A new apprieciation

An athlete of any kind must keep their bodies at a tip-top shape in order to be successful. I started wrestling at the age of six, in England, and in those day, it was purely for enjoyment, however, my wrestling career became serious my junior year of high school, and many foods that I had once loved so dearly were gone, in hopes a of a championship.

I stayed on a strict high protein low carb diet for over two years, and it was miserable. I no longer ate my beloved Salt&Vinegar Kettle chips (pictured) and mom's delicious lasagna was out of the question. For two years my taste buds had been abused by the flavor from plain salads, dry chicken and protein shakes.

This made my cooking obsessed French mother very worried, and the skinnier I got the more she tried to lure me into the kitchen, to smell the enticing aroma that wafted through the air as a delicious plate of homemade lasagna baked in our oven. Or at six in the morning after I returned from my morning run when she had prepared a full breakfast complete with crispy bacon mouthwatering hash-brows and a large milkshake. It killed me every time I turned down her offers for food, but I wanted to win, at any cost.

However, in February of 2010 I hit my wall. I was at the second largest tournament of the year, a huge deal for me, and my overbearing coach. Even on a diet I weighed about 140lbs I had decided to wrestle at 130lbs for this tournament. For me this meant a solid month of a 800 calorie a day diet, and a solid week of pretty severe weight cutting, you know, running with trash bags, exercise bikes in saunas, that sort of thing. At the tournament I weighed in at 130.00lbs and promptly passed out. I wrestled a good tournament and ended up getting 3rd.

My mother on the other hand had decided this was enough. And after various meeting with dietitians and even, to my own humor, a psychologist, my mother decided it would be best to lock me in the house, and gargantuan bowl of spaghetti and not let me out until it was finished.

I gladly accepted.

As I ate the pasta it seemed as every bite exploded in my mouth with the sort of flavor one would expect from a meal at a five-star establishment. It was as if each little piece of sauce was performing CPR on my previously neglected taste buds. As a wise man once said, "The tomatoes tasted as if they had been picked under a warm Tuscan sun". I finished the impressive bowl before I knew it, from that moment forth I ate all that was prepared for me, although sometimes I had to pass or the fried fish or fries, my new appreciation for food had been born.