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.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Monday, November 19, 2007
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."
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."
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
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....
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....
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
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.
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.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
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.
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 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.
Friday, October 12, 2007
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.
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.
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