Being Kendra_ Cribs, Cocktails, and Getting My Sexy Back - Kendra Wilkinson [42]
I had to break it down for him that he was headed for a physical collapse. Maybe not now, but a decade or two down the road, those hot dogs were going to build up inside him like a wall. So I said, “Look, babe, you’re getting to an age where your metabolism isn’t what it used to be. You used to be able to eat anything you wanted, but maybe you can’t and shouldn’t now.” Of course his typical guy reaction was, “Don’t you tell me what to eat!”
I may sound controlling, but I pick my battles. I’m not going to tell him what to wear, but I’ll be damned if I stand by and let him eat five heart attacks in a bun. So we had a big talk about health and diet and lifestyle. It wasn’t a debate; it was me clueing him in that right is right and wrong is wrong: Broccoli is healthy, chili dogs are not.
I wanted Hank to know the difference between apples and apple pie. I wanted him to have a healthier heart, a better diet, and more knowledge about what he was putting into his body. And it would help his performance on the field too! It was a beautiful thing. We hadn’t known each other that long but for us to both get on the same page about something so important—our health—was a major milestone in our relationship. From that hot dog on we changed our lives for the better and started going to the gym together every day. I said, “I care about you, babe. If we are going to get married, I need you to be around for as long as I’m around. I want you to be able to go on hikes and run around with our baby and I don’t want you having heart problems. You are my partner through life.” We knew then we were a team.
Now Hank and I pay a lot of attention to health news, following stories about disease, nutrition, and exercise. Some people are living so miserably because of food and how they eat. That is surrounding us so much, so we figured we should try to learn from it. I almost think of food as medicine. If I overdose I’m fat. If I don’t get enough I starve to death. My body will tell me what I need and if I have the knowledge, then I know I never really need Twinkies. I know broccoli is good for me because broccoli makes us poop!
Hank’s mom and dad still don’t eat like we do. So when they come to visit Hank wants to get cheese curls, potato chips, and all this junk food. We know we need to put food in the house that they like to eat; it’s the right thing to do. But when they go, that stuff is still in our house—they don’t take it with them—so the second they leave I dump it all out. The saying in our household is “What you don’t see doesn’t exist.” If it’s there we eat it, so we do everything we can not to have junk in our house.
The moment I slapped that hot dog out of his mouth was the moment we had major clarity about our future together. At this point we were in my town house that I lived in right after I moved out of the Playboy Mansion, and Hank had just come out there to live with me. We had been living together for a few months—everything was new to us. But I knew that if I was willing to really care about a man’s eating habits so much, and that man was willing to return the care by actually listening and following through with my suggestions, then we were in it to win it. We were in love and planning our future—a healthy one—together.
We threw away everything bad. We just went through the kitchen cabinets and drawers and the fridge and freezer and started chucking all the junk food—and it was a lot. We cleaned house. It was liberating. And it brought us together. You don’t realize until you start paying attention to all of the crap that you put into your body—chips, processed foods, high-sodium preserved meats, cookies, sodas—that this stuff is slowly killing you. It was the best feeling when my future husband and I went to the grocery store for the first