I had only managed to swim a mile once in my pool and my health seemed off that summer. I still pushed myself, despite the nagging feeling that something wasn’t quite right. I completed the swim, but I did so slowly. It felt like I was swimming in oatmeal. At age 48 I wondered, was I getting too old for such exertion?
Recently I dreamed someone who knew a thing or two about good eating led me to an Italian deli/lunch counter in some cosmopolitan city. The display case featured many dishes. Double-decker focaccia sandwiches caught my eye, but I wistfully passed them up because I knew they were too carby for someone with type 2 diabetes.
As I learned more about ways I would need to change my eating habits, I envisioned perpetual hunger....