Tim and I like to work out hard so that our food taste better. All the athletes know that is how it works. When I read about something healthy that is not in the form of a supplement I am game to try.
While waiting for the Borat movie to start a friend of ours expounded on how he loved raw milk. He raved about the benefits. It was touted for not killing the good bacteria how it was safe because the farms were held to such high standards. It's been claimed to be the cause of "mik allergies." The big selling point was that he claimed it decrease his daily flatulence from 4 liters a day to 1.5 liters/day. My husbands response to this statement was "but why would you want to do that, isn't it fun?"
I didn't think much of this except that it made for a good story. We went to Switzerland and the milk there tasted so good. I never really liked milk before so coming from me that says something.
Tim likes milk but often has a crampy stomach and had a "milk allergy" as a child. We don't know if he really had a milk allergy but he had to have orange juice on his cereal until college. I guess college is all about experimenting: sex, drugs, alcohol, and for Tim milk.
This week at Henry's the Raw Milk was on special. I thought maybe it would be better for Tim's stomach. Maybe it would even taste like the milk from Switzerland. Last night, Tim and I were enjoying our cookies with a glass of raw milk. It tasted very good. Tim drank his glass. I had a sip of mine, noting that it was good. I was not the Swiss tasting milk I had hoped for. Given that it was whole milk, I was eating very chocolaty cookies, and I do have clothing NOT made of strecthy spandex, I deemed myself full and gave the rest of my milk to Tim.
All was good. Well all was good for a few hours, until Tim's stomach began to churn and the trips to the bathroom began. While I was sleeping at 2:00 a.m. Tim was researching things like typhoid fever. So much for curing Tim's stomach ailments and running without cramps happily ever after.
At first I apologized for poisoning Tim. However, he certainly did perk up for an afternoon mountain bike ride. Lately when I ask Tim if he wants to go for a run he says things like "Honestly, I'm not that psyched about it". When asked about the Rock N Roll marathon he grimaces and says"Me. No. Marathon. Pain"
Poisoning by the wife or great lengths to avoid a Sunday morning run???