preachy, but a simple “My DMs are always open” type of statement. I’ve had people reach out, curious. It’s one of the best rewards of living an alcohol free life out loud. If my risk of vulnerability encourages or helps one other person – than it’s 1000 percent worth it.

Yellow Orbs

Settling into our new home, we’ve been taking the dogs on early morning and later evening walks. The sun of course bakes the asphalt during the heat of the day, so walking at cooler times works best. (I love that yellow orb in the sky! So delightfully warm compared to the PNW, and not the intense humidity of South Texas.) Each walk we inevitably pass by a house down the road from us that has a gorgeous lemon tree. When we have driven by it, I have commented on how sad the lemons on the ground were and that I wondered if they gave them away to neighbors if they weren’t going to use them.

I must have mentioned the lemons enough times to exasperate the kids. “Why don’t you just go ask them?” they inquired, curious as to why I wouldn’t just go knock on the door of a random stranger and ask for some of their fruit.

“Um, because my skin would peel off of my bones and I might die,” I replied incredulously, envisioning worst case scenarios of being yelled at to get off someone’s lawn or some other such horror. We all laughed as we again affirmed that both my husband and daughter are the family extroverts that keep my son and I out and doing things, and we keep them semi-grounded with our homebody-ness.

Formulating a game plan for our next dog walk – we planned, in fact, to knock on the door of a stranger and ask for some of their fruit.

Our street is a giant hill that ends in a cul-de-sac, so it’s a great workout. In the shadow of the hills behind the house, we get cool evenings and delightful sunsets. We’ve seen countless giant monarch butterflies, geckos and my favorite jacaranda and palm trees. I love living in a place where purple trees grow. I love living where the citrus grows. I had forgotten how fresh and delicious produce here is year round. We had a watermelon the other day that both my son and I claim is the best one we’ve ever had. (Though we will keep eating all the melons to make sure!)

We rounded the corner, them on the side of the street with the lemon house, me with the dogs on the opposite side of the street with the doggos, primed and ready to keep walking and pretend I don’t know them if needed. Knocking on the door, they see a little sign noting lemons for sale with a money box beside it. Eric chatted with the lemon purveyor for a bit, then joined up with me holding not only lemons, but a long box. Lemon Purveyor and my husband had a nice chat about moving to the area recently and loving the neighborhood and thanks for the lemons and all the small talk. Somehow new to the area means “Thanks for buying some lemons, here’s a bonus, too!”

They reach me with lemons as big as my face that smell incredible! Eric laughs as he shows me the box is a pack of lightbulbs and shrugs his shoulders and we carry on our walk.

Today after a morning swim, farmer’s market fun, and other errands, we whipped up a batch of scratch lemonade that was liquid perfection.

Our closet lights also got switched to brighter, free bulbs! Not bad for an evening stroll with the dogs.

Community

Like most people who jumped on the Peloton bandwagon, I LOVE the bike that goes no where. It has helped me maintain fitness through the winters in rainy western Washington, a pandemic and homeschooling! All without leaving my house! With all of the modalities available on one platform (strength, stretching, yoga, shadowboxing, cardio, walking and running outdoors, and even meditation!), it really is like having a full service gym right in the house. The kicker though, is community. Having people that are in it with you – that’s what sets any fitness program (and life!) ahead of the rest!

Every time I hop on the bike and click into a ride, there are always other riders on the leaderboard. We high-five, (ironically by slapping their face – ahem – their profile picture), give encouragement and sling a ton of sweat. Within the greater Peloton community there are interest based groups on social media that further encourage and motivate. Like dogs? There’s a Peloton group for that. Peloton Dads, Peloton Moms, Vegans, Sober groups, U.K., Canadian and Australian groups, Power Zone people ….anything you can imagine there’s likely a subset of Peloton people with that interest. It’s awesome.

Some folks see it as a gamification of fitness. (But really, who cares if it gets people moving?!) Peloton recently released an actual game that has no instructors, but mimics a toned down version of Mario Kart, called Lanebreak. I’m sure the company did tons of research and psych analyses to figure out how to keep people engaged. While Lanebreak isn’t my absolute favorite (I like an instructor engaging with the class), I am not immune to the rewards that the screen passes out when I reach milestones in daily streaks, challenges, and miles ridden all bestowed upon the rider in the form of a badge. It’s honestly pretty ridiculous how motivating a little badge on a screen is. I know intellectually it’s laughable, but I cannot deny its effectiveness.

Badges can be earned for all kinds of milestones, number of workouts, personal bests in terms of power output, workout streaks, etc. I got an email from Peloton for a free gift from the apparel department for completing 15k minutes of time spent working out. Silly? Perhaps, but I’m not turning down free yummy workout duds!

This week marks my 2 year “Pelo-versary”. For two years, at least one day a week, I have done something for my health and wellness. It is the most consistently disciplined I have been for the longest stretch. And two years in, I still really love it. WIth all of the health stats and metrics measured, it’s not just riding a bike in my house and listening to music. It’s tangible evidence of health improvements. With Power Zone training specifically, you can see where your current fitness level is at, and grow it from there. It’s personal training at scale – and it is very motivating to see progress over time. You cannot beat the challenges within the Power Zone Pack community!

Brene Brown’s latest book Atlas of the Heart defines many human emotions, but explains that we are social being that desire belonging to the group. (Even us introverts!) Given the isolation of the last 2 years, it’s obvious that we need each other – in life and in fitness!

All the Time

Walking through the grocery store, I have thoughts and opinions all the time; ‘Don’t buy that – you don’t need it,’ or ‘Ooh! that lettuce looks fresh, I think I will make a salad later,’ or even ‘I’m tired, I know I’m going to order takeout tonight, but my kitchen will be stocked tomorrow when I’m ready to prep and cook!’ When you have social media, when you are around (and talk to) other humans, watch tv, see and hear advertisements – basically being a human – you form opinions, right? Of course. We all do. About all of the things.

One thing I did not expect when I stopped drinking was to see the pervasiveness of the promotion of drinking culture everywhere. When I drank, I found the cute workout/drinking memes cute and funny. If I was being honest with myself – I also found them comforting. It was comforting to know I wasn’t alone. I felt relief that I couldn’t be the only one who wanted and needed to justify overconsumption. If something is cute and funny, that disarms it and makes it less harmful/dangerous/addictive, right? If the marketing is to be believed, it sure is. It’s weird recognizing bullshit once believed.

Case in point; I found this “gem” on my social media feed. Multiple times from multiple people.

Food is magic for sure. Over time, eating healthfully reversed my own chronic diet-related disease. But I don’t think one bunch of asparagus is going to save my liver if I drink regularly.

While I am not a rancher, I do recognize a load of bull when I see it. Perhaps a better way to alleviate a hangover is to not have one.

By not drinking.

Just a thought.

I Know What You’re Thinking…

I don’t miss much about eating animals, but one thing I have missed is a really tasty BLT. Or a BLAT (bacon, lettuce, avocado and tomato) on toasted sourdough. There is something about the way the crunchy bread, complete with mayo all up in the nooks and crannies blends with the savory bacon, the creaminess of a ripe avocado, the juice of a fresh Roma tomato slice and crisp leaf lettuce. It really is the perfect sandwich. I grew up with BLTs. It’s handheld comfort food.

For many, the idea of giving up bacon when transitioning to plant based eating seems to be one of the hardest things. Once I made the decision, it wasn’t hard for me personally – once you know what it does to you, the pigs, the environment and the farmers it’s not hard to make the choice. (Cheese was my hardest to give up – I did it, but it was a struggle.) Now I miss neither.

Recently I saw Tabitha Brown’s Carrot Bacon video:

I LOVE HER! I love her so much I’ve tried a few of her recipes and I have never not liked one!

So I gathered my ingredients and got to work!

I wish there was scratch and sniff to give the full aroma effect!

Now, I know what y’all are thinkin’. I’m nuts. I’ve done lost my mind. It’s like cauliflower tryin’ to be something it’s not. I know.

I know.

And yet…..

IT IS SO GOOD.

I made this and ended up crafting these tasty words while I crunched and munched on the best BLAT I’ve ever had. It was DIVINE. The flavor combo of Tabitha Brown’s “concoction” as she calls it, with the sweetness of a thin carrot slice is the marriage of the flavor gods. I don’t know what kind of culinary magic this is, but it delivers!

Tabitha – I thank YOU!

For more information about plant based eating, effects on workers, the environment and animals, please check out the following sources:

The Bigger Picture

The FOK film

7 reasons why meat is bad for the environment

Obsession

Since last August when she arrived, I have rarely spent a day without getting in her saddle. I pedaled and huffed and puffed. I got a professional fitting, I joined the ~~cult~~, ahem, the Power Zone Pack. New shoes came, as well as a more powerful fan. I have cycled my legs off for about 6.5 months.

It’s been, to say the least, an obsession.

She is my Peloton bike. The bike gives me something with which to focus my training. It’s been a sanity saver in a year of crazy-making monotony. It’s anchored my days and my mind. I have become all of the Peloton memes and I don’t even care because I feel so good. This from SNL is my current favorite:

HILARIOUS!

With this type of training, power zone training specifically, the rider works within their own zones, and steadily improves over time measuring specific metrics, primarily power output. Yes, I am a stat nerd and love poring over the numbers and seeing how my average cadences have improved over time, hitting personal records, and even racing friends up the leaderboard.

This morning I took what is my 5th FTP test. This is an all-out effort for 20 minutes that calculates your FTP, or Functional Threshold Power. Everything you got, holding it steady (or not so), and leaving nothing in the tank by the end. Puking is optional. (I have never puked after the test, but I’ve been razor-thin close.) It’s a beast and if you let it, will mess with your mind. At the end of each 6-8 week challenge, there is the opportunity to take the FTP test – and update your power zones, thus making classes a smidge more challenging. Ever increasing time under tension, you get stronger, update work capacity, adapt, rinse, and repeat. It’s torture…. and addicting.

After reading many posts about strategies to attack this FTP monster, analyzing my stats and then setting goals – I climbed on and rode the plan. Complete with corny inspiration and strategy on the school whiteboard that is directly in my sightline as I ride:

Until about minute 14 when I abandon all plans and decide to just not die.

This creative cutie printed out photos of pom-poms to “cheer” for me!

Good thing my cheerleader came out during the warm up and not during the actual ride when I thought I might die!

Steady increases over time. Consistency trophies as the coaches call them. The 2nd test I was able to scratch out a 19% increase. Then 13% from test 4. The last 2 tests are holding steady at 6.5% increases each.

Annnnd in the end….I didn’t die. I did crawl away from my obsession with new zones. Not too much harder, but just spicy enough to be challenging. I will take it! My goal was to get my FTP over 200. Definitely not ready for that yet.

Yet.

It will come. Goals always do.

Scary

I have this thing: apparently I like to scare myself. I jump into things and then figure out the how. I ran track for 3 weeks in the 8th grade and then decided I hated running. When I signed up for my first running event, it was only because my friend said it was doable and dragged me along. I knew I could walk if we needed to, and we were actually doing this “let’s get fit” thing. Running races wasn’t something I thought I could do, let alone enjoy.

At 33 and post-baby #2 (over the course of 7 months while living in Hawaii) I did things I never thought possible. I ran a mile without stopping. Seems small, but it was big for me because I never thought I could.

Until I did.

It became longer. 5ks, 10ks, and even half-marathons. (That’s 13.1 miles. On feet.) It seemed insane, but when surrounded by others setting and smashing goals, the impossible seemed possible. Like, why couldn’t I do those things, too? At a get together during this time, over wine (back when I still drank), I made the slightly tipsy decision to run a marathon. I had lost weight, was working out (HARD) 5-6 days per week, and oh, why the heck not?! Never mind the fact that only a week before the marathon date, I’d already signed up for the Kualoa ranch Xterra half trail marathon. (Trail running DOES NOT equal a regular road race. At. All. Trail running is WAY, WAY harder.) But someone at the party said ‘It’s really very doable,’ as she explained a run-walk strategy. Impossible….becomes a maybe…becomes possible.

Our time in Hawaii taught me many things, including how to set goals for myself, how to dream big – even if it scares me – and that I can be a determined person when my mind is set. With 2020 being the circus it was, and the world in the chaos that it is, family, sobriety, and the bike in my living room that goes no where have been my outlet and sanity.

I haven’t run races in a few years due to injuries that get aggravated when I run over a 5k. After becoming a certified Spin instructor, my endorphin thirst was quenched on a bike instead of in running shoes. It’s been years since I participated in any events, but I still set goals and earn badges on the bike and through my fitness watch. (Side note: it’s the most trivial things like badges I find highly motivating.) The beauty of training this way is that metrics are measured which gives tangible evidence of improvement. I love improving.

Across the social pages along came the PeloFondo event. Riders set a mileage goal of their choosing, and then have 2 days to complete the miles. Thinking it would be fun and something to challenge myself before the next actual challenge begins in a week, I set my goal of 30 miles. Seemed achievable.

But…it didn’t really scare me. I’ve done 90 minute rides both indoor cycling and outdoor. So then I figured I could leave my goal at 30, but then actually ride 50 (because Garmin badges). That way I could play it safe, have a goal, but not push myself much harder.

A friend from the Hawaii days messaged years ago to say she was doing her first century ride. I remember this conversation vividly. (This was after we had all moved on to our next duty stations, but we still cheer each other on, even from across the globe.) This conversation planted a seed.

I swallowed and upped the mileage to 100.

One of the class instructors, Christine D’Ercole, often says in her classes to get curious. Instead of the mental chatter that tells us we can’t do something, that talks us out of all the things, she has this amazing motto: I am. I can. I will. I do. We change the chatter and get curious. What if I can do this thing? What if I can set a crazy-ass goal and actually achieve it? What if it takes forever? What if?

What. If.

I knew it would take me forever. I got ready and ordered the padded bike shorts and anti-chafing cream. (Somehow I missed the padded bike seat cover but my amazing husband popped out quick to the store and picked up not one, but two. He graciously fit one on while I was mid class!)

There were lots of stretching breaks between the classes. 2 peanut butter and jelly on whole wheat sammies, 3 apple pie Lara bars, 2 bananas, Nuun hydration tablets, and a LOT of water got me through. Not to mention the randomness of the post-ride feast!

Not necessarily pretty, but when you’re *hang*ry, anything edible tastes like heaven!

101.19 miles took me 6:30. Six and a half hours. (The marathon time was in this same ridiculous ballpark.) I will never win races or compete competitively, but I race me. (And…. occasionally my friend Bo. He typically creams me.)

3000 calories torched according to the watch. Four Garmin badges were earned:

(Seriously, it’s ridiculous that these little things excite me to the degree that they do.) The very last ride of the 12 completed today happened to be the 200th!

I am…..capable. I can….do hard things. I will….continue to set goals that scare me. I do…finish what I start. Thank you Christine for the words I didn’t know I needed.

It’s been a minute since I set a scary goal, let alone participated in a formal event. I missed it. I missed getting scared and pushing beyond that fear. Because really….why not? And what if?

Food Fun – Pita Pocket Joes

I love food, and part of my plant-based cooking excursions have been to incorporate as many healthy habits, as well as recipes, into our routine. It’s been ~~scary~~ ~~fun~~ *interesting* testing out various internet recipe finds on my family. My husband grew up eating meat and typical American fare, so finding recipes that 1. don’t scare him, and 2. he likes and 3. pulls from flavor profiles he is familiar with is always my quest.

When we were first married, I grabbed the can of Manwich to throw on some ground beef and sling onto some buns. Eric loved them. I did, too, but it wasn’t very healthy and I knew there had to be a way to get that same flavor without it being from a can and loaded with high fructose corn syrup and other crap I didn’t want in our diet. Shortly after, I found a scratch recipe for sloppy joes that we both liked and was in our regular rotation. I pulled my old recipe book today to get inspired to come up with something new, as well as something I could modify into a plant-based option. Vegan Sloppy Joes for the win!

Diced onion, fresh green peppers and garlic kick it off nicely. Bringing in bold flavors with vegan Worcestershire, mustard and cumin round out the yummy richness. In place of the meat? You could use many things. I have used bulgar wheat in the past which has a similar look and texture to fine ground meat. Tofu crumbled, air fried and then incorporated into the sauce would also work fabulously! Since we had tofu tacos last night, I used red beans and barley.

I served it up with a side of coleslaw (plant-based, of course) and dinner was served! Sounds weird, but it was quite good and filling!

RECIPE:

Whole Wheat pita pockets
4-6 leaves of lettuce or other handfuls of greens
Red kidney beans, 2 cans, or 2 cups cooked from scratch
1 cup barley, cooked
1 diced green pepper
1/2 onion, diced
3 cloves garlic, minced
2 tbs tomato paste
2/3 cup ketchup
1 tsp mustard
2 tbs brown sugar
3/4 tsp chili powder
1/2 tsp cumin
1 tbs garlic powder
1 tsp onion powder
1/2 tsp vegan Worcestershire sauce
1 tbs BBQ sauce (sugar free if possible)
1/3 cup water
Salt and pepper to taste
- If you like it spicy: add pinch of pepper flake and/or dash or two of hot sauce
- Cook barley according to package directions, set aside. Cook dried beans in instant pot, or drain and rinse if using cans.
- Sauté onion and green pepper in large skillet. Add garlic and cook over medium heat until soft and fragrant. Add dashes of water to prevent sticking. Add all other ingredients and stir until combined and saucy. I prefer adding all spices/ketchup/Worcestershire/brown sugar before adding beans and barley.
- Once sauce has come together and sugar has dissolved, add in beans and barley to coat with sauce. Adjust spices to taste.
- Stuff leaf lettuce bean/barley/sauce into pita pockets. Serve immediately!

Chickpeas could be used or canned jackfruit would make great mock pulled-pork type of sandwich!

Daughter liked it, and even liked the coleslaw – which is a win in my book. Beans aren’t Eric’s favorite, but to be fair, he liked the flavor.

Guess we’ll have to try jack fruit next!

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