The Pain of Losing a Friend

I haven’t written much in years. The more I progressed in my career the less energy and creativity I had left over to do what I love in my off time. When I get home at night I am a mental zombie. And much more so since May 2019 when my life turned upside down. I am moved to put pen to paper tonight to express the deep longing and regret I feel. To pour out some of these never-ending thoughts circling in my head every day. You see it has been five months since my friend of twenty-two years, my best friend, my sister by choice, the person I shared my deepest feelings with, the person I pictured enjoying retirement with even more so than my husband, unexpectedly took her own life. After the disbelief subsides, the best word to describe the situation, the feeling, is heartbreak. Total gut-wrenching, heartbreak.

You see, my friend Holly was one of the great loves of my life. Yes, I am married and my husband and sons are the other great loves of my life, and no this is not a gay thing. She is truly one of the deepest loves in my life. She was the right kind of sister I never got through blood but always needed. She taught me that beautiful people can also be good people. She taught me that some women can be trusted and love and treat us like sisters should. She taught me to love myself (or tried to) and to accept all kinds of people that are different from me. Because that’s who she was, she accepted everybody. She taught me what it means to be a real friend. She gave me encouragement, understanding, and when ever I lost my way or grew insecure she was the one that could and would make me feel better. She always saw the positive traits in me and would remind me when I forgot them myself. Even just a one hour lunch with Holly would get my mind strait again. Although it took me awhile to grow into as a good of a friend to her as she was to me (maturity), being a caring friend to Holly was my most honored role. I did recognize her weaknesses but admired her for so many things, she had so many strengths. She was also the only one that ever read this blog back when I wrote regularly.

I’ve been grieving through the natural stages, but it doesn’t come tidy in a linear fashion or twelve-step program, but more like the tangled cord of my ear buds, or a pile of spaghetti noodles. Disbelief. Sadness. Regret. Doubt. Sadness mixed with Anger. Love. Acceptance. Abandonment. Anger & blame again, back to sadness, three glorious days of acceptance, then back to questioning everything all over again. Its always hard to lose someone you love, it hurts. Add in suicide, and it’s impossible to process.  I have been seeing a counselor which helps me talk through it. I have to learn to live with the fact that I will never know why. I have to stop speculating and theorizing and accept that there is no answer.

But one thing I am not sure if I will ever get over is the feeling I got today.  I was driving from work to pick up something quick for lunch when the thought entered my mind, “I haven’t heard from Holly in a while, I should text her.” And then a split second later my brain reminds me I cannot text her, she is dead. But that was totally a normal thought I would have had before. We didn’t speak or see each other every day. We both had busy lives on opposite sides of town. Maybe we saw each other in person once a month, but we usually didn’t go more than a week without texting or Facebook messaging each other, and sometimes it was daily, depending on what was going on in our lives. This sudden urge to text or call her comes on frequently. Every time I realize I cannot, it rips my heart out all over again. I will never hear her voice again; her laugh. I will never again see that bright smile of hers in person, or hug her body, or hear her call me Katy Girl. Her laugh, her jokes – I miss them so much. That way she made me, and each person she knew, feel special.

Holly had a Twitter account that she never used. She followed me, but was never on it and her family didn’t even know she had it. In order to cope with these crazy strong desires to talk to her, I tweet to her. It helps me feel like I get to say what I want to say to her, even if no one but me sees it or knows what it means. My regrets were that I didn’t make sure she knew how much she meant to me. I told her often. We were both very vocal about how much we appreciated each other and loved each other, but I still don’t think she fully understood just how special she was to me. I think about her every single day. Every single day I wish there was a way to turn back time, to prevent this from happening.

If anyone is reading this that is thinking of ending their life, please know that the people that love you, love you so much, it will break them. Maybe it’s your spouse or your mom, your sibling or your best friend, or your dog, but they don’t want to lose you. You are part of what makes their life worth living. If they knew what you were thinking of doing, they would do anything, ANYTHING to stop you, to help you, to keep you here on Earth with them. There are ways to get help. Counseling can work wonders if you find the right person you feel comfortable with. Anti-depressants or anti-anxiety meds can  also work wonders. You’d be amazed at how differently your brain thinks with even a low dose of prescription meds. It might take a couple tries to find the one that works just right for you, but its worth it. I have been on them for years so I can get up every morning and go to work without emotional breakdowns and live my life like a “normal” person. There is no shame in asking for help or using medications to balance out the brain chemicals. It doesn’t mean you are weak. Its not always something you can control. If you had cancer or diabetes, would you deny yourself the medicine? Please, if you are thinking of suicide, please reach out for help and exhaust all avenues before pulling that trigger. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem.

Even though I felt like something was a little off with my BFF, I never asked her if she thought about killing herself because I never thought that was an option for her. I never knew she was in that much internal pain that she would think of that. I never knew she was capable of going to that dark of a place, or capable of such violence. If I had known, of course I would have discussed it with her and tried to help in any way she would have let me. Please reach out. Please speak up.

National Suicide Hotline  800-273-8255 – Available 24-hours a day, or text CONNECT to 741741

Talk to a minister, a teacher, a counselor/therapist, a doctor, a coworker you trust or your HR department at work, your least judgmental parent, any of your top 5 friends or a favorite cousin. Please reach out! Give someone a chance to help before it’s too late.

 

red, white & BLUE

I have been depressed on every 4th of July of my adult life. Independence Day in America is supposed to be outdoor fun with friends, BBQ’s, picnics, parades, water-skiing, camping, fireworks, whatever. And it used to be like that my whole childhood. But somewhere in my twenties, probably after I married an antisocial man, I stopped being invited to parties. I stopped hosting parties. Then I had kids and was fine staying home with them. It also seems like every July we were tight on money so we couldn’t really plan anything big or exciting for an Independence day celebration. But no matter how “ok”” I was with not having plans on July 3rd, by the next day I would feel so down and blue that we were the only ones not doing something fun. My husband and I would light off fireworks at home for our kids and/or take them to the city fireworks display in town. But always just us, never an extended group of friends or family. I missed being around a group.

A few years ago we were watching the local fireworks when tears started running down my cheeks. I was thinking of my Dad. My Dad loved fireworks! He loved the big booms. He would laugh and cheer. My dad died in 2007. That night that I was crying during the grand finale, I could hear his laughter in my mind and could picture what he would be saying if he was there. It was happy memories but made me miss him so much. I was so sad my kids never got to experience fireworks with my Dad. Every year since, I have that same feeling watching the fireworks.

This year I wasn’t going to be feeling sorry for myself. This year I booked something fun for us. We didn’t have any summer camp or child care costs this year and since we had a four day weekend, I booked us a vacation rental cabin in the mountains. We had a great relaxing family weekend. We were even able to meet up with friends for fun in the river. However, we did actually come home on the morning of the 4th since we had to work the next day. I’ve had a lot on my mind lately, but all was mostly ok for the first time in a long time. And then it happened. I saw my picture posted on Facebook, for all to see: fat me in a swimsuit from a bad angle, Fat me’s leg cellulite, Fat me looking fatter than I’ve ever looked or felt before. And there it was; depression set in instantly. I was so down on myself the rest of the day, I didn’t even go watch the fireworks that night, just stayed inside comforting the dogs.

So I guess the moral of the story is, I am going to be blue on America’s carefree fun day, every year, no matter what I do. Maybe the sooner I accept it, the easier it will be. Maybe I’ll never again be part of a beach party at a lake house. Maybe I’ll never be surrounded by excitement again. Maybe that is just what happens with old age and a boring marriage. Maybe I’m not the only one with holiday plan envy. Shout out if you share in my mid-summer misery. At least we should feel better by next week.

Diagnosis & Treatment: My Story of EE

I have a medical condition that I cannot pronounce or spell. I was diagnosed with Eosinophilic Esophagitis (EE) back in 2008/2009. I never had any issues getting food stuck in my throat as a child, the symptoms had only begun in my thirties. I had a few incidents of meat or bread getting stuck in my throat. When this happens I cannot make myself throw it back up no matter how hard I try. I’m not choking, I can still breathe, but I cannot even swallow my own spit and so any liquid I try to wash it down with, and my saliva, come back up every couple minutes. I have to keep trying to wash it down with water or sit and wait for it to finally slide down. It can be very painful and it can also be extremely embarrassing, especially when it happens at a restaurant. It could take anywhere from 5 minutes to 45 minutes to get the issue resolved.

I finally went to a doctor after I had a Mucinex pill get stuck in my throat. The pill ended up dissolving in my throat, burning it. So I went to an ear/nose/throat specialist who sent me for imaging thinking there was some kind of “ledge or web” in my throat stuff was getting caught on. They didn’t see anything wrong with my throat in the initial x-rays. Since I seemed to have the most trouble when swallowing pills, they gave me a placebo pill and sure enough, it immediately stuck. They were then able to see where the problem was. They referred me to the Digestive Health Clinic, where that Doctor told me it was EE. I still don’t fully understand what causes it, but it is most likely caused by or related to allergies. Definition: Eosinophilic esophagitis is a chronic immune system disease in which a type of white blood cell (eosinophil) builds up in the lining of the tube that connects your mouth to your stomach (esophagus). This buildup, which is a reaction to foods, allergens or acid reflux, can inflame or injure the esophageal tissue. Damaged esophageal tissue can lead to difficulty swallowing or cause food to get caught when swallowing. It has been identified only in the past two decades, but is now considered a major cause of gastrointestinal illness. At first I thought I was a rare weird one, but I am now finding out more people have this issue than I ever imagined.

The treatment for EE is to have an esophageal dilation. When I had this done the doctor told me the inside of my esophagus was only as big around as an ink pen before he was able to stretch it. Not much can fit down a tunnel that small. The gastro doctor then prescribes a heartburn/reflux medication such as pantoprazole or omeprazole to take for the REST OF YOUR LIFE. Even if you don’t suffer from heartburn or acid reflux. He also prescribed a steroid inhaler (Flovent) to be swallowed into the mouth/throat, rather than inhaled, believing the steroids can help the inflammation in the throat. The dilation is not a one-time cure and is typically needed every 10 years.

I just had my second esophageal dilation. Yep, that is only about seven years after my first, not ten. Things were pretty good for the first couple years after dilation but then I started having problems swallowing food and pills again and the frequency has greatly increased over the last couple years. I felt the pantoprazole I was taking wasn’t working and after seeing a news story linking long term usage of heartburn medications to early dementia, I decided to stop taking it. (I’m already losing my mind, I don’t need help in that area). About six months later I couldn’t take it anymore and went back for another dilation (June 30, 2016). The good news is the doctor said it was not as bad as the first time. The bad news is that the nurse and doctor both told me EE problems can lead to esophageal cancer in the future and that is why its so important to take the prescribed medication. Crap! LIGHT BULB MOMENT! I cannot even imaging how horrible it would be to have throat cancer. How could you eat? Eating is my favorite! Cancer in by food-hole would be the worst punishment for me. Taking away my lady parts would be better than taking away my ability to eat. Ugh! This scared me enough to be a very good patient from now on and take my medicine. Which he actually gave me omeprazole this time and upped my dosage. And he is sending me to a food allergist to see if there is something I am eating that could be making it worse. I am interested to see what we find out at the allergist. Luckily I am at the age where I am taking my health more seriously and will make sacrifices in my diet to live longer and prevent disease. I will be willing to give up some foods, hopefully nothing I love too much. I guess we shall see.

In the meantime I feel like I should start petitioning drug & supplement companies to make their pills smaller. Why do they have to be so freaking huge? It is ridiculous. I’d rather have to take 3 of something and have it be smaller than take one huge pill. If they can make a tiny birth control pill why can’t they make some of these others smaller? I will not be able to take these herbal supplements ever again unless I grind them up. The capsules in the middle are the largest size I can take without issues. As more people are diagnosed with EE I think we should rise up together and make these companies change their ways. Who’s with me?

Race Day – My first 5K

I got busy with life and never finished journaling about my Couch to 5K experience.

The week before the race I did pretty well on my runs, had a better attitude, and started believing I could actually do this. That was a good week and a good feeling. Our last group run before the race was horrible. It was hot. My legs didn’t seem to want to work and I was running with a limp. That was weird. Nothing had happened, I had not overdone anything or injured myself previously – they just didn’t want to work. I ended up having to walk a larger portion of the end of that run than I should have. So I didn’t have the best confidence heading into race morning. I was exited the time was finally there and I was going to reach my goal. I was excited to do this thing with my friends. Before the race I did everything right as far as sleep, nutrition, hydration and warm up. But I was nervous. I felt so much better once I got to the starting line area and met up with the running group. It really is true that I couldn’t have (or wouldn’t have) done any of this without the group’s support and accountability. Being there with friends and the excitement of the festivities gave me the pump up I needed. I was excited to go. Three of us lined up in the 12 minute mile section, and although the other two are typically ahead of me on our runs I managed to keep up with them pretty well for the first mile. The first mile was great. Crowded, but felt good that I was at a good pace, passing some people, and didn’t even have to walk over the incline of the bridge. Nope, I did not stop once for that whole first mile. The periodic walk breaks did start a bit into mile 2 and I dropped further behind my faster friends as expected. Mile 2 was getting frustrating due to the amount of children walking on the left hand side of the path instead of keeping right. Don’t those little bastards know the rules? And where are their parents? That whole second mile I really tried positive self talk and kept chanting in my head, “the body is a machine, the body can keep going. The body is a machine, the body can keep going,” trying to convince myself I didn’t need to stop. There was an Asian teenage girl and a lady in her forties with a blonde ponytail that we kept all passing each other than slowing down, passing each other than slowing down. They kind of became my new running team, they just didn’t know it. When mile 3 started I was like “oh hell no, I am not walking any more, I can totally do this and I need to run across that finish line. When my family sees me I better be running. When the finish line camera snaps a photo, I better be running.” And I did muster whatever energy I had left to make sure I ran that final 0.1 mile. And then…”where’s the finish line? The Finish line should be here by now. Hey, there’s my coach waving. Hey, this has definitely been more than 0.1 miles since I crossed the river…. any second now, any second now.” Out loud I say to myself (panting heavily) “You can do this” and an older lady ahead of me turns her head, smiles, and says “Thanks I needed that.” Then we turned the corner, went another fifty yards and the Finish Line was finally there. Yes, come to find out that course was too long. Instead of 3.1 miles for the 5K, it was actually 3.3. Probably not a big deal to most, unless you are a first time runner trying not to collapse, then it makes a big difference. The farthest I had run up until that point was 2.9 miles. My final time was 43:22, which was around what I expected. But the timing didn’t matter to me so much as just finishing, staying upright, and being done. My husband and kids were right by the finish line cheering me on, which meant so much to me since they are not the most enthusiastic crowd-loving people, so I ran over for a quick hug as soon as I was done. Then met up with the running girls who all came in at all various times. It was an awesome feeling – we did it! Whew. This couch potato ran & completed her first 5K race!

 

Couch to 5K: Weeks 2 – 7

I haven’t given you the weekly play by play of my Couch to 5K training (you’re welcome) for two reasons. One, I’ve been very busy and tired. And two, I have been keeping a running diary that our coach gave us. But so many emotions are going on right now, its time for me to put it down and think through it.

I was very pleasantly surprised the first couple weeks of “running” in the Couch to 5K group class. I didn’t hate it. I didn’t keel over. I didn’t love the actual running part, but I loved the warm up, the group, the cool down, and I loved the feeling of accomplishment after it was over. Those first 2-3 weeks I was just so amazed that I was able to do the 60 seconds, then 90 seconds, then 3 minute intervals. I felt very proud of myself and thought, “hey, I might be able to do this after all”.

I have had some struggles and lessons along the way. I suffered with shin splints weeks two and three so I bought compression sleeves for my shins and they eventually went away. I learned the hard way, you do not go on a morning run without some breakfast and hydration; get up earlier. I learned that shady paths are the best, sun on a run is my enemy. Hills are my undoing, and the sad thing is they aren’t even really hills, just bridges or upward slopes on the greenbelt. And I learned that for the most part, each week is the same amount of difficulty. When we were doing a minute and a half, 3 minutes seemed impossible, but then we did it, and then 5 minutes seemed impossible, then we did it, then 8 minutes. But if I had to pick, I did struggle with week 4 the most – this was the introduction of 5 minute intervals. This was the first week I didn’t feel proud of myself after the runs, at least not until I finally nailed that 5 minute streak.

We are now on week 7 – no more intervals! The runs are now twenty-five minutes at a time. And I am noticing a huge change in my attitude the last two weeks. Those first few weeks I felt accomplished, proud and excited I was making progress. My goals going into this were pretty laid back, I set my bar low – just cross the finish line, hopefully run at least half of it. But somewhere along the line I got caught up in…something… the competitiveness with myself or the others…or started feeling cocky, expecting myself to be able to do it. So now I feel disappointed in myself when I cannot run the full time without stopping. I feel grumpy about not making it all the way. I know I shouldn’t feel that way. Before this started I didn’t even know if I could run one minute, and was happy with myself just taking the dog for a walk. I never imagined myself actually running. Now I am up to twenty-minutes on my best day, or more typically ten minutes at a time. So I know I should just be happy I’m moving and being active. It is still great progress for an asthmatic couch potato. Dang you Aries traits that want to be good at it or don’t do it at all. This is why I never did sports as a kid – well besides the constant asthma attacks – I’d try something and if I wasn’t good at it right away, I didn’t like it and didn’t do it again. I don’t want to be that way anymore. I want to push myself. It is all mental. I just need to change my attitude and perspective and be happy for any run time I accomplish.

Running?

Today, Monday March 21, 2016, starts a new chapter in my book. Today I will start running for the first time in my life. On purpose. Yes, RUNNING. Me! This does not sound like me, the asthmatic who had a doctor’s excuse from PE so I wouldn’t have to run. The one that cannot go anywhere without her inhaler. The one that said I would never run unless being chased with a knife and even then I might take my chances. Today I will exercise my God-given right as a woman to change my mind.

Before I gain new perspective on running in the weeks to come, I want to discuss my reasons for finally giving in to the run-bug.

First, I have been wishing for better fitness level and skill, not only to be healthier and more active, but also to be a survivor. Whether it is outrunning a zombie hoard in the apocalypse, outrunning a would be rapist kidnapper, or chasing my dog down the street when he escapes from the front door I need to be able to take care of myself (and those I love) by being capable. I jokingly write down my running goal as “to be able to outrun zombies” even if I don’t actually believe the zombie apocalypse is going to happen. It could be any life or death situation you see in an action movie. I have always felt like I had strong muscles, yet also always felt weak my whole life as to what I can do with this body, like my muscles didn’t know what to do. I had such weak lungs I was always afraid. I knew if my life depending on me running, I was a goner. Like the great move Zombieland says #1 Rule to live by in the apocalypse is CARDIO! So if I can tackle running, this is one more item I can cross off my list of things that make me a weak victim versus a strong survivor. (1^st item was being blind – with contacts I would have lasted 4 weeks in the zombie apocalypse, now that I had Lasik and can see without assistance, I totally upped my chances to like 4 months)

The second reason is that I was inspired by a new friend. She took my BFF’s Couch to 5K course this winter. She was not an “athlete” just like I am not an “athlete” and yet she did the course, she did the 5K and I watched her cross the finish line. Her runners high, sense of accomplishment and new-found belief in herself was evident and well worth it. It started me thinking that maybe I could / should stretch myself and go outside my comfort zone too and just maybe I could do something to surprise myself too. So whether I ever run again after this 5K in May is over or not, if I can commit to this, complete this and cross the finish line, then I will have succeeded. Remember, in 2016 the year of Katy, I want to stretch myself, break my own mental boundaries and do more than I ever thought was capable. This is a great first step. I may not be able to control much in this life, its time I control this body instead of it controlling me.

The Castaway Plan

I have always wanted to go to Positive Changes and get hypnotized to love eating healthy and exercising. I wanted to hypnotize away my love of yummy food. I felt like that is the only way I could ever stop eating the foods I love that are so bad for me (chocolate, pizza, ice cream, creamy pasta dishes, cheese, breadsticks – take your pick). But lately I have kind of been starting to change my thinking on my own. Unfortunately it hasn’t taken complete hold yet, but when I stop and think about it this is what comes to mind… To have the health and body that I want to have, I should eat as if I am stranded on an uninhabited island.

Now let me clarify – I don’t mean to starve myself into anorexia. But as I am trying to think of food as fuel versus my favorite hobby, it brings to mind the survivor type shows my family watches. Survivor, Survivorman, The Island, Dude You’re Screwed, Ultimate Alaska Survival, Naked & Afraid, Alone – to name a few. We LOVE our wilderness survival shows in our house. Often on these shows they struggle to find food, and without food they have no energy to build shelter, gather fire wood or walk themselves to civilization. I remember on one episode – I think it was Naked Castaway – the guy was finding small snails or limpets of some kind on a rock, eating them and saying how many calories were in each one (something ridiculously small like 15 calories) and how many he would have to eat to get enough nutrition. On the show Alone, the men were almost starving on rainy days they could not get out and find food. Catching a fish was the highlight of their stay and kept them strong for another day. One guy was busting his balls trying to catch a moose to eat. A moose! Like who would that fill up? Starving people, that is who. So when I want to graze out of boredom or gobble up some deliciousness for the fun of it, instead I need to think about how if I was on that island, and I’d had a banana for breakfast, a citrus & beet salad for lunch, and a chicken & shrimp skewer for dinner, that would totally be enough to keep me surviving and moving. I don’t have to eat three slices of pizza to survive. If I was stranded on an island there would be no pizza, I would be happy to find snails and a coconut. (yuck) But you get the drift. I don’t want to starve myself, and I don’t want to eat like I’m poor circa Hunger Games. I just want to retrain my body to become more realistic on what it actually needs to survive and function. I have let my food cravings dictate my life for far too long. Now my body needs to use fat stores for energy. And replacing junk food with nutrient rich foods makes me feel great after eating instead of tired and bloated. When I do “cheat” I need to eat smaller portions because I am not climbing trees, chopping logs, or hiking across glaciers to burn enough calories to justify eating like a lumber jack or a navy seal. I sit at a desk for most of the day. Instead of feeling deprived when I can’t have French Fries, and am getting sick of sweet potatoes and chicken, I need to remember if I was stranded on an island I would be ecstatic to have sweet potatoes or chicken, its more than most of those “survivors” get in a day. Give me some salmon, squash and an apple and I should be good. No one needs Ding Dongs or Cool Ranch Doritos to survive. I wonder how many chemicals are in that cool ranch powder flavoring anyway?

In America we have so many choices in food and drinks; we are used to it all at our finger tips. (And the commercials – damn you Olive Garden!) But if you really look next time you are at Grocery store, it is REDICULOUS! We have a hundred different kinds of breakfast cereal. We have three or more brand names of every sauce or condiment there is, plus an original and fat free version of each. We have thirteen different flavors of Ranch dressing. And the number of different flavors and brands of potato chips is out of this world. How many brands and styles of every stupid thing is there? Juices, Pop or Beer – don’t get me started. But if I was surviving in nature (where none of those foods exist because those are all contrived with chemicals in labs and factories) I would have basic choices of meats and vegetables and need to make my meals from those. I am learning to bring vegetables of all kinds into my daily menu and it feels good. The Whole30 program started me on this course and now it is my responsibility to keep going, to keep making good choices, and to retrain my brain myself, without being hypnotized.

Stumbling Along, the Journey Continues

I haven’t blogged since my thirty days of the Whole30 ended, eleven days ago. January was a success for me – I stayed true to the Whole30 program and ended up losing 15 pounds and two inches off my waist. I was so happy with the results and it was enough incentive for me to continue to eat healthy and use what I’ve learned. However, since then I have had a number of ups and downs. I was very tired the last week of the program and was looking forward to adding a few foods back into my menu. But then when the day finally got here I was almost afraid to have anything non-compliant and still have not had some of the things I was craving. I did pretty good the first five days, having one piece of bread one night or using store bought spaghetti sauce over my spaghetti squash instead of the homemade sauce another, but mostly ate the same natural foods and was able to stay the same weight…until Friday. Friday was the first day I had something really bad – a cupcake at the office SuperBowl potluck. Saturday was half good, half naughty and Sunday was a strait out sinful day full of simple carbs. I never want to eat Velveeta cheese dip again. Ever! I felt so sick. I was over-stuffed (a feeling I hadn’t had in over a month) and miserable. I felt so down on myself, so much guilt. The good news is, I feel like I learned a valuable lesson. I don’t like how I feel on bad-for-me, “food with no brakes” foods. I need, want and crave the healthy fuel that gives me good energy and makes me feel proud of myself.

So I am back on the plan with alterations. I have gone from about 900 calories a day to 1200. I am allowing myself tortillas and black beans. I will allow myself restaurant vinaigrette and feta cheese on my salad. Since I didn’t really have any health issues or stomach issues when I started the Whole30 (just no energy, bloated and sugar addiction) I feel like I can add these items back into my life in moderation. Most other things I can live without. I might have a treat now and then but I am going to try to limit them as much as possible. I even went through the Dairy Queen drive-thru for the kid this afternoon without getting myself anything or tackling him for a bite of his ice cream. I stayed strong and the more often I do that, the easier it gets. I will not be perfect, and that will be fine as long as I do my best and continue to keep the fat off. I say fat versus weight because I do plan on building muscle and cannot be fixated on what the scale says, but need to go by my body composition, energy and the waistband of my pants. Have you done the Whole30 before? If so, how did you feel once it was over and what did you incorporate back in?

Whole 30: Day 25 – Nothing sounds good.

Hello. A few days have gone by since I last posted on my Whole 30 journey. Last week (week 3) – was a mix of so boring there’s nothing to say to so cranky it would be a twenty minute negative rant. I spared you most of that. You’re welcome. I am now on Day 25 and I am so close! I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I’m starting to secretly plan my reintroduction phase, or at least contemplate different things I might try, and look forward to having my weekends back.

The Whole 30 Program provides us (in book or online) a general timeline of what we will most likely experience during the 30 days based off millions of experiences over the years. Some of it has been spot on for me and some of it I have been way off course. For example, week 1 is typically when you are tired with no energy and your “Tiger’s Blood” energetic phase is supposed to come around days 16-27. Not for me. I felt GREAT for most of those first two weeks, more energy than now. I think a lot of it was a more positive attitude. Week 3 through today I have had off and on days of “OMG this fresh pear is so delicious, this salad is awesome” to “Nothing sounds good. I don’t even want to eat”. I really think it is my natural (Aries) tendency to get bored with things quickly. I’ve eaten pounds upon pounds of ground turkey and sweet potatoes this month (I do love it) and have tried to mix it up with recipes from the book or Pinterest, but have only had about a 50% success rate with those. And when they don’t turn out well, it wastes a lot of ingredients, time and energy. I actually do best when I leave it simple such as grilled lean steak with steamed broccoli, or cedar plank salmon with asparagus. Nothing too crazy. I was in the kitchen on my feet for 9 freaking hours on Saturday. NINE! (With one break to run to the store for stuff I forgot). I don’t even work that hard at work. I was physically and mentally exhausted by evening and hadn’t done a lick of housework to show for it. Food prep was fun the first hour as I started my soups, but the later the day got and I still wasn’t done with dinners, the more resentful I felt. My success of the day was Cabbage Soup – I thought it was delicious and I have enough for 5 more meals. Failure of the day: Roasted Red Pepper & Cauliflower Soup – I must have missed something because mine is not liquid enough to be considered soup. It is more like pumpkin baby food. And I have 5 days’ worth to throw away.

I survived the food dreams and cravings just fine, surprisingly, but I am definitely in the “Interlude: I am so over this” stage (Day 21). Good news is I am not having cravings or tempted to cheat. Bad news is, I just don’t even care about eating. Nothing sounds good. I’ll just sit here until my stomach starts to eat itself. I’d rather take a nap. I could really use a nap. Nope, better get up and make myself something to eat again. But the good news is I only have five more days to go until I have free will in the kitchen again. I can tell this month has been great for my body, weight, health, and cooking habits, not to mention a huge sense of satisfaction and achievement for being able to stick to it. I know I will walk away with better habits and be more conscience about what I put into my body. But I also know myself well enough to know I cannot live within this strict of parameters and could not last like this long term. I do still plan on eating a mostly Paleo diet with a few well deserved cheats here or there. And I should still have enough left over ingredients to continue to use the healthy foods and oils in my cooking – it just probably won’t involve hours of making homemade mayonnaise, ketchup and dressings. If you’re doing the Whole 30 too, stick with it. If you on contemplating doing it, DO IT! Overall, it isn’t as hard as I thought it would be. If I can do this, anyone can. Even when I sound negative about it, that is just the lack of carbs talking, I know it is working wonders.

 

I Want A Donut!

I want a fucking donut! Not because I actually want to eat that sugary fried happiness, but because I am so tired of cooking. A toasted low-fat whole wheat waffle with peanut butter takes 2 minutes and is only 165 calories. A bowl of instant oatmeal only takes a minute, and my favorite Greek Yogurt is already in the fridge. Running to the store for a donut would take ten minutes roundtrip. But I can’t have any of those things. There is nothing quick and easy about this Whole30 eating plan. I’ve spent hours in the kitchen dicing vegetables, steaming, baking, chopping, peeling, dicing more vegetables. I’ve dirtied so many dishes, knives, choppers – my dirty dishes volume has tripled. And that is a chore I already hate with passion.

So am I happy today? Obviously not. After doing the rest of the dishes from last night, chopping, and then cooking the spinach frittata, I finally got to eat breakfast at 11am. I’ve spent more time on my feet in the kitchen the last week alone than I normally do in a month. I’m worn out and cranky. As soon as I get one meal’s mess cleaned up its time to make the next one. Make that two meals – a healthy meal for me and a normal meal the family will eat. I want someone else to cook and clean. I want it to be easier to eat healthy. Let’s get a drive-thru fast food place that is all Paleo and whole30 meals pre-prepped. Or a pizza place that delivers “Mom’s salad & Whole30 approved dressing” with the kids’ large pepperoni. Well, I only have thirteen and a half days left so I guess I can put up with being the kitchen bitch for two more weeks if it means I lose another five pounds. But that won’t stop me from complaining and daydreaming of donuts.