The Dawn of A New Day, and Some Musings on Cows

Today represents a new beginning for many. While I strained the almond pulp out of my chilled raw almond solution before dawn (which produced a beautifully creamy, frothy milk for my coffee and cereal), the Obamas were arriving at their seventh inaugural ball in Washington. Talk about endurance capacity. Here in my time zone, as soon as the sky turned from black to grey revealing a misty but otherwise dry morning, I decided to have a new beginning of my own by pulling my mountain bike out of the storage locker for the first time in two months.

It was like I hadn't missed a day. My legs had more pep than I could beat out of them, in spite of picking the road that goes straight up and over the hill behind our village. It was beautifully still and silent in the farmlands on the other side, with shifting mists that hung over the fields, changing the landscape moment by moment. I caught glimpses of sunlight hitting Lake Geneva below, and as the mists began to rise as dawn became day, I caught a glimpse of a fresh blanket of snow on the French Alps where they rise straight out of the water on the far side of the lake.

When I ran and rode through these fields last summer, I always had company. These are grazing lands for cows in the warmer months of the year and I don't mind admitting that, over time, I developed a bit of an affinity for the cows. My initial encounters with them were a little hesitant; in spite of knowing that they are docile, I couldn't help feeling some trepidation as I approached one of the fenced fields and pushed through the turnstile for the first time. I was on foot this particular day, and once in the field, I kept my pace at a nonchalant jog, trying to maintain a bright and breezy composure while telling myself that the cows won't bat an eyelid at my presence. They did, in fact, do more than bat an eyelid. The herd not only registered my presence right away by collectively lifting their heads from grazing and staring my way, a moment later they erupted into a chorus of moos and to my horror, began to amble over my way. I froze in an instant, convinced that they were alerting one another to my position in the field and were coordinating an attack. Too far from the turnstile to turn back, I bolted to a patch of lightly forested high ground at the edge of the field, where I got myself on the other side of a tree for protection and readied myself to climb it if necessary.

The cows lost interest in me as quickly as they had taken it, and went back to grazing. I ate a cliff bar while surveying their behaviour from behind the tree, and still not convinced of my safe passage through the field, I retreated back through the turnstile and ran the long way around, turning a 3 hour run into a 3.5 hour run.

Michael later told me what common sense should have: that the Swiss government would not put public footpaths through fields with dangerous animals, and the herd had probably mistaken me for the farmer arriving with feed. After a few successful cow-field passages on subsequent runs, I came to realize that cows, especially young cows, are actually just very curious animals. They would come close enough to survey me, but were easily startled if I was moving with any sort of speed in their vicinity.

There were no cows in the fields today, which was a little disappointing since I was looking forward to feeling a particularly close bond with them now that I don't eat them (hey, when you work from home, sometimes you seek fellowship in ways you never thought you would). I can only assume they have been taken indoors for winter, or have now gone to the great cowshed in the sky. Either way, the fields felt a little lonely without them.

All these ramblings mean that I have not compiled the results of my inquiry into what studies have been done of vegan diets and athletic performance. In preparation for lunch, I have big plans to turn the byproduct of my almond milk, the almond pulp, into a batch of nut burger patties by combining them with flax seeds, olive oil, balsamic vinegar and sea salt, then grilling them lightly on both sides (a recipe that I've modified from my most favourite cookbook, the Thrive Diet).

I will get around to reporting on some serious scientific data before the week is through, so help me God.