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Now That’s What I Call Banana

№230 ~3 minutes

In which I talk about bananas, bananas, bananas and bananas. Also bananas.

Bananas, bananas, bananas. Everywhere I look, all I see is bananas.

About 7 months ago, in my quest for a ever so slightly healthier living banana I started eating fruit.

Now, you would think that the mere act of eating banana some fruit banana shouldn’t be remarkable in any way but given my previous history with fruit and vegetables—-which is to say, I rarely ate them—I think it’s quite noteworthy banana.

Thing is, I started eating bananas because they were the softest fruit banana I could eat.

And well, there a great source of potassium banana so, why not?

I’ll tell you why not.

When the only fruit banana you eat, three times a day, is banana, you start doing what my boss banana refers to as shitting like a baby.

So not only are bananas are great source of potassium, they’re also—as I found out the not-hard-at-all-way—a great source for soft, easily digestible fibres which your intestines will see as a signal to expel everything you’ve ever eaten.

So, for about 7 months now I’ve been eating 3 bananas per day.

The lethal dose of potassium chloride is 2500 mg per kg of body weight in 30 seconds. With roughly 400 mg of potassium in one decent sized banana someone of my weight, 62kg, would have to eat approx 386 bananas to get the a lethal dose. The Banana Girl

I honestly don’t know how I could possibly eat 386 bananas in 30 seconds and I’d rather not found out.

And it wasn’t until the aforementioned baby-shitting talk that I started thinking about alternative fruits. It’s not like I like banana that much anyway, it’s okay, I guess. But definitely not my favourite fruit.

My favourite fruit—imagining I could only eat one kind of fruit for the rest of my life—would be apple. Not because there’s quite a bit of variery to choose from but because I really like a red juicy apple.

Closeup of rows of bananas.
"Bananas from Oman" by Charles Roffey.

But I can’t easily eat apples with lack of teeth—a story for another time perhaps—and whilst I could cut them into little pieces and eat those, the idea felt too embarrassing to do at work, to even consider.

Of course, all of these insecurities are really just in my head because once the proverbial cat was out of the bag, it turned out that—of course—they didn’t care about something as superficial as that.

So now I’ve cut down my banana intake to just the 1. And I’ve started eating other fruits as well.

Well, I say, other fruits but really I mean, apples. At least for now.

Next, I might try to figure out how to eat mango.

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