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Trying Bryan Johnson’s Blueprint Protocol for Thirty Days

After reading some longevity books, such as Chip Walter’s Immortality, Inc., and Kris Verburgh’s The Longevity Code, I ran across Bryan Johnson’s YouTube channel and his “Blueprint Protocol” website. And being a person already with OCD tendencies, his complete and spelled-out diet that slowed aging down sounded like the key to all my eating woes. My “woes” being that I never knew what the healthiest lunch to eat was, and I found myself eating too much processed food for dinner.

Breakfasts felt like the only thing I had “figured out” since I had been eating plain Chobani Greek yogurt with fresh blueberries, KIND cinnamon granola, chia seeds, and honey for years during the weekdays, with little desire for change. My weekend breakfasts always consisted of porridge, frozen wild blueberries, and some honey on top. Both meals were accompanied by a cup (or two) of black tea with milk and honey.

For lunch, I had switched over the years from sandwiches to frozen meals to soups to avocado rice cakes to toast. With each iteration, I thought I was making healthier choices, but something always came up: too much sodium, too little nutritional value, too much fat, and on and on.

For dinner, before I remarried, it was pretty clean with the typical meat, carbs, and vegetable sides with a little dessert to finish off the meal. However, once I joined my (new and lovely) Midwestern family who love their carbs and easy-to-prepare, processed meals, I felt my healthier dinners taking more of a back seat. I gained a few pounds, though my tastebuds were quite happy at the time. However, I wanted to make my more balanced dinners take center stage once again with the treats saved for more special occasions.

So, I decided to commit to thirty days strictly following Bryan Johnson’s diet. I will provide the link to his Blueprint Recipe Guide below. Now, I was never planning to take any of his supplements because I was not sure if they were proven to work yet or what effect they would have on me without a doctor supervising. I was also not committed to fasting, though I normally stopped eating around five at night until after the gym the next day, which is a minimal form of fasting already.

The grocery day was intense. My whole cart was full of what my husband called “rabbit food” and the resulting price tag stung a bit too. For a month of groceries just for myself, I ended up spending $343.97 at Hy-Vee and $93.40 at Amazon for the cocoa flavanols, black lentils, Ceylon cinnamon, and nori. So, I spent a total of $437.27 for all the initial ingredients (and those are Midwest prices). That’s like buying a meal for $5 every day for a month, which doesn’t seem so bad, but it is definitely more than I am used to spending on myself a month. I will also say that Hy-Vee is not a health food store, so I could not find things like “Japanese sweet potatoes,” so I just opted for your regular sweet potato for all the meals that called for it. But I really did try to find exactly the same ingredients as were called for in the guide. (And as a bit of an aside for anyone trying to do this protocol too, by the end of the month, I had about half a bottle left of a 1.5-liter bottle of Bertolli extra virgin olive oil. I also had, by the end of the month, about half a bottle left of a 1.4-liter bottle of POM Wonderful pomegranate juice. And what I kept needing to buy more bags of over the month was frozen broccoli and cauliflower, so fair warning about that).

I switched around his breakfast and lunch because I was used to having my sweeter meal of the day first. So, it all began with “Nutty Pudding” at about eight in the morning. I am attaching pictures of all my meals to the video version of this if you would like to see how my creations turned out. I will say that the first week of doing this was overwhelming because there are so many individual ingredients in each meal. But once you memorize the measurements and run to grab all the ingredients from around the kitchen to have next to you, then it doesn’t take that much time. I probably cut my speed in half by the time the month was almost up. But back to breakfast… My concoction looked small, purple, and pitiful in my bowl. However, it was filling, and I was never hungry enough to snack on anything in between breakfast, lunch, or dinner. That was one of the most surprising things is how satiated I felt on this protocol. I will say that as a female, I cut all the ingredients Bryan Johnson had in half, which is why my “Nutty Pudding” probably looked pathetic. So, for example, instead of two tablespoons of chia seeds, I only added one.

As far as the taste is concerned, it was sweet, nutty, but thin when placed in the blender. I soon stopped using the blender and just ate the soupy substance with all the chunky bits intact, so at least I felt like I was eating something for breakfast. It did not taste bad, but I did start to miss my old breakfast pretty early on.

I will say that the worst part of this protocol was having to take the olive oil “shot” apart from my breakfast. I didn’t know what to expect at first, so I just went all in and, boy, was that disgusting and peppery as heck. After that first try, I would hold my nose shut and down it and then quickly take a bite of my “Nutty Pudding,” swallow, and only then release my nose. I did that for thirty days…thirty days…yes.

Next, I had my lunch at around noon. It was the “Super Veggie,” which consists of mostly cauliflower, broccoli, and lentils with a few mushrooms and lots of spices. To avoid the same slop for breakfast, I skipped the blender with this meal. This was the next step up for my lunches health wise, and I didn’t mind eating it every day. It was tasty and filling, but I am glad I split this meal in half because any more and I wouldn’t be able to finish it. And, thankfully, the olive oil was nicely hidden among the veggies, so that I didn’t have to gag on it by itself.

Finally, the recipe guide has a list of ten other meal options to rotate through. So, to fill up the month with each, I spent three days on the same meal. I will say that I didn’t succeed in making the meals look like the pictures in the guide at all. Most of them became something like veggie bowls with everything mixed together anyway, and I enjoyed eating them that way. I ate each meal usually by five each night because I was always hungry again by then.

For simplicity, I went in order of what the guide had, and I did also add half a chicken breast (or sometimes other meat we had, like pork or steak) to each meal. I am not a vegetarian and even Bryan Johnson says, “My diet is vegan, by choice, not by necessity, feel free to add meat to any dish.” So, I did.

The first three nights were the “Buddha Bowl,” which tasted good and had a surprising tanginess to it. Thankfully, the olive oil was tucked away in each of these meals too. The next nights were the “Roasted Veggie Lettuce Wraps,” which I could not manage to wrap successfully, but it tasted fairly good as well. I was a bit worried about those jalapenos, but if you cut out the seeds and pith, then they are not too spicy. Next was the “Blood Orange + Fennel Salad,” which, let me tell you, was the second most disgusting thing I swallowed while on this protocol. However, the second night instead of eating it all raw, I roasted it in the oven and ate the pomegranate and orange pieces separately as a dessert after dinner, which made the whole meal a lot better, in my opinion. That’s another thing I should touch on. I usually don’t like salads, so I often will steam, sauté, or roast my vegetables to make them more palatable. Next, there was the “Roasted Beets + Green Lentils + Wilted Chard” meal, which tasted good, though it looked like I had committed some heinous crime for the next several days. Thanks, beets… Moving on to what was probably my favorite was the “Roasted Cabbage Steaks + Sweet Potato Mash.” I could not believe how tasty that cabbage was, but it must have been the combination of roasting and spices (like the chipotle, paprika, and onion powder). The potatoes, on the other hand, seemed to be lacking the depth they needed, like real butter and milk. And then I had the “Sweet Potato + Mushroom Toast,” which, surprisingly, I was not getting tired of sweet potatoes by this point (perhaps because that was one of the few carb items I could eat). That tasted all right, though the mushrooms and nori really made it taste like salty fish, which I am not a huge fan of. Then, there was the “Chickpea Curry Over Greens,” which just became a cooked veggie bowl for me, but you can’t go wrong with curry or chickpeas. There was the “Beet Poke,” which I again cooked down to be less like rabbit food and it tasted pretty good, even though I’m not a huge beet fan. Then, I had the “Collard Green Wraps + Red Pepper Dip,” which I knew by this time that my wrapping skills were nonexistent, and I refused to eat anymore raw veggies, so that turned into another veggie bowl, which was, again, fine. Finally, I ended the experiment with the “Roasted Bok Choy + Japanese Sweet Potato” meal, which was probably my second favorite meal. It was very savory and flavorful.

Phew! So those were all the meals I tried for a month. I even bought groceries to try for a second month; however, by that second week, I started feeling the horrible nausea of…morning sickness. Yup, I found out at six weeks that I was pregnant. I’d like to think that this protocol made the baby stick around this time, but I did conceive just before starting this challenge, so my husband scoffs at the idea and would like to start eating with me again.

Thankfully, I just started my second trimester, and all is going well, but I could not make this video until now because everything I had just eaten made me want to throw up at just the thought of it. Saying “olive oil” still makes my skin crawl. And this is where I must say something about Bryan Johnson and to my audience.

Bryan Johnson is at a point of his life where I would say he is settled enough to focus on his health…and he is also not a woman. Yes, he has a video where he has a woman try his diet, but she is already young, fit, healthy, and not pregnant. She also said that she would not continue the diet as strictly in her life after the experiment was over. I must say that there are times in life, namely early on, where school, growing your career and your family will put you in survival mode. There will be sleepless nights; there will be stress; there will be times when your own body is seemingly possessed by a demon (aka your baby), and you will throw up and turn your nose up at the very things that are good for you. I have now been intuitively eating, just listening to my own body and what it wants. Have I been craving Annie’s Shells and White Cheddar mac and cheese and sweet, cold, juicy watermelon for the past few weeks? Heck, yes. Am I avoiding those needs? No. Now, I will say that if I was craving ice cream, then I would try to substitute mashed frozen bananas or frozen grapes or other cold fruits instead. Or, if I’m craving chocolate, then I’ll go for the 70 percent dark chocolate and not milk chocolate bars. If you can swap for healthier things, then you are doing enough. I think, especially for women, our hormones dictate much of when, where, and how we want to eat. Maybe when my life slows or settles down enough, say fifty or after menopause, then maybe I can get back to that longevity-driven diet, but, for now, I have to give myself the grace to just get by while I am growing this new life inside of me.

Please don’t think that this is the one and only diet out there to live longer. I have some great cookbooks that use similar ingredients but have more options in case kale or sweet potatoes are wearing you out, like Rebecca Katz and Mat Edelson’s The Healthy Mind Cookbook.

Overall, this was a doable protocol for thirty days, and even though I love order and making my food prep mindlessly, I can’t envision myself now pregnant and then with a child eating this way. I need to feed my family and sometimes survival mode will happen, and I think we all should be okay with that. Besides, doctors are working on longevity solutions that don’t solely depend on our diets, like anti-aging pills. Just do the best you can where you are in life right now, and, hopefully, you’ll reach the “longevity escape velocity” happy, healthy, and still sane.

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Links: https://medium.com/future-literacy/one-meal-23-hr-fast-100-nutrition-18187a2f5b; https://www.amazon.com/Immortality-Inc-Renegade-Scientists-Cheating/dp/1426219806; https://www.amazon.com/Longevity-Code-Secrets-Living-Science/dp/1615194975/ref=monarch_sidesheet; https://www.youtube.com/@BryanJohnson; https://protocol.bryanjohnson.com/; https://protocol.bryanjohnson.com/Recipe-Guide-by-Zero; https://www.amazon.com/Healthy-Mind-Cookbook-Big-Flavor-Function/dp/1607742977

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Views Expressed Disclaimer: The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent the postings, strategies, or opinions of American Wordsmith, LLC. Please also know that while I consider myself an Objectivist and my work is inspired by Objectivism, it is not nor should it be considered Objectivist since I am not the creator of the philosophy. For more information about Ayn Rand’s philosophy visit: aynrand.org.

Race and Gender Do Not Matter

I would like to open this piece with two different excerpts:

Here is the first one:

The bond between husband and wife is a strong one. Suppose the man had hunted her out and brought her back. The memory of her acts would still be there, and inevitably, sooner or later, it would be cause for rancor. When there are crises, incidents, a woman should try to overlook them, for better or for worse, and make the bond into something durable. The wounds will remain, with the woman and with the man, when there are crises such as I have described. It is very foolish for a woman to let a little dalliance upset her so much that she shows her resentment openly. He has his adventures–but if he has fond memories of their early days together, his and hers, she may be sure that she matters.

And here is the second one:

You are part of my existence, part of myself. You have been in every line I have ever read, since I first came here, the rough common boy whose poor heart you wounded even then. You have been in every prospect I have ever seen since – on the river, on the sails of the ships, on the marshes, in the clouds, in the light, in the darkness, in the wind, in the woods, in the sea, in the streets. You have been the embodiment of every graceful fancy that my mind has ever become acquainted with. The stones of which the strongest London buildings are made, are not more real, or more impossible to displace with your hands, than your presence and influence have been to me, there and everywhere, and will be.

The first excerpt is from The Tale of Genji by Murasaki Shikibu, which is widely considered to be the first novel in the world. The author lived from around 973 to 1014 or 1025 CE, and the book was written between 1000 and 1012 CE.

Now, the second excerpt is from Great Expectations by Charles Dickens, who is a more modern author of novels. The author lived from 1813 to 1870 CE, and the book was written in 1861 CE.

One was written by a Japanese woman living in the Heian period (or the High Middle Ages in European history).

The other was written by an English man living in the Victorian era.

Besides languages changing and translations done, are either of these texts unintelligible? Is there any sense of loss in meaning or emotion across time? Does understanding cease with one being from another race or gender than our own? No, no, and no again.

People today are falling into the tribalist trap. Just because you are, let’s say, a young Hispanic woman who has not seen a flash drive or a cassette tape outside of museums, does not mean that you cannot read a book from any time period and empathize with that writer. That is truly the magic of literature. Modern people can still have a dialogue of sorts with other people who have long since gone back into the earth, regardless of skin color or gender. It doesn’t matter! What literature does is bring honest thoughts to the fore.

Still unconvinced? Let’s take another example. But, first, let me warn you that these images may be a bit too graphic for some viewers as they are of real human cadaver arms. I recently came across the Institute of Human Anatomy’s YouTube channel, and in a couple of their videos, they go into the complex anatomy of the human hand.

Can you tell what race either arm is? Neither could I. The screenshot on the left is of a black man and the one on the right is of a white woman. Race is not a scientific concept but simply a social one. Even Shakespeare points this out in The Merchant of Venice when Shylock says, “If you prick us, do we not bleed?” We all migrated out of Africa and have not had that much time to evolve, so there is only a superficial difference between us based on environmental factors (that is only 0.1% of our DNA). Underneath our skin, we look the same. An apt Ayn Rand quote from The Virtue of Selfishness deserves its place here: “Racism is the lowest, most crudely primitive form of collectivism. It is the notion of ascribing moral, social or political significance to a man’s genetic lineage—the notion that a man’s intellectual and characterological traits are produced and transmitted by his internal body chemistry. Which means, in practice, that a man is to be judged, not by his own character and actions, but by the characters and actions of a collective of ancestors.” She also famously says in her book, Capitalism: The Unknown Ideal, that “[t]he smallest minority on earth is the individual.”

The same thinking goes for sexism. Like many other people I’ve heard speak on this subject, I was one of those tomboy girls. I wore jeans and a T-shirt for my entire academic career. I found that these clothes were the most comfortable to live in because that way my outfits didn’t distract away from my studies. Did I think I was attracted to girls because of the way I dressed? No. Did I feel like I was in the wrong body because of it? No. I really did not feel “feminine” until I started having sex. Being with the opposite sex made me feel more submissive and I fit into the other half of the puzzle piece well. The bond between a man and a woman does feel very natural. However, all that time beforehand was purely a time for the mind to grow without restraint. In today’s day and age, my education was not withheld or manipulated to be on a different level or about different subjects from the boys. I learned about anything and everything I could (and I still am today). All of that to say, sex does not, nor should it, play a role in the education of a child.

The human mind is our tool of survival, and there is no race or gender divide that can stop us from using it and communicating our thoughts clearly with one another. There is no “separate reality” or “my truth.” There is no “black perspective” or “white perspective.” There is no age too old or young to understand one another once language is attained and maintained. There is no beauty standard that makes us unable to speak to each other. There is no reason a man cannot explain something to a woman and vice versa.

The only difference to be found concerns varying cultures. While Ayn Rand talks about culture as “not the anonymous product of undifferentiated masses, but the sum of the intellectual achievements of individual men (The Virtue of Selfishness),” I do think that there can be bad cultures that uphold negative things as values.

The battles of ideas and values play out in various cultures, but most of them sink and only a few of them swim over the long term. For example, history proves to us that killing off a group based on superficial reasons causes war and loss and suffering. The culture quickly forgoes that as a value once they lose the war. A culture centered around gang violence and stealing from stores only tears down its followers and destroys itself from the inside out. But a culture where individual happiness is the focus provides people with diets and exercise plans and enlightenment ideas. There are numerous examples I could run through concerning what makes up a good culture versus a bad one, but I do not have time for that here. Come up with your own. What divides us, at least in first-world countries today, is not race or gender but a culture war where tribalism is rearing its ugly head.

I am here to remind you that race and gender do not matter. Period. Stop listening to the news that is telling you otherwise. Stop teaching students that there is a veil between us that separates our “realities” and our “truths” from being acknowledged by “the other.” Stop saying that this group can’t be held accountable because of the color of their skin. Stop whispering the things that should be said aloud. Stop playing the victim and remember that there is only one race: the human race.

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Links: https://www.amazon.com/Tale-Genji-Penguin-Classics-Deluxe/dp/014243714X/ref=asc_df_014243714X/?tag=hyprod-20&linkCode=df0&hvadid=353567357648&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=261658845120380685&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9018402&hvtargid=pla-433833151184&psc=1&mcid=adaf1d9913d1301d99b5adca204c77c3&tag=&ref=&adgrpid=79744846988&hvpone=&hvptwo=&hvadid=353567357648&hvpos=&hvnetw=g&hvrand=261658845120380685&hvqmt=&hvdev=c&hvdvcmdl=&hvlocint=&hvlocphy=9018402&hvtargid=pla-433833151184&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIzt_m_vH2gwMVySitBh3w8gDmEAQYASABEgJdE_D_BwE; https://www.amazon.com/Great-Expectations-Barnes-Noble-Classics/dp/1593080069; https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-y69D76RdMs&ab_channel=InstituteofHumanAnatomy; https://www.amazon.com/Merchant-Venice-Folger-Shakespeare-Library/dp/0743477561/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2IMMOBYCCR9BS&keywords=the+merchant+of+venice&qid=1706129264&s=books&sprefix=the+merchant+of+venice%2Cstripbooks%2C122&sr=1-1; https://www.amazon.com/Virtue-Selfishness-Fiftieth-Anniversary/dp/0451163931/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2R0VQVTO930S9&keywords=the+virtue+of+selfishness+by+ayn+rand&qid=1706129274&s=books&sprefix=the+virtue+of+%2Cstripbooks%2C108&sr=1-1; https://www.amazon.com/Capitalism-Ideal-Ayn-Rand/dp/0451147952

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Why Did I Write A Man of Action?

***WARNING: SPOILERS***

I essentially wrote A Man of Action as a means of updating my “fictionalized scrapbook” and expressing my frustration with the law. My concerns had to do with whether a life sentence without the possibility of parole was really a punishment equivalent to the crime committed. I have always believed that prison is meant as punishment, not necessarily for rehabilitation.

I see a deadly crime as one that only comes after many transgressions have occurred before the worst one. It is a downhill trajectory. I was inspired by the Barbie and Ken Killers’ case this time. What if they lived in my husband’s beautiful Queen-Anne-styled house? What kind of psychological hold did Paul Bernardo have over Karla Homolka, or was she just as guilty for the crimes they committed? Could a man like him truly love a woman who is “of the flesh” after killing another human being? A woman’s defining trait, after all, is her ability to create life.

Conrad has these constant thoughts of killing people, and he believes that he is fighting “for the good” by only hurting other criminals. But what is he losing by committing each offense against another individual, and what about Elizabeth?

One other aspect that frightened me about this idea is how quickly the human body can be harmed as opposed to how slowly it takes to create and heal—a single bruise can take two weeks to heal, a deeper wound can take half a year! All the little bits that make up you took nine months in your mother’s womb, only to have some other beast come to destroy it all in seconds. Creating is so hard, in any form, that it is almost unbearable to me to see it annihilated so easily.

Both Conrad and Elizabeth end up dead in this tragedy because I could see no other way out for their deeds. In my mind, a woman would be destroyed just from carrying the burden of death and being separated from her lover, while a man would be ruined without a purpose by being holed up in prison for life. Death only seems to beget more death. So, I say, let the legal system do its work and hope that justice is served, only don’t sacrifice yourself to it.

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On the Current Cultural Decay

Today’s cultural climate is full of desensitized and inefficacious people who assume that things just “happen” to them. People who are inefficacious disgust me. I have always sympathized with the truly great Men who take action. I love Men who fight against those who try to stop their innovation. They have efficacy and, therefore, my undying respect.

I can still remember, having been raised Protestant, seeing men, specifically, in church kneeling and I cringed, even as a child. I thought, “How lowly and weak they look!” Fast-forward to college and another late night reading session for tomorrow’s class where I have the works of Milton’s Paradise Lost and Marlowe’s version of Faust in my hands, further empathizing with the devil and the snake and Man who desires knowledge.

My sense of life became clearer to me when I felt this ferocity rise within at Man who is refused the ability to know and refused to feel proud of knowing. After all, our tool of survival is our mind, our reason! Why must Christianity squash the very thing that makes us capable of living? I find it pure evil.

Perhaps this moment of fierce rebellion in my soul, sitting in my college’s library, is why I always seem to come back to motifs of snakes and birds, heaven and hell, God and Satan, and Adam and Eve in my work. I cannot help but rage against those who tell me not to know when I have spent all my life trying to know everything! I’ve always said that if I could have a chip inserted into my brain with all human knowledge known today, then I would.

My fear is that we can go backwards as a society. Literary fiction and other art dies in a bad or sick culture. Today, all literary fiction is tribalistic and not about morality at all. The Left has thrown morality away since they believe it is incurably tied to religion, while the Right has kept to their small Christian publishing presses to put out more of the same religious morality texts. But where, oh where!, are the secular moralists who are capable of shining through the rubbish? Where are the writers and readers who want to learn how to be better and happier living their ever-longer lives on earth?!

Why are publishers saying no to any books that are not liberal or tribalistic in nature? Why is there outrage over “literary fiction” books even existing anymore? Because our culture is dying.

I can blame liberal ideology and religious ideology to a certain extent, but beyond that I am unsure. All I know is that the worst thing an individual can do is desensitize themselves to life. And, yet, drugs, drinking, hedonism in general, even rushing from one loud event to the next or traveling all over the world without one moment to rest are causing a group of desensitized people to roam around the earth and teach their children the same. When the music dies down and the party leaves, people can no longer stand being with their own thoughts and so they repeat the numbing process over and over again in one endless cycle.

I remember when I was presenting my literary thesis to my professors in undergrad. When I finished, one commented about how they thought it was a theatrical performance because of the way I read it and openly mocked me when I said that the meaning of life was about happiness. My professors were a product, in the most extreme way, of a culture that is dying, if not already dead. They were cynical, could not take their own subject seriously, and believe that “Truth” is outside of reality. My rebellious heart raged that day, and I will never forget it. Yet, again, here is the Left telling me that I cannot know anything, just as much as the religious Right does.

Well, I refuse to believe that I cannot know how to be happy or that it is not a worthy goal. And I would rather feel too much anxiety about every little thing in my life than nothing at all. I would rather feel deep gratitude for what appear to most as “boring” or “inane” things; I would rather feel endless sorrow for a loss in my life than to drown them in drink; I would rather behave as innocently as a child, than as cynically as a manic-depressive professor. Life becomes more bearable when you know madness does not arise “out of the blue” but is built up by hundreds of little acts of transgression over time that you and the others around you never cared to notice. Being in a desensitized state is a killer to human beings; don’t let it get you next.

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