“FATTY meat and water. Fatty meat and water. Fatty meat and water.”
This was the mantra I muttered on repeat as I pushed my grocery cart down S&R’s processed-food aisles.
While scanning each chocolate brand: “Fatty meat and water.”
There was sugar-free Hershey’s. But that’s not fatty meat and water.
While eyeing the cookies and biscuits: “Fatty meat and water.”
At the aisles of fruit juices, tomato juices, aloe juices, milk drinks, soy milk drinks, chocolate drinks, yogurt drinks, lattes, teas, and lemonades: “Fatty meat and water.”
While staring at the wall of regular soda, diet soda, caffeine-free soda, and sugar-free soda: “Fatty meat and water.”
I was looking for the Coca-Cola that comes in a black can and makes three promises: “Zero caffeine. Zero sugar. Zero calories.” I didn’t find one at S&R.
While briefly considering the banana chips—but not the potato chips, nuts, or popcorn: “Fatty meat and water.”
While standing before shelves of pasta, pasta sauces, and tomato paste: “Fatty meat and water.”
At the sections for dried fruits, ice cream, frozen French fries, frozen fruits, vegetables, rice, cake, and muffins: “Fatty meat and water.”
“Fatty meat and water” is Dr. Anthony Chaffee’s prescription for a strict carnivore diet. I was at S&R to buy meat. So why was I turning the trip into a sightseeing tour of the processed-food aisles? I would have been better off wandering the toiletries and laundry sections.
This carnivore journey began in October 2024, when I stuck with it for 21 days. On the 22nd day, I had a strawberry matcha latte and a chocolate caramel cake. Goodbye, carnivore.
In February 2025, I renewed my hope of going carnivore again, but the Big Bite at Centrio Mall in March 2025 banished that hope to Siberia.
I was back to a kind-of carnivore diet from mid-September to mid-November 2025—meaning occasional high-carb intake. From mid-November to the third week of February 2026, the occasional morphed into conditional, depending on my emotional-eating episodes.
February 22, 2026 could have been the best day to restart my carnivore journey, since it was on that same date in 2022 that I began my low-carb diet. Two years later, in 2024, I joined the gym. So apparently, there’s a significant upgrade every two years.
But this year, it wasn’t meant to be. On the 22nd, I had a black pepper beef Asian rice bowl, a pastrami-and-ham croissant pizza, milk-chocolate croissant bites, parmesan honey twists, and achara.
The carnivore reboot finally began on February 25—on the 40th anniversary of People Power. If in 1986 that day was about kicking the Marcoses out of Malacañang and Pinas, my 2026 version was about kicking carbs out to Siberia.
Since then, I have had my lab tests done and consulted my low-carb doctor, Dr. Don Agcopra. Per Doc’s advice, I’m staying away from the gym for now so I can monitor my blood pressure before returning to resistance training and group exercise classes.
I’m reading books while staying home. On Sunday afternoon, I woke up after a siesta and thought it was Monday morning. Early Monday morning, I woke up at 3:22 a.m., and my LSS—last song syndrome—was Taylor Swift’s “The Fate of Ophelia.” Carnivore side effects? Hehe.
And I do go out. It’s only the gym I’m staying away from for now, not the whole outside world.
