Where's the beef?

Those of you that know me, know that for the last 8 or so years of my life, I've avoided red meat like the plague. Before that, I was a big beef/red meat eater. I never gave much thought to it. Growing up in my house, it wasn't a meal without meat. But in my freshman or sophomore year of college, I started to hear about the negative effects of red meat, saw a few gross pictures of the colon (thanks Mrs. P *wink*) and I decided I was all done with it.

Lately though, I've been rethinking my position. My change of heart began about the time I was being wheeled off for my emergency c-section.
In my effort to remain calm, I began doing what I do best. Talking.

I was chatting it up with my nurse and anesthesiologist, and though I had long ago asked them to stop updating me on my blood pressure readings, I must have inquired about the seriousness of my condition. That's when one of the nurses said something to the affect of, "Honey, we want to keep you from having a stroke."

Uh, excuse me? A stroke? OK, apparently you missed something. I do my best to eat well, I work out fairly regularly, and continued to do so when I found out I was pregnant; I'm not the type of person that needs to be concerned about a stroke.

Or so I thought.

Anyway, I've been thinking about this for a while now, and I think I'm shying away from the total avoidance mentality when it comes to red meat. In a weird way, I was using it as an insurance policy to guarantee a long healthy life, but let's face it. There are no guarantees. I could do all the "right things" as it relates to health, and still be gone tomorrow.

Now I don't plan to gorge myself on hamburgers and steak (truthfully, they still don't appeal to me), and I still intend to take precautions when it comes to my health, but I think the answer, like most things in my life, is that moderation is the key.

Now, where is that pepperoni pizza?