I miss the days when bagels were healthy. Ignorance is bliss.
I worked with a nutritionist in the early part of my playing career. I had a meal plan which I was to diligently follow. One of my breakfast options was two bagels with low fat cream cheese, smoked salmon, onions and capers.
At this point, I was 24 years old with a newborn son living in my first property, a kick-ass condo on Dickens St. in Sherman Oaks, CA. In the off season, I’d wake up, throw on sweats and a baseball cap, grab Chase, pop him in the stroller, and the two of us would roll to Noah’s Bagels a few blocks away. The San Fernando Valley was filled with sunshine and crisp in December. I’d grab the darkest, hottest coffee I could, the Los Angeles Times and go to town while my little man slept.
I had nowhere to be, and my cell phone didn’t buzz. I assumed that because this meal was prescribed by an expert, it was healthy. While my bagels weren’t optimal for my body, the peaceful state of mind was unequivocally ideal.
Although we’re constantly striving to be at our peaks nutritionally and from a training perspective, there are other contributing variables to well-being. Health is about feeling good. It’s about pleasure. No rules.