Be a Caveman, Give Blood

I feel as if I'm letting an opportunity pass me by. I could be a caveman. Err, a cavewoman. Let me explain. There are a handful of enterprising young people in New York City who fancy themselves neo-cavemen. For health reasons. Because, you know, a life expectancy of 30 years is pretty good.

The rules: eat lots of meat; don't eat agriculture supported foods (such as bread); fruits and veggies are fine (though there is some debate as to the place of nightshades in the caveman diet). Oh, and fasting is always good. You never know where the next giant ground sloth will come from. The delightful article all this caveman knowledge comes from further explained, "These urban cavemen also choose exercise routines focused on sprinting and jumping, to replicate how a prehistoric person might have fled from a mastodon." Bonus! Exercise would be more fun as well. It could involve "scooting around the underbrush on all fours," rock jumping, and throwing rocks. I'm just going to throw sprinting and clambering up trees in there because that seems like a reasonable thing for cavemen to excel at. One final small detail to include (with the meat, running without shoes, and fasting) is to give blood early and often. Cavemen got hurt. They lost blood. Then they had to go wrastle a giant bear.

This is all to say that I could have been a caveman. If I'd only planned accordingly. I gave blood yesterday. If only I stocked my fridge with all variety of meat. I mean, I don't have woolly mammoths to contend with and it wouldn't be very nice to pick fights with bums in the park, either. And foolishly I went to see a movie rather than scooting around the underbrush. Perhaps next time.