It's not that I've taken a picture and written about it every day for 82 days. It's not that I've exercised for 36 straight days. (Even though those are also personal bests.)
It was that I had a salad for two days in a row.
My husband loves vegetables. I don't. To say I hate them would be more accurate. Can't stand salad. Can't stand radishes, broccoli, cabbage, kohlrabi, peas, carrots, spinach, arugula, kale - all of which we planted this year. Tomatoes? Only if they're in salsa. Cucumbers? Only when they are pickles.
The fact that I handpicked the spinach, arugula, and radishes from the garden isn't a big deal. Making a salad from them was no big deal. But the fact that I actually ate some of that salad these last two days is a very big deal. It is quite comical to watch me eat it, though. I can't eat it plain, but I don't like salad dressing. So I mix it into something else we're having. Take a bite of potato and pile the salad on it. Anything to get it down. And down it went two nights in a row.
There are a couple vegetables I wouldn't mind eating so much. Of course they are starchy vegetables that aren't as healthy as the others. At least I'll be able to eat potatoes and corn without grimacing.
Come on corn, grow!
