Unbound

Portland's dedicated and fenced dog parks are a boon to dog owners like me. Safe from motor vehicle traffic, they provide a place where we can allow our dogs off leash to run as fast as they can and play with other dogs. If a dog is social and he or she likes to be with other canines, it can be a great experience for everyone.

The human beings at dog parks, me included, tend to stand around with chuck-its and/or lattes in hand while dogs romp. I reap satisfaction seeing my dog-friends' floppy-lipped smiles as they race to meet new canine playmates. When tongues hang to the ground, I know they've met their activity quotient - though I have not met mine. I can head home with dogs who are tired and happy.

Another kind of pleasure greets me when we leave the confines of postage-stamp parks behind and strike out into the wilder world. Free of leashes, dogs can run as fast as their legs will take them or stop to smell the roses. Okay - no roses are ever involved, nor rosy smells either. But my canines love to explore. Noses all a-twitch, they zip hither and yon whenever we find a new venue safe for hiking together.

Chances to get the exercise I need and opportunities to explore the natural world are something I could not live without. Being limited every day to the parameters of an official dog park might help me to spring a gasket or two. I wonder if dogs feel the same - a need to stretch not only legs, but eyes and minds, and in their case, noses. With a long view down the river's edge, the worries of the day can fade into the background. I like to breath hard and feel my muscles work, it brings me fully into the present moment. In the meantime, the dogs race and screech to halts, roll in smelly dead stuff, sniff out fascinating messages in holes and under logs. Soon I've cleared the cobwebs from my mind, shaken off the day's stress, and chuckled at canine antics. Like my beloved canine buddies, I can return home dog-tired.

While I'm lovin' the dog parks, I love to escape them too.

Sacajawea Dog Park

 

First off on my tour of Portland's dedicated dog parks is Sacajawea. Located on 75^th just north of Prescott, it is less than five minutes by car from my NE Portland home. On busy mornings, it can make a quick, fun stop. Armed with a few tennis balls and chuck-it, three dogs can be, well, dog-tired, in thirty minutes or so.

Connected with tiny Sacajawea Park, the dog area is small. I walked the perimeter with time to scoop poop and toss a ball repeatedly in less than five minutes. But it is adequate to stand at one end and lob a ball as far as you can, allowing a dog to run full out to retrieve it.

As one of the newer dog parks, it has a nice two-gate system for easy entry and exit. Garbage cans are located at each exit and plastic bags are normally on hand. Someone – I don't know who – supplies water in plastic jugs and water dishes have always been present when I am there.

There is a conspicuous lack of shelter, not a tree stands inside the dog area, so no respite from pouring rain, or no shade on a sunny day. The surface is grassy, though I'm sure that by mid-January, it will be a mud mess.

Rarely crowded, it could be a nice place to take a dog who dislikes too much company. On the other hand, my social pup is a tad lonely there most days we stop by. One gentleman I've seen a few times takes advantage of the birch-bark trail outside the dog fence. He drops his dogs inside, then jogs a few laps on the trails, his dogs following along inside.

Most days, I prefer a larger area for dogs to romp and me to hike. But I am quite happy to have such a fun little play area so close to home.

Dog Park Reviews

Three dogs found their way into my home and family. All are highly social, well-behaved, and friendly to man and beast. Lovely pitbulls, they can romp at a dog park with canine society with nary a raised lip. Contrary to common opinion, they are not about to "snap." The eldest has been with us for eight years without altercations. The youngest makes just about everyone who sees him chuckle with his goofy good looks and easy-going attitude. The third, the middle child, has just one focus – "throw the ball, throw the ball, throw the ball." No time for big, bad pitbull antics, she's got balls to catch.

Nicholai, my Dead Dog Walking (he now lopes through celestial fields and occasionally I think I hear him whisper in my ear), required hikes in isolated areas due to his independent and protective nature. Portland's many populated city parks held no interest for him, or for me, and so I left them largely unexplored. Now, in the company of one, two, or even all three of the bully-kids, I can investigate the relatively recent phenomenon of designated, fenced – hence safe, official off-leash recreation dog parks.

As late as the mid-2000's, there weren't any such dog parks in all of Portland. There were unofficial meet-up areas where dogs and dog-owners clashed with other park users. I mostly avoided these areas. Supervising unleashed play was just too stressful. Dogs weren't safe from passing cars, cyclists weren't safe from dogs, kids weren't safe from dog-poo; frequently the whole scene felt like a lose-lose proposition. The situation erupted in 2004 when numerous dogs were poisoned in Laurelhurst Park. Resulting rhetoric on all sides was emotional and sometimes toxic, but the end result was positive – the development of designated dog-parks throughout the Metro area.

This fall, with Izzy, Kelley, and Barney by my side, I plan to visit all of Portland's dog parks. I'll dash off my own little pitbull and people review – ease of access, size, surface, amenities. On my list are Brentwood, Chimney, East Delta, Gabriel, Normandale, Sacajawea, and Wallace. If you know of another designated, fenced off-leash park in Portland please let me know. I thought I'd visit the parks in alphabetical order, but life showed me otherwise. So far, I've visited Sacajawea, Normandale, and Gabriel.

Maybe I'll see you out there.

Not Again

I'm pissed at cancer again. Those sinister little cells that spin out of control, unwanted and dysfunctional in someone's body. My sister this time. Again. Already.

Being angry at cancer is silly. Just a cellular error, the malignancy doesn't have an agenda to take my sister - or anyone else - out. It only seems that way. Seems cancer returns with a vengeance, malicious, with the intent to eat my sister up, gobble her down like the legendary big bad wolf.

Originally diagnosed with breast cancer in spring of 2010, she underwent surgery, radiation, and chemotherapy, followed by estrogen blocking treatment. Just recovering from treatment, tumors struck again, in brain, in liver, in lymph nodes.

What I'm really pissed off about is the prevalence of cancer, its skyrocketing incidence in human and animal populations. Hell, while I was visiting Montana during my sister's brain surgery and immediate recovery, I could not help but notice the destruction wreaked on mountain trees by the little pine beetle. How stands of red, dead, and dying trees looked like tumors on the hills, how the disease is spreading, so like a cancer amongst the mountain pines. For centuries, there's been a balance between the mountain pine beetles and the forests, bugs culled only the weakest of trees. Now the temperatures are just a tad higher - a degree or so - and the soil a touch more acidic. The new environment shifts the scale toward the bugs, they thrive and the trees die - in groves.

Sooner or later, we're going to have to start to get it. We're using the land and water too hard and it's having deleterious effects. Sooner or later, the effects are coming to get us all, one way or the other. What's it going to take before we - each and every one of us - does something different, something serious, something to lighten the load on this old earth before it falters and finally dies? I worry that it will take too much and when we finally recognize we have to act, it could be too late.

I am using the power of the sun to dry the laundry. I rode my bike to the grocery store and to the nursery for fall lettuce, kale, and broccoli starts. These are small steps, but there is less than no excuse not to take them. To do the things I can to stem the tides of global warming, excessive power consumption and environmental degradation. I wish I had the power to eradicate cancer, and that is probably what pisses me off most. No matter what I do, it will still be here. Cancer will still threaten my family, my friends, even my dogs and wild animals.

But I must exercise the power I do have. the power to change what I can. Besides, the bike rides are lovely and the laundry smells great fresh off the line. I hope to reduce global warming and eventually save somebody somewhere from cancer.

Fifteen Minutes

Trotting along a beach on the Columbia River, I was struck with how easy, fun, and inexpensive it is to practice preventive medicine. There I was, in dilapidated clothing – though I had a cute knit wool hat to top off the sandy, torn, dog-drooled black pants and jacket – on a broad beach under a clear sky, breathing fresh air, enjoying the playful company of my ball-obsessed dogs. Walking briskly this morning, I reduced my risk of a heart attack or stroke by fifty percent and cut the chances of contracting breast cancer in half. I strengthened my bones, staved off Type II diabetes, and kept my weight in check.

The above statistics have been demonstrated conclusively in reliable studies published in peer reviewed medical journals. When the big wigs discuss what kinds of care should be covered in health plans, the new buzz-phrase is "evidence based medicine." Well, the evidence showing exercise preventing serious illness is unequivocal. I wonder then, why TV ads push statin drugs like Lipitor for times "when diet and exercise are not enough." There couldn't be an ulterior motive … could there?

Turns out, the evidence shows clearly the statin class of drugs does not prevent heart attacks or strokes. Did you get that? Lipitor, Zocor, Crestor, and their cousins – while they do lower cholesterol, they don't reduce the incidence of heart attacks or strokes at all. That's per the evidence. It's unclear exactly what role high cholesterol actually plays in cardiovascular disease. But I know I don't want to suffer a stroke with or without high cholesterol.

We're talking simple exercise here. Getting up off the couch and walking briskly for fifteen to thirty minutes. That's it, that's all. No equipment or special clothes needed. No jogging, grunting, or even sweating, just moving for a few minutes per day. To save our lives.

When our walk's complete, growly dogs are calm and grumpy woman feels serene. We've got strong hearts, flexible joints, and less likelihood of serious disease, but better than that, my breath comes deep and muscles feel fluid. Boredom vanquished and aggression curbed, dogs curl with noses tucked under tails and snore in bliss.

All the evidence I need.

Winding Down

Dead Dog Walking is winding down. Reluctant to say that last goodbye to my old man, arriving at a final post is hard. But slowly and surely, I am moving on; playing with Kelley and Izzy, being a mom, getting back in shape after so many many weeks of mandatory rest for eye recovery, ramping up to see more chiropractic patients/clients once again. I won't forget my dark and handsome canine man,but life is whisking me ever onward.

I am shifting my blog posts to my new Wordpress website: www.animotionchiro.com. As my process of blogging has been totally personal and organic, I don't know exactly when I'll write the very last post here. But the day is coming and coming soon. The Dead Dog is walking no more.

I would feel honored to have faithful readers and followers (and stalkers too) follow the new blog.

REINCARNATION?

Our deviant squirrel met me at the back door early this morning as I prepared to take the dogs for our daily constitutional; right at the threshold, sitting there … waiting. "Aaagh!" I cried, and jumped back. Though I find her terribly cute, I haven't forgotten the strength and determination she put into biting my finger. Our interspecies relationship took a serious hit in the trust department with that chomp. Though I could stomp her out of existence, she doesn't seem worried about that – and for good reason. It must be incredibly obvious even to a tiny squirrel brain; I am a classic care-taker chick. The chances of me doing in some cute mammal, who oddly enough seems to need me, are nearly zilch. (If one of the dogs murders the squirrel, I'll call it nature – but me, off our furry friend? I don't think so.) Codependent impulses aside, I'm awfully curious about what motivates her bizarre behavior.

A visitor recently remarked she thinks our rodent fan is Nicholai, come back from dog-heaven in another form. I imagine my ninety-five pound squirrel killing-machine of a dog reincarnated in the fuzzy body of his former prey, struggling to convince us to let him in the damn house. There is some kind of karmic poetic justice to Nicholai's return as a vulnerable member of the lower portion of the food chain. The timing is right and the squirrel is damned certain she belongs in our house. Trapped inside a wiggly fluffy-tailed tree-climbing, nut-eating, one pound fur-ball, Nicholai would be so mad; the image makes me laugh out loud.

I wish I thought there was anything to it. I miss the old guy and wish he were still here walking with me. But I remember how I could trust that canine boy – powerful jaw, sharp teeth and all, he never bit me. Much as I'd like to have my Nickle-pickle back in any form, I doubt this is it. No, this little dudette has her own thing going. What it is, I don't yet know.

But I sure am curious.

Food Reading List

Food Reading List

I've found the following books informative and compelling. Read, read, read if you're concerned about your own health or the health of a family member or even your dog or cat. We are what we eat.

The Omnivore's Dilemma – Michael Pollan

In Defense of Food – Michael Pollan

Eating Meat – Jonathan Safran Foer

The Antioxidant Miracle – Lester Packer

The Better Brain Book – David Perlmutter

Anti-Cancer – David Servan-Schreiber

Detoxify or Die – Sherry Rogers

Poisoned Nation – Loretta Schwartz-Nobel

Anti-Oxidant Revolution – Kenneth Cooper

The Meat You Eat – Ken Midkiff

Natural Strategies for Cancer Patients – Russell Blaylock

The Complete Idiot's Guide to the Anti-Inflammatory Diet – Christopher Cannon

Pet Food Politics – Marion Nestle

Foods Pets Die For – Ann Martin

If this doesn't keep you busy for a while, you're either a foody like me or you have too much time on your hands. More exercise, maybe?

Basic Fatty Acids for Eaters

Essential fatty acids are so-called because they are essential to our lives. These vital fats are used by our bodies but not manufactured inside our bodies, thus we must obtain them from our food. These fats are used as building blocks for important hormones and hormone-like substances that mediate all kinds of processes. We need to acquire two basic types of fats from our diets: omega-6 fatty acids and omega-3 fatty acids.

The most common dietary sources of omega-6 fatty acids are corn, cottonseed, sunflower, safflower, peanut, soy, and canola oils. These oils provide us with linoleic acids which are converted in the body to arachidonic acid and then prostaglandin E2. Prostaglandin E2 contracts or relaxes smooth muscles (such as in blood vessels) and performs other necessary functions in the body. Too much prostaglandin E2 leads to inflammation and creates fibrosis, pain, degenerative joint disease, vascular disease, and immune system dysfunction. Prostaglandin E2 is the number two cause of free radicals in the body which facilitate the speed of aging and the development of cancers. Animals such as cows, pigs, chickens, and fish fed corn and soy as major components of their diets instead of the green food nature meant them to consume, conveniently convert the omega-6 fatty acids right into arachidonic acid so when we eat meat from them, we are one short step and a few cox enzymes away from this inflammatory molecule. Typical of our western approach, rather than fix the problem at the source, we have developed a number of cox-inhibitor drugs to stem the tide of inflammation production in our bodies and hopefully reduce the effects as well – pain and heart disease, for example.

The most common sources of dietary omega-3 fatty acids are flax, hemp, and walnut. These alpha-linoleic acids are converted in the body to eicosapenataenoic acid, or EPA. EPA is a powerful anti-inflammatory. EPA is further converted in our bodies to docosahexaenoic acid or DHA. Both EPA and DHA build brain synapses and increase the production of serotonin and dopamine. These fats help are known as the "feel good" fats because they alter our chemistry toward a pleasant mood.

It used to be that we could pretty much eat food and acquire a balance of essential fatty acids, not so anymore. We have interfered so much with the growth and production of what we like to call "food" that while it sometimes still looks like the old-fashioned real thing, it often bears little internal chemical resemblance.

According to clinical tests, most Americans have an omega-6:omega-3 fatty acid ratio of greater than 10:1 – and in many cases, much greater, while experts agree that to be healthy, we should have ratios of 3:1. To get our fats back in balance and hence lose weight, decrease or eliminate chronic pain, and lessen the chances of heart disease, cancer, arthritis, and Alzheimer's, we need to drastically cut our consumption of "6's" and radically increase our consumption of "3's." Your dog or cat should do the same to manage degenerative conditions if they already have them, or prevent them if they don't.

How to in a nutshell: Cut OUT all factory farmed meat, poultry, milk, and eggs. Find and choose instead local farmers raising animals on grass. Organic is nice, but corn and soy can be grown organically and animals fed this will still fill you full of arachidonic acid. Eat less red meat from any source. Eat less period; more calories consumed correspond with more work for the body and more free radical production, hence quicker aging and more degenerative disease. Eat a full complement of colorful veggies and some fruit every day – dark green kale, zucchini, yellow squash, red bell pepper, purple cabbage, blueberries, carrots, and sweet potatoes. Nature has given us clues – each attractive color provides a vitamin, a mineral, or an anti-oxidant we need. We don't need to know all their names; we do need to eat all those veggies.

Eat wild-caught cold water fish. No farmed fish – they live in sewer-like conditions and eat, you guessed it corn and soy meal. (Or if its shrimp farmed in China, chicken cages are stacked above the shrimp ponds; guess what the shrimp eat.)Tilapia we get is farmed – much in Central America – and has more pro-inflammatory arachidonic acid than any other meat, nearly twice that of pork and ten times higher than hamburger. You might want to give it a miss next time you eat out.

Cut, cut, cut the consumption of carbohydrates. Those you do eat, make them whole, not processed. This will dump less insulin into your system which also effects the conversion of omega-6 fatty acids into Prostaglandin E2.

Finally, when all is said and done, we still need to supplement with high quality fish oil and antioxidant vitamins. It's impossible to make good choices about food all day every day surrounded by tasty junk food. Give yourself a leg up and just swallow some darned capsules.

After two failed eye surgeries with doctors who put their hands up and shrugged, I remembered healing really is an inside job. Whether its weight or diabetes, arthritis or cancer, each of us holds the most power to change our own outcomes. For the past month and a half, I've been feeding myself as carefully as I did with Nicholai and I choke down three handfuls (and I mean full) of supplements per day. I feel great. Better yet, at my last eye appointment the doc didn't see any worrisome areas of scar tissue.

Wow. Maybe this anti-inflammatory stuff really matters. Happy eating!

Health Reform Begins at Home

It's no news flash: changes in diet during the past half century have caused marked increases in the consumption of unhealthy fats and a concurrent decrease in the consumption of healthy fats. As the foods we eat and their sources have moved radically away from nature, the incidence of debilitating diseases has skyrocketed. Obesity is epidemic in the United States, with type II Diabetes sharply increasing. We almost take for granted the looming presence of arthritis, cancer, and Alzheimer's. All of these chronic degenerative diseases can be traced to the move away from a balance between omega-3 fatty acids and omega-6 fatty acids in our diets.

It's crazy really. Back in the 80's we decided to provide generous subsidies to conglomerate farmers for corn and soybeans; subsidies we pay for with our tax dollars. To maximize profits for food corporations, corn and soy (much of the bill for these commodities picked up by you and me) found their way into every cow, chicken, pig, lamb, and even salmon, tilapia, catfish, and trout grown on farms to grace our tables. Nothing is inherently wrong with corn and soy; each has a niche where it is a beautiful and perfect food. But cows and chickens, trout and salmon are meant to eat green things like grass and algae, miraculously metabolizing them into a perfect blend of proteins and balanced fatty acids – perfect for them and perfect for those up the food chain who eat them, and that would be: us.

In addition, corn and soybeans have wormed their way into every processed food and drink likely to cross our lips in a day, thanks again to – oh, that's right, us. Obsessed with price, we check the tag on a bottle of soda, a carton of milk or a plastic-wrapped, Styrofoam-nested chunk of chicken, ignoring, forgetting, or never having known we paid already to fill this food with genetically modified, chemically polluted corn and soy. And we will pay again when our health – and the health of our families, friends, neighbors, and coworkers goes down the tubes. Health care is at a crisis point with politicians and pundits fighting bitterly over how to rein in costs and still provide the world class care we are capable of to every citizen.

For me, I can't wait for politicians to make reasoned choices. I can't wait until we, the people, elect to subsidize apples and flaxseeds and organic chickens with our tax dollars instead of GMO corn. The massive imbalance between omega-6 and omega-3 fatty acids now ubiquitous in our society causes chronic states of inflammation, increasing the risk for every degenerative disease, especially arthritis, Alzheimer's, cancer, and heart disease. Yes, procuring food grown in accordance with nature currently costs a lot more at the market than purchasing processed food replicas that cause deleterious effects on body and brain. But it could – and mostly likely will – save your life. And your little dog too.

We live in world going (some would say gone) toxic. In my opinion, we simply cannot let our food go there too. And in the salvation of our very own food sources we might mend the planet as well.

Next: Biochemistry 101; The Path to and from Inflammation

Aberrant Behavior

Aberrant Behavior

Weather predictions in Portland point to possible severe weather in the upcoming days. I take these predictions with more than a grain of salt because forecasts have developed a hysterical Chicken Little tone in recent years – "The sky is falling, the sky is falling!" I find it tedious to jump with alarm every time temperatures might fall below freezing, or precipitation might be heavy, or – gasp, Oh my! – there might be snow. But today, I have to wonder.

Yesterday afternoon, my partner ran into the house decrying an aggressive squirrel. I glanced up from the computer and raised my eyebrows. "Attacking? Really?" I got up and went to check for this marauding miscreant myself. Indeed, a small gray squirrel sat atop the load of wood she'd been bringing to the front porch in a wheel barrow. When I cracked open the door, it turned its head toward me. Without hesitation, the creature leapt to the steps, darting toward me with the confidence of a household pet. I slammed the door shut and the fuzzy-tailed critter jumped onto the screen where it proceeded to scratch and claw. By now my partner was standing next to me, and Kelley – the dog – stood on hind legs staring over the back of the couch at the squirrel stretched across the screen. Undeterred, it searched for access.

We studied it as it tried to come through the screen – no foam around the mouth, coat and tail looked full, its eyes weren't wild or bloodshot, it appeared healthy."Could it have babies inside the house somewhere?" I mused out loud. Didn't seem likely in the dead of winter and besides, surely it hadn't come in through the front door if it did. I spoke that thought out loud just as the squirrel found an opening in the bottom of the screen and scurried through. In a moment, it was jumping on the doorknob. "Then again, maybe while we're away, it climbs through the screen door, picks the lock, turns the knob, and waltzes in." We laughed uneasily.

Realizing she (we decided it was a she because we couldn't see any evidence to the contrary) couldn't come through the front door; she dashed around the house and made an attempt at the dog door. Kim slid the door closed just in the nick of time. "Whoa! That's crazy! I've never seen a squirrel so determined to come in a house with people and a dog." Still, we both agreed the squirrel's behavior seemed less crazy than resolute. We wondered again about young ones hidden away somewhere in our house. Disappearing into the bushes in the direction of the feeder stuffed with corn and sunflower seeds, we assumed the episode was over.

We were wrong. Our wild rodent visitor snuck into the fully enclosed back porch while we weren't watching and proceeded to munch an apple in the hanging basket there. When surprised by Kim, she soared overhead and dived into a large plastic bag filled with other plastic bags. She could not be dissuaded by noise or prods from the broom, or even sniffing dogs, to vacate the spot and snuggled in, creating her own nest – or drey – among the plastic bags. She spent the night there, she is there still.

They say wild animals can sense weather events: drops in barometric pressure, shifts in the wind, or seismic rumblings all have caused observed changes in animal movements and actions. No squirrels have ever invaded our house, no matter the coming weather so I tend to feel something else must be going on with this one. The dogs demonstrate no concern about an upcoming storm. But then, why should they? The dogs assuredly are not wild – they own jackets and sleep under down comforters. Storm, shmorm – phooey, they don't care.

Probably this little gal is brain deficient. Or got kicked out of an over-crowded nest. Or has some dread disease. But if tonight a great whopping storm hits, I'll consider myself foretold and forewarned.

Needing Nutrients like Nicholai’s

Caring for my dogs never falls through the cracks. I know that's not universally true – dogs languish on chains in backyards alone for twenty-four hours seven days a week, or spend tedious hours in laundry rooms and crates while their people dash from one activity to another. But in my case, and the case of many dog owners I know, dogs receive world class care while owners sometimes settle for second best.

One day at my office, I saw a Wheaten terrier the owner suspected might be suffering pain due to diminished performance on the agility course. I examined the dog and he did indeed have mild issues with spinal integrity. When I looked at the owner to discuss my findings, I saw her hunched over in the chair, her face scrunched in a frown and I had to ask, "Are you alright?" She explained she'd been in a car accident, experiencing pain and headaches for days. She'd made the effort to obtain chiropractic care for her dog but had yet to make any kind of appointment for herself. Another client described feeding her dogs the best organic homemade food while she ate processed packaged food-like products purchased from discount stores. I chuckled internally at these incidents and then provided the people with the coaching they – and I – need. Take care of yourself, or as the airlines put it – fasten your own oxygen mask before assisting others.

Every day I made beautiful organic home-grown and homemade food for Nicholai. He had a diagnosis to stimulate both fear and attention – cancer. The "C" word drove me to harvest kale and collards and carrots from the garden rain or shine; to make sure I had a mix of attractive colored vegetables and fruits including blueberries, purple cabbage, red and yellow peppers, zucchini, yellow squash and sweet potatoes. I shunned processed grains and gathered eggs from our home-raised free-range chickens. Only the best food went down my dog's gullet with his terrible terminal diagnosis, while many a morning I slammed down a latte and a scone. His breakfast was a symphony of vitamins and minerals, antioxidants and enzymes while mine was a garage band of processed grain, sugar, and unhealthy fat. The nutritional richness of his food gave him life far past the best prognosis doctors had made. One morning it hit me. I could – and should – eat the same thing I fed him.

Since that flash of enlightenment over a year ago, my own breakfasts are mostly made of the scrumptious veggie and fruit blend. Though Nicholai passed away, the habit of grabbing a pile of vibrant produce and tossing it in a food processor then serving it up with organic, pro-biotic rich yogurt continues. For the dogs, I add sweet potato or yam and a fresh raw egg – shell and all for protein and minerals. For me, I add a sprinkle of organic granola. Some mornings, like today, everybody's breakfast is a swirl of veggies and yams sautéed in olive oil with a dash of balsamic vinegar and eggs scrambled in. We start the day with a full complement of antioxidant nutrients, healthy fats and protein which sets the tone for the day.

Food sources have become polluted in a hundred ways. Food variety has been shimmied down by a frightening dependence on corn and soy, produced with chemical assistance at every step, and leading to a deleterious lack of essential nutrients.

We can't settle for this, I can't settle for this. I want to live to a ripe and healthy old age. I want to still be kicking butt in the world when I reach seventy and beyond. I'm on a mission: I'm going to put top quality nutrients into this old machine I call my body every day. I feed myself as if – like Nicholai – my life depended on it.

And it does.