Epic Journeys

I am finally more comfortable washing dishes with rubber gloves on than with bare hands. My cuticles are so happy.

I tried something new with soup. I did not make stock first. I just threw water in with the other ingredients. I figured it has been so long since I've eaten canned soup, it might just fly. So far it is an acceptable alternative. It is a different soup experience. I can taste the non-meat ingredients much more distinctly. The flavors overall are more delicate. I continue to be amazed with what soup can do, the million ways it can be made.

I was excited in October to finally have enough vegetables to put carrots, celery, and onion all on the same day. So far I have not made stock with them, thus the "water" soup. On my week off after Christmas, I will be making veggie stock. I am sad I can still only use it every fourth day. Rotating is restrictive, but it really forces the issue of creativity in the kitchen, and of course, every fourth day is 1,000 times better than never.

Call it Kermit Soup

The concept of the food rotation diet is that food sensitivities are created by eating the same ingredient everyday. This is the reason why people are suing the corn industry. Corn is in everything and now there are people who get sick when they eat corn. Corn used to bother me for this reason. By being obsessive about avoiding corn for 2 years, reading ingredient lists and never eating out, I healed. I can eat corn now and feel just fine, but if I ate it everyday, I'm sure the sensitivity would come back. I eat corn no more than once every 4 days. I read every label and I do not eat out. I treat every single ingredient in my diet this way. Someday I hope to be healed of all or most of my 50+ food sensitivities. In the meantime...

Rotating is hard. The easiest way to ensure the 4 day waiting period happens for each ingredient without fail, you divide your ingredients into 4 lists, one for each day. At the end of the fourth day, start over again on day 1. What this means for cooking is that all of the flavors on day 1 are stuck with each other. I have turkey, carrots, celery and onion on the same day so I can make a nice normal soup. But I can't put all the meat on celery day. So lamb day has no celery or onion or carrots. I look at the ingredients on lamb day and it's a total quandry as to how to make lamb soup, or lamb casserole, or even seasoned lamb, because none of my herbs or spices landed on lamb day. I took a large bunch of mustard greens and boiled them, then pureed them. Then I mixed pre-cooked buckwheat groats into the ground lamb, browned it in chunks in a stock pot, and then poured the pureed mustard greens back in and cooked it for a few more minutes. It was actually pretty decent. The bitter spiciness of the mustard greens succeeds in balancing itself with the strong flavor of the lamb. It's still pretty tough though putting the little tupperware full of frozen... green in my workbag in the morning before I'm fully awake. It's pretty un-appetizing sounding. It really needs a noodle as a sidedish, but I don't have a noodle on that day. So you can see where this goes. This has been my life for the last 2 years.

Amazing Attainable Abdomen

Abs. I think a person could get a complex reading about ab exercises on-line. There used to be articles about how to get a flat tummy. Now you can only find articles about getting a six pack. Yes, these articles are directed at women. It's a splendid gender equality scenario to acknowledge that women can get six packs and there are certainly women out there with the discipline to make it happen. This girl here is going to pass. I have no problem with having a layer of fat over my abs. I want strong abs and strong good-posture muscles. If my ab muscles can hold the fat in a relatively vertical position, I will be so thrilled. I am proud for womankind that there are women proving six packs for women are attainable, but for me and my inner teenager, I am choosing to love that fat. It means I have enough to eat, it's means I'm not dying of any flesh eating diseases, and most importantly, it means I'm not anorexic.

The Truth of It

For two years I've been on the Food Family Rotation Diet. It is strict, complicated, and designed to cure and prevent food sensitivities. Along with some blood tests through my nutritionist, it has completely changed my physical existence from one of discomfort and fatigue, to one of energy and happiness.

With it's ability to cure, I may not have to be on it forever. My sensitivities have improved a lot. I was hoping I was done. But I got the blood work done again, and they told me I actually have a long way to go. Many symptoms came back in small ways that I had not noticed. So I have had to recharge my motivation to stay on this diet. I have had to wrap my head around the possibility of staying on it for a very, very long time.

The Breakfast of Bad-asses

I have given up eating starch with breakfast. I am completely sick of the way it tastes, and once I start eating it, I just want to keep eating it, so I've started putting it off until lunch. This morning I was craving carbs though, but instead of eating quinoa or buckwheat or rice cakes like I had been doing, I ate a tablespoon of flax meal. I thought to myself, I really have become quite the bad-ass because this doesn't seem weird at all.

When I say I'm sick of the way it tastes, I'm not talking about wheat bread, risen with yeast, full of doughy yummy goodness. Or any other kind of un-risen, gluten containing food, or even any non-gluten foods risen with yeast. I've been yeast-free for two years. My nutritionist suggested it, and I thought she was nuts but I've had dramatic results so I stuck with it. But now some new tests I've taken are indicating I really need to try going gluten free too. So basically me and bread are not on speaking terms. I've got some great recipes using quinoa, teff, and buckwheat that are gluten and yeast free (Sondra Lewis rocks!) but eating them before noon kind of reminds me of eating pickled herring in the car when you're motion sick.

So what the hell am I eating for breakfast? This morning I had Chilean sea bass, strawberries, protein drink, and... a tablespoon of flax meal.

The sea bass was actually the first bad-ass moment of the day. When I stuck a bite in my mouth and tried to eat it like I'd eat a bite of frozen waffle (bite, chew, swallow) I almost gagged. I look at it and thought to myself that it tasted good and it certainly cost enough, so I must be doing something wrong. On my second bite I ate it like I eat sushi. Pause right before it hits my tongue, with anticipation. Let it sit there for a second and then carefully press it between my tongue and the roof of my mouth, tasting it. Then slowly and delicately chew, pausing occasionally to taste it some more. Shi-zam, that's some good food.

And suddenly it really sunk in to the deepest part of me that simple food really does taste better. It tastes better because you can taste it. I've sort of timidly asserted this fact as an opinion, which I only ever brought up as a defense when people would ask me, with incredulity, how I can eat such boring food all the time. "Well I kind of have to if I want to feel good even a little bit, and besides it's kind of cool that you can actually taste what you're eating instead of just all the seasoning."

Public versus Private

I am still having a hard time deciding what to write about. I read some blogs that are so intimate in theme. It's a ludicrous concern given that this blog is totally anonymous. I've shown it to only two people. I just think of things I'd like to write about, but then I'm not sure I want it "out there" even if nobody of consequence to me knows it's me. It's still ME, you know?

In the realm of health and fitness, which are my favorite things to read about on-line, talking about my experiences with exercise is easy. I love exercise and I'm not embarrassed about it. But the freaky allergen reducing diet I've been on for two years? I already wrote about the day I had nuts in the microwave. My blog has already pretty clearly indicated I'm up to no good in the kitchen. It's like I expect somebody to e-mail me and ask me why the hell I had nuts in the microwave to begin with.

Obviously, I could just write whatever random shit is in my brain. But I don't enjoy reading this kind of thing, so why would I create it? I already create that in my journal anyways. I have hardwood floors under my carpet and I didn't find out about it until this weekend. If I am writing stories about my home improvement projects, and include a picture of the carpet pulled up to show the wood, that's interesting, but not just tossed out there without context. There is a line that needs to be drawn somewhere.

I'm actually working on this in real life, too. Fine tuning what I will and will not share, where and with whom. I've been an open book about the food allergies (and the exercise), but the cost of this is beginning to aggravate me. It isn't any of anyone's business. I have grown to not care about their almost exclusively uninformed opinions, so it's just one more small step to just not offer information in the first place. But I do NEED to talk about it. And on this blog, any potential/imaginary readers can choose to read or not read at their discretion. And I in no way feel obligated to respond to people who doubt my ability to make heath care decisions. But by putting it "out there," even without any readers, I would probably still feel... heard.

Hmmm....

The Anti-Ice Cream

It's one of those mornings where everything tingles a little. The coffee at work is so bad it hurts but it's funny instead of annoying. I finally have a place to put paper clips on my desk. The trees are freaky red and yellow and the grass is so green and the sky is so blue. Neither of my cuff buttons were buttoned and it was a naughty naked feeling. And my cube was moved at work to be near where all of the cute guys sit. I pulled out a new box of hot cocoa, because that is what they all drink. A day can be judged entirely on whether it's like high school in a good way, or a bad way. The sad truth is every day is like high school. Except now the teacher's pets spend their days exerting an enormous influence on workplace culture rather than being stuffed in lockers. And I do what I've always done. I eye the cute guys and get A minuses and go along half-heartedly with all the school spirit events so the teacher's pets don't stuff me in a locker.

I had a dream once that I had a blog and I only wrote in it once a week, but on that day I'd write 5-6 entries. I can see that happening with this blog. I will have a bunch of ideas all at once. I am perfecting the idea that if it really doesn't matter how I do it, I do it any way I want. It is a skill to feel my will and act upon it. I'm not talking about eating a half gallon of ice cream. I'm talking about having a blog and doing it however I want to do it. I was once a person who didn't know what she wanted or how she felt. I was entirely caught up in what other people wanted me to do, to the point where I couldn't tell if it was my will or theirs. It has been a joy to learn to know what my will is, and use it to bring myself happiness rather than daily trips to the ice cream aisle.

More Chin-Up Bar

I can now hold up all my own weight for 5-6 seconds. On Thursday I really impressed myself, while hanging I pulled my knees up to just above my pelvis three times. My tummy was pretty pissed off that I didn't stop after two. But it's been 72 hours and my tummy is perfectly happy.

My rule of thumb is if it feels mostly normal 3 day later, I didn't work out too hard. This isn't scientific or anything. It's my own personal threshold where the discomfort overshadows the fun, and my motivation collapses.

On November 17 my mom and I are taking a one hour introduction to kettlebell training. The joke around my house is, "I've got a fever, and the only prescription is more kettlebell." Google "SNL cowbell" if you haven't seen this skit.

For an article about kettlebell training, see http://stumptuous.com/cms/displayarticle.php?aid=49. But do not blame me if you become obsessed with doing squats with perfect form, merely from a single exposure to the best strength training website ever.

No Longer as Annoying as Knitting

E-mail has now become what I always wanted snail mail to be. A way to keep in touch. When I first started e-mailing friends, because of the speed of delivery I thought it was supposed to be like a conversation. We could "talk" everyday without waiting by the phone. I am better at being concise when writing then talking, so I can effectively tell them more, but bore them less. The conversation image did not work, because there really isn't that much to say, and I'm not in the sixth grade anymore. I've actually (almost) grown out of my desire to discuss in detail how cute boy #1 looked at me at lunch today, or how bad boy #2 rolled up his pant legs. The conversation model also did not work because you come off as really needy and annoying if you actually write somebody more than once or twice a week.

The traditional snail mail model on the other hand has been part of our culture for thousands of years. The heroine runs to the mailbox, reads the whole letter without breathing if it's from a lover off to war, slowly word by word savoring every syllable if it's from a sister. With e-mail I have come to treasure e-mails from friends I no longer see. But what really makes it replace snail mail is the boundary I've placed around it wherein I can reply at my leisure, just like I did in my limited letter writing days. Now it is relaxed like letter writing was. No need to rush something that would take anywhere from 2 to 20 days just to be delivered. But it takes less of my own time when I actually sit down to write. And it still has a real time feel, to know my friend will be able to read it five minutes after I send it.

The Cute Sleep Doctor said...

I am sleepy all the time despite eating healthfully, sleeping well for 7-8 hours a night, rarely drinking caffeine, and exercising. So I went to a sleep lab and they hooked a million wires up to me and stuck a couple of little tubes up my nose (only about 1/4 inch) and told me to go to sleep. The results of the study are that I am a good sleeper. I'm almost as proud of myself as when I was 3 and my mom said I was a good eater. Or when I was 13 months and my dad said I was a good pooper. Who knew? I slept 92% of the time I was in the bed, my oxygen was good, "virtually no apneas", no leg movements at all, totally average amount of REM sleep, and a greater than average amount of stage 4 sleep, whatever that is.

So now I'm in the process of being diagnosed with excessive sleepiness. Yes, it's a disorder. It sounds like the usual treatment is to drink more coffee. Yes, I'll have a prescription to drink coffee. I'll be at risk of hurting people, literally, if I skip coffee. I wonder what disease I have to get to be prescribed cigarettes?

At first I told the doctor I wasn't getting tubes up my nose again just to be told to drink more coffee. But then I figured it would be really nice to know for sure why I'm sleepy. As it's worsened, I've worried that it's depression or boredom that I'm just not aware of, or that I'm just so immature that I'm bored (and put to sleep) by everything. It will be nice to know for sure and finally stop wondering.

Over the Blog Hump

I wrote a few blog entries, and because of the time I spent writing them, I read less, and then had less to say. My mind is like a big compost heap. Random things happen to me that I want to write about, but if I'm not also reading, the random events just don't turn into stories. I need a mix of things to go in, so interesting things can come out.

So the real flaw in my plan was taking time to make the entries really nice. That is why I had to cut back on reading that week. So from now on it's off the cuff. Single sentence entries are okay. So is doing multiple entries in one day.

Chin-up bar

I was shocked when I was 25 and I found myself on monkey bars and I couldn't even pretend to hold up my own weight. This weekend my boyfriend installed my chin-up bar for me. I'm sort of remotely pretend in shape at the moment. Which both means I can hold myself up for 1-2 second, but I'm also mentally prepared to not do it for longer than that. He got it up and told me to put my weight on it to make sure it would hold. I did my two seconds and every muscle between my finger tips and my lower back said, "Wow, ow, ok good she's stopping." It was the best 2 second workout ever. I get major tinglies every time I pass under it now. I can't wait to do it again.

Last week I had another minor milestone. I did 6 squats with a weighted bar, held behind my neck just like the professionals. I've been doing the remedial stretching and strengthening to be able to do squats with no weights, putting my hands wherever just for balance. Of course, every day I go to work at a desk for 8 hours and largely undo the stretching I did, but eventually the work will accumulate. It already is, slowly.

No Stale Nuts

I was doing six things at once in the kitchen and accidentally found out that raw nuts can be roasted in the microwave.

The main trick seems to be to cook them for a minute or two, stir them, let them sit a couple of minutes, then repeat. When I try to do all the cooking at once, some of them burn and some of them don't cook at all. It's like the heat distributes while they sit.

I haven't done too much experimenting, but I have noticed that sunflower seeds are done when they turn brown (even though they smell done before they turn brown.) Alternately almonds are done when they smell done (even though they haven't turned brown yet.) They turn brown after cooling for a few minutes.

Dad Feet

I look at feet when people wear sandals. Some are pink and smooth and moisturized, some are white and crusty with dead skin, cracked skin and callouses. My feet always looked fine so I never touched them, but then somebody gave me some foot exfoliation lotion and I loved it. My feet felt better, and I didn't even know they hurt.

I had callouses around some of my toenails that kind of hurt. I went to my dad's house to ask him to take them off with a razor blade. This makes doctors cringe but it works so well if you're careful. My dad took them off like a pro, complete with extra task lighting and magnifying glasses. Then he showed me his "ugly toenail." It was just slightly dented in an accident a long time ago. But OMG. His feet are beautiful. Pink and smooth and moisturized. He scrubs them with a soapy wash cloth everyday. It was a surprising point of refinement in a man so little concerned with appearances. And a seeming impossibility for someone with such feet endangering pasttimes - gardening barefoot, running, hiking & logging trees, and losing control of heavy sharp objects wielded during home improvement projects.

Too Fast Space Bear...

...you know I only like lemon pie!