It's over! Going veg was both easier and harder than I thought

We were northbound, heading to Fergus Falls, but still a few hours away, and the younglings in the back were clamoring for food.

I was hungry, too. So as we pulled into Hutchinson, we decided to grab a quick bite. Subway won the battle of what turned out to be not that many options, so in we went. And then, as it has hit me at many a meal this week, it hit me that I'd need to figure out how to handle this meal sans meat. This is the point when something that summed up my week happened: I headed in the door resigned to having to figure out a way to eat. Not figure out how to get a tasty meal. Figure out how to get something, anything, that I can eat. Not a huge deal. But ...

In case you haven't been following along, I decided to become a vegetarian this week. Why? Mostly to get a feel for what my daughter goes through. Emma, a 14-year-old freshman at West,  has been a vegetarian since February. She's doing fine. Hasn't complained at all, really. But I thought I'd give this thing a try. And now that I'm done, I have to say: the week wasn't characterized by crushing cravings for animal flesh, but it wasn't exactly free of inconvenience, either.

My trip to Subway Friday started on a glum note, with my anticipation of a six-inch sub stuffed with veggies and a little cheese. NOT MY THING. LIKE, AT ALL. I'm just not a veggie guy. I'll never be happy with a meal that consists of nothing but cut up vegetables. Who can do that?

Luckily, however, I had my old pal the incredible, edible egg to bail me out. Turns out at this particular Subway, the sub of the month was a breakfast sub. So instead of putting away the eggs at 11 a.m., they were out there, available, just waiting for me. I love eggs. When I was a kid, I'd eat five or six at a sitting. My dad would fry me up five eggs over easy on a Sunday morning. Throw in a little bacon, Sunday paper, and it's no wonder I'm the kind of guy who loves a lazy Sunday. And eggs are the foundation of that. But I digress.

My trip to Subway was just a minor speed bump. Most of my week was uneventful, actually. I went to Noodles & Company and got what I always get: Pesto Cavatappi, only I didn't get it with chicken like I usually do. That was fine. I barely missed the meat.

Emma and I had done some perusing of vegetarian recipes. Both the ones we've had so far -- chipotle macaroni and cheese and black bean tacos with zucchini and feta cheese -- were fantastic. As was the vegetarian lasagna my wife made, and the Morningstar "burgers" we'd had.

But I gotta tell ya: By Sunday night, I was ready to be done. So on the drive home from Fergus Falls (where Emma played in the state Minnesota Band Directors Associated Honor Band for 9th and 10th graders) we stopped at Applebee's ... and I ended my fasting from meat.

Bacon cheeseburger.

It was good.

Real good.

All throughout this week, though, I've always known it was just that: a week. If I got irritated by the fact that I wasn't eating meat, I could tell myself that it's just for a few days, and that it'll all be over soon. If this kind of diet is a going to be a viable option for you, I'm guessing those kinds of thoughts can't be part of the equation. So, I can honestly say, at this point in my life, I have no plans on switching to being a vegetarian.

But I do have plans to be more open about diversity in the way I eat.

I asked Emma whether it's been hard for her to be a vegetarian. She said no, except when we go out to eat. Like the trip to Applebee's. It took her a while to find stuff she could eat. But the waiter was friendly, and was very willing to help her find something, even if it meant coming up with something that wasn't on the menu. She went with pasta, a solid choice, and one I'm guessing a lot of vegetarians resort to.

One other thing I found myself thinking about: the source of the meat I consume. It might sound a little cliche,  but I'm considering being a lot more picky about where my meat comes from.

I happen to believe humans are meat eaters. But I also would like to think we're a little better than the current state of meat processing plants. I'll get crap from people for that, of course. Even people in my own newsroom, who have probably laughed at my spending a week not eating meat. But I don't really give a damn. This was about my daughter. And at the end of an interesting week -- one that included a handful of emails from well-wishing vegetarian readers -- I'm happy I took the opportunity to understand her choice a little.

Now, bring on the ribs.