San Francisco is a city prepared for disaster. The shadow of 1906 looms even on the sunniest of days as everyone waits for the Big One.
It’s fitting, then, that a 36-year-old San Franciscan has applied the same attitude toward his recently started high-fiber diet.
“I was hoping for immediate results, but these things take time,” the man, who chooses to remain anonymous, said. “I guess this is what some people call faith.”
It is not faith, in fact, but science. It’s a ritual of numbers — adding and subtracting daily food and supplement intake, calorie tracking, measuring water. That said, the man does feel as though he’s at church.
“Let’s just say I spend a lot of time sitting very still,” he said. “And waiting for my prayers to be answered.”
When he’s not immobile, the man is haunted by his quest, whether by waking to stabbing guttural pains in the night or, most helpfully, apologizing for audible gurgling sounds from his stomach during work meetings.
“I started a new job and it’s the first time my colleagues, including executives, are meeting me,” he said. “They may as well meet my stomach, too.”
“This must be what they mean when they say bring your whole self to work,” he added.
The anonymous man recognizes the risk of starting any task, whether a chore, email or work meeting. At any moment, the results of his high-fiber diet could strike, leaving even the most mundane of tasks unfini