The winter wind hits my face as I walk home from a late night in the library. My mind wanders to the dinner I ate not long ago, chicken thighs grilled by yours truly. I may have gone slightly overboard in the charring department, but the flavours in the yogurt-based marinade are accentuated in a way one would not experience otherwise. I don’t believe perfection exists, but with a fire in front of me and tongs in my hand I come damn near close. And besides, a little char never hurt anybody, right? Well, it seems this is where I am horribly mistaken.
I learned in my genetics class that carcinogens from grilled meat can be mutagenic and cause cancer. I flashed back to all the burgers, steaks, hot dogs, bratwurst, fish, etcetera that I have eaten over the years. I could not believe it; I wanted to furiously object. What am I doing to myself? Single nucleotide polymorphisms, base pair insertions and deletions, dear God what does it all mean? Why have we been cursed with such knowledge? My dearest friend, my beloved propane-powered companion, has been slowly poisoning me this whole time? For a brief moment, I thought this revelation of mine would have long-lasting effects on my identity. But who would I be if I let this change who I am? I know what I am doing is unhealthy, I know this will hurt me, but I don’t care. I would rather God strike me down than let go of my greatest passion, hobby, and skill. A life without grilling is worse than death.
A life without grilling is worse than death.
Everything is going to kill you. Your trips to the hot dog man could be taking years off your life. The glass of wine you had with your friends, the cigarette you had outside the bar, the sunburn you got over the summer – all of these moments shave the time away. Is it better to live in fear, or to live in the moment? Are we slowly killing ourselves, or are we just having a good time? Is there a difference? The problem remains the same, no matter how many ways you look at it. Is it possible to live an enjoyable life and simultaneously steer clear of carcinogens, alcohol, nicotine, or any of the poisons we love so much? I personally am willing to bear the brunt of carcinogens for the sake of culinary perfection. Whatever changes are being made deep in my genetic code are probably for the best, and who am I to question the universe and the strange ways in which it works? The answers we find to these questions are unique for all of us. These are only my thoughts on the matter. This is the opinion section after all.
So, what are we supposed to do? A perfect place to start on our journey for the truth is to look at what not to do. One person who I believe exemplifies this is Brian Johnson, a famous tech billionaire turned lifestyle guru. One look at his website tells you almost everything you need to know about him. Strictly regimented meals, ingredients measured down to the gram and the millilitre, an exhaustive list of supplements, an unyielding daily schedule with an 8:30 pm bedtime, and many similar practices are showcased there. Now, nothing he promotes comes from a place of mal intent; he is just a man trying his best to be healthy. But when you start transfusing blood from your son into your own body, maybe you have taken your journey one step too far: it’s no longer about health but about outrunning death. Death, though, is always faster than us. We will not live forever. Making your life’s mission to live as long as you can and sacrificing your earthly vices to do just that, might not be the most balanced way of doing the only thing we can do: live.
Making your life’s mission to live as long as you can and sacrificing your earthly vices to do just that, might not be the most balanced way of doing the only thing we can do: live.
Some of us forget that we are imperfect creatures with imperfect wants, needs, and habits. Yes, my health is important to me, but some days you are challenged by your roommate to eat an entire pizza in one sitting. Some days you are handed an ice-cold beer by a dear friend of yours. However, some days you are asked to go for a 10-kilometre run to the top of Mount Royal and back, or you play spikeball in Jeanne Mance Park for five hours straight. We are cursed with just the right level of intelligence to know that we are in control of almost nothing. Yet some of us still endeavour to reign over our lives with an iron fist. The obsession with being as healthy as humanly possible is rooted in this desire for control over our lives, and even our demise. This quest will go unfinished for all of us, even in the face of Brian Johnson’s valiant efforts. We will never have absolute control, we will never achieve absolute perfection in our diets, lifestyles, routines, and so on. Sometimes we get sunburnt, or eat a Twinkie, or drink too much and go to bed at 4 am. We do these things not because they are healthy, but because they are fun, they are good, they are enriching. Pull out a thesaurus and slap a label on it yourself for all I care!
The focus of my life is having a good time.
The focus of my life is having a good time. That doesn’t mean fighting every day for absolute control over my health, and it also doesn’t mean having pizza and beer every night. There exists an equilibrium between the two, and I have neither the tools nor the willingness to find out exactly where that is. When I think of these decisions we make every day, I am reminded of a quote from the end of Blade Runner: “all those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain”. We must be happy they existed in the first place. And when it comes to control, I have realized there are some things in this life that we can control. I can control the heat level on my grill, as well as what I put on it. This weekend I am going to hang out with my dear friends, grill some steaks, maybe drink a glass of wine, and go to bed later than I should. I hope that you, dear reader, can let go and allow yourself to do the same.
