Thoughts on The Whole30

I have this friend who’s been on the gluten-free bandwagon for a long time, and here’s what I’ve always told her: if you take away beer, pizza and cookies, I don’t have much left to live for.

Okay sure, there’s the kids, but whatever. All I’m saying is that giving up wheat is really not consistent with my world view.

But then the Universe would not shut up about The Whole30, and all the wonderful things that would happen if I gave up wheat, AND all the other grains, and sugar and alcohol and dairy and even legumes, for chrissakes. (Everyone knows that black beans are healthy, right?)

Shut up, Universe. There’s no way I’d ever do something THAT crazy.

Still, there were an awful lot of people making an awful lot of claims about The Whole30 that really appealed to me: clearer skin. Better sleep. Reduced joint pain. And of course, weight loss. These are things I want badly, and have wanted badly for a long time. Badly enough to give up all those foods? Even drinking?

Finally, after a high school reunion weekend that involved way too much alcohol, I felt fat and lousy. I decided it was time to try something drastic. And there was that damn Whole30, coming at me from blogs and social media and bookstores…

At the same time, I started working with a life coach. I heard myself telling her all the reasons I couldn’t possibly do The Whole30, and I sounded like a big loser.

So I decided I better do it.

And I did. Perfectly. The whole damn thing—no cheating. I don’t have a great track record of sticking with diets, and I’ve never tried anything this strict. However, I think that’s exactly why I was able to do The Whole30: because you can’t half-ass it. You follow the rules, or you start over. Simple as that. No negotiating in your head, no hemming and hawing; this is all-or-nothing.

Honestly, it wasn’t difficult to give up those foods. After the first couple days, I genuinely didn’t miss anything except wine, which I’ll discuss later. The most difficult aspect for me was the lack of convenience. Because you are using no processed foods, you can’t just hit a drive-through on your way to work because you overslept. You can’t pick up a pizza on the way home if you don’t feel like cooking. You must plan ahead and prepare most of your food from scratch. Cooking everything from scratch is time-consuming. The change to my lifestyle was much tougher than the change to my diet.

The Whole30 promises to change the way you look at food, and I can attest to that. Here are some ways it did that:

  • Once you stop eating junk, you stop craving it. So instead of choosing food based on cravings, I was free to choose food that I knew would make me feel good and keep me full. That really happened; I just didn’t want junk food.
  • I knew there was a lot of sugar in processed food, but I didn’t realize it is EVERYWHERE. Did you know rotisserie chicken has sugar in it? Once you start reading labels, you really get suspicious of food manufacturers. I would walk in to a 7-11 (for Perrier! My new love!) and I would get angry at the rows upon rows of brightly-packaged JUNK. I’d think, “Here is a whole room of things people eat, none of which are food.” It wasn’t a holier-than-thou feeling. It was frustration. Where is the actual food?
  • I realized that most of the reasons I eat certain things were not because of hunger, or even moods—just triggers. I want popcorn because I’m watching a movie. I want wine because it’s Friday. I want diet Coke because I always have one while I’m out running errands.

Once I got my groove on with the cooking and food prep, I really enjoyed my Whole30. I tried new foods (rutabaga, anyone?) and new cooking techniques. I even had a dinner party with all-compliant foods. It was like a fun experiment.

The Results

Sugar cravings: you already heard about the cravings being gone. My Whole30 ended over a week ago and I still haven’t had any sweets. I really don’t want them. On the other hand, fruit tastes delicious! So sweet! Beer and wine taste sweeter to me, too. My palate is has definitely adjusted to appreciate the natural sweetness in food.

Sleep: I slept like a baby on The Whole30–deep, wonderful sleep. I habitually woke up before my alarm, and towards the end of the month, I even stopped hitting the snooze button. I did have some wacky food dreams, but I hear that’s typical of detoxing.

Periods: OMG. I can’t believe how much better my PMS symptoms were. I typically have two brutally emotional days just before my period—weepiness, horrible thoughts—I’m a wreck. I started the Whole30 four days before my period and finished it two days before the next one. I had NO weepy days. Also, I typically take Advil to manage cramps for at least three days of my period. Both periods required Advil on the first day only. I can’t even remember the last time I had it that easy.

Mood: I’m a moody girl, very prone to depression. I noticed that my general outlook was markedly better during The Whole30. Fewer bad days and better good days. Some days I felt so happy, it was kind of ridiculous. The world may not be ready for Super Perky Meg.

Diet Coke: I kicked a lifetime diet Coke habit. Seriously, I was like a crack whore for diet Coke. I drank it first thing in the morning and often exceeded 64 ounces a day. I know that’s gross and dangerous, and I was actually pretty ashamed of that habit. Now, I don’t want diet Coke at all. I drink iced tea for caffeine in the morning (I don’t like coffee) and I drink sparkling water (unsweetened) when I want something fizzy. Diet Coke actually tastes gross to me now. I have absolute confidence that I am done with diet Coke.

And finally, weight loss: I lost 10 pounds. That’s pretty good for me. Usually, two pounds per week is the best I can expect. I wish I had taken before and after pictures, or measurements, because I’m pretty sure my gut shrank, and my face seems thinner.

The Less-Than-Stellar Bits

My skin didn’t clear up much. This was disappointing for me because so many people rave about what The Whole30 does for their skin. I understand that skin takes a long time to respond to changes—dermatologists have always told me it takes months to see the effects of medication on skin, and I’ve read the same about dietary changes, so I suspect it just didn’t have enough time.

I really missed alcohol. I didn’t struggle with cravings; I just missed it. It was hard to go to parties without drinking, and I abandoned all hope of internet dating without the help of wine– forget that. I realized how much the world revolves around alcohol. Giving it up wasn’t fun.

Many people experience significant reduction in joint pain on TheWhole30. My old lady hip felt a little improved, but not significantly. Again, I may not have given this enough time. Overall, my body felt much less stiff on the Whole30, but that one hip continued to hurt.

I completely bombed the re-entry. You’re supposed to re-introduce foods gradually, one group at a time, and note the effects they have on your squeaky-clean system. Because I didn’t plan well and I had social events immediately following my 30 days, I got sloppy and mixed up the groups. Also I drank too much. Not out of hand, just more than I should have introduced into my system. Sure enough, I felt lousy, but I can’t tell you which food-culprits are responsible.

Did it change my life?

Somebody asked me whether The Whole30 changed my life. I think it did, and after a week off the Whole30, I can tell you why. This week, I’ve been eating less carefully, but I’m really not enjoying it. I had pizza the other night—good pizza that I’ve always loved—and it was fine, but it wasn’t delicious. Certainly wasn’t worth feeling lousy for. And beer doesn’t seem so great anymore, either. I took one bite of a cupcake the other night and threw the rest away. Who am I?!?

After being off it for a week, I realize more and more how different I feel when I make poor food choices. My mood tanked. I’m sad because my sleep is no longer amazing and I feel like I screwed it up. All I want is to get back to Whole30 health as soon as I can, for as long as I can. I know what healthy feels like, and I want that feeling more than I want pizza, beer or cookies. That’s a pretty significant change.

Probably the biggest life-changer: I did something that I thought was really hard, something a lot of people can’t seem to finish. I felt very strong and in-control, which was a great feeling. It’s been a while since I felt this sense of accomplishment, and it makes me want to take on more goals. If I can finish The Whole30, what else can I do?

Yoga Realizations: Abundance & Scarcity

Yoga. I never bothered to try it, because I assumed that a large, inflexible, uncoordinated woman with poor balance would not be able to do yoga.

About a month ago, I finally gave it a shot. All my girlfriends were doing it, and I just wanted to be cool. Peer pressure caused me to experiment with yoga.

I was correct. I can’t do it. And I love it so much, I wish I had tried it years ago.

I didn’t realize that yoga is magic. When you require your body to attempt what it really cannot do for a good solid hour, until you’re sweaty and exhausted, your brain apparently winds up in some kind of crazy super-freedom state that allows you to think beautiful new thoughts.

(Aside: I suppose this must be what certain drugs do for you, too….except if you do a whole bunch of drugs you wind up looking like shit, but if you do a whole bunch of yoga, you wind up looking awesome.)

I can tell you that I must look ridiculous in my yoga practice, which is okay because I can’t see myself. I’m sure I never look like a warrior or a tree or a crow, but at the end of class, I’ll be damned if I don’t think like a yogi.

This is good news, because my thoughts are kind of shaky these days. I’m still off-kilter from my recent breakup, and I spend a lot of time either sad, angry, or in a state of rigid avoidance. But for some reason, when I’m physically exhausted and instructed to clear my mind and focus on my breath, amazing thoughts radiate through my consciousness.

I know I sound dramatic, but here’s what happened in my brain at the end of a recent yoga class.

We’re sitting cross-legged (sukhasana! I’m learning!) and the instructor quietly suggests, “Extend your spine, take a deep breath and thank your body for all the hard work you put in today.”

Thanks, body. You did great!

“On your next exhale, round down over your feet and extend your fingers towards the front of your mat. It’s important to recognize how hard your body works and to appreciate all that it’s capable of. Hold that pose for five breaths.”

Hey, feet. Thanks for the hard work.

My feet are okay. They’re not weird-looking or anything and they never give me any trouble. I love my feet.

You know, I actually love my whole body. Hear that? I love you, Body. I have an abundance of love!

….I have an abundance of love.

….I’m not afraid of being alone because I have an abundance of love.

I really thought those things, all in a row, like popcorn popping in my brain. I was probably a little oxygen-deprived in that moment, because sitting cross-legged and bending forward like that causes the bulk of my belly to be crushed up into my lung-space, but whatever. It was worth it for that brilliant realization: I HAVE AN ABUNDANCE OF LOVE.

The class progressed into the meditative portion, where you’re supposed to lie flat, clear your mind, and concentrate on your breath. So of course, that’s when my brain goes nuts.

This “abundance of love” notion rolled right into a burst of clarity regarding my recently-ended relationship. While our relationship was good in many ways, it was always marred by possessiveness and jealousy. I’ve never had that particular problem before, and I didn’t get it. I didn’t understand why those problems kept surfacing, when I didn’t feel like I was doing anything to trigger them. I didn’t understand why we were constantly fighting over nothing.

And right there in yoga class, it came to me. Abundance versus Scarcity.

I have learned about abundance before, but I have always heard it applied to material things. An abundance mentality says that there is plenty for everyone. We can afford to be generous because there is enough to go around.

Scarcity is the opposite of abundance. People who live in scarcity feel that there is never enough, and so they are constantly fighting for their share.

I never applied the notion of Scarcity and Abundance to human relationships before, but BAM!—yoga clarity!—I suddenly saw how it works.

I come from a big, loving family. I was raised with the certainty that I am loved. I have a great circle of friends. I have kids who love me. I recognize that I am extraordinarily fortunate to feel an abundance of love.

I’ve never been one to feel jealous or suspicious; I’m very trusting. I’ve also never cheated on anyone; I don’t see the point—just love who you’re going to love. I have this crazy theory that almost all hurt feelings between friends are the result of misunderstandings, because I truly believe that people who love me would not intentionally hurt me. That’s what my life experience has taught me.

Not everyone has had that life experience. I suppose if you were raised in an environment that was abusive or unstable, or if you suffered through abandonment or infidelity, you might feel emotional scarcity. You might feel like you need to fight for affection, guard it and keep it to yourself. Once you have someone’s affection, you might feel like you could lose it at any moment, and easily become suspicious or jealous.

Suddenly all those fights, all that jealousy and possessiveness made sense. Why I felt so smothered, and why I felt like I could never do, or be, enough. We’re talking about opposite worldviews here. No wonder we couldn’t get along.

That just took me 900 words to explain, but during yoga, it flashed into my brain on one big exhale, like I breathed all the clarity in and all the confusion out.

Peace in… fear out.

Abundance in…scarcity out.

I’m telling you– you gotta try yoga.

It’s June 15; do you know where your New Year’s Resolution is?

2012 is almost halfway over already. I’m shocked by that, and I’m also shocked by the notion that I can continue to be shocked by the same thing that shocks me every year. Time flies. I should be used to it by now.

What did you vow to change in 2012? Have you done it? Are you still working towards it? Or would you like me to shut up now?

I could be doing much better, but it’s not too late to work on it. I’m putting mine out into the blogosphere—it will create accountability for me and maybe it’ll inspire you to keep trying, too.

My resolutions

I was mentally kicking my own ass the other day, thinking about how I have once again fizzled out on all those things that were so important to me just few a months ago. I looked back in my journal to where I wrote them down. (You have to write them down or they don’t count.) After a little evaluating, I was pleasantly surprised to realize that while I haven’t excelled, I haven’t completely bombed, either.

I have three resolutions:

  1. Lose 50 pounds.
  2. Publish something.
  3. Finish the year with the bills current and a certain (secret) amount of savings in the bank.

The First Six Months

Weight loss is the worst of the bunch. I’m up four pounds. I should be down 25 or so by now, or maybe 15 if my body were being uncooperative.  There’s no excuse for gaining—my eating is out of control. However, I have exercised fairly consistently for the first time in my life, so I will give myself credit for that healthy habit.

Publishing is a little bit better.  This blog was the first step towards that goal. Blogging is self-publishing, and I would really like to get some articles published traditionally, but there is more value in blogging than I realized. First, it’s super fun—I highly recommend it—and inspiring, too! I’ve found a number of kindred spirits in the huge, diverse blogging community. I didn’t see that coming. I also didn’t anticipate so much support from you lovely readers.  I am so surprised at who’s been reading this. People mention it and I think, “REALLY?? YOU READ IT?”  Your encouragement has bolstered my ego and my resolve to pursue a freelance career, and it feels pretty wonderful, too. Thank you for all the feedback.  Finally, the process of blogging keeps my writer-brain active and fuels my creativity. I put off blogging for a long time because I didn’t think I had anything to say. Turns out I have all kinds of stuff to say.

I think I’ve had the most growth financially. Much of it is circumstantial; my circumstances sucked last year and they’re getting better. The bills are current and I feel a level of control that I haven’t felt in a long, long time.  My savings goal is lagging; I should have twice as much saved by now. The money that’s in my savings account is not a result of disciplined saving, which is what I really want to develop. It’s there because I resolved a tax issue and it worked in my favor. But I am giving myself credit for resolving the tax issue, because that is part of financial health, too. In recent years I have been so overwhelmed and hopeless that I avoided the tax issue and other things like it. I’ve made great strides in dealing with those financial uglies, and I feel much, much better.

The Next Six Months

Here’s the good news: there is still plenty of time. Six months is enough time to hit every single one of my goals, although it’ll be harder now.

50 pounds in six months may not be realistic, but I would be delighted with 20 or 25. I know how to lose weight; I could write a book on eating for weight loss. However, my motivation is dead in the water. I have to find a way to get it back. I need something different.

Inspired by my friend, Linda, I tried a new gym yesterday called Train Insane.  Linda has lost a lot of weight through their program, and she has developed a love for working out. I want that! I do not love working out. Train Insane offers a weight loss plan and accountability, so I thought I would give it a shot. It was horrible. And painful. I cursed Linda throughout the entire workout. I almost cried in front of the trainer at least four times. Today my muscles are so sore, I am jerking around like a corpse who’s been reanimated by an alien. It sucks.  I will probably sign up for Train Insane. I can’t even tell you why. Maybe so I can get strong enough to beat up Linda. We’ll see how I do.

On the publishing front, I want to continue this blog, of course. But I need to start sending out query letters. (That’s how you get articles in magazines: you come up with a story idea and send it to the editor of a publication.) If I don’t do that, nothing will ever get published by anyone but me. It’s pure procrastination that’s holding me back.  Maybe I need an accountability partner for that. Any takers?

And the money…that’s harder.  I can tell you I’m 50 pounds overweight and not flinch, but the shame I feel about my poor money management is actually painful. The reason my savings goal amount is a secret is because it is so small, I fear that most people would laugh at it. Shame makes it hard to ask for help, but I am learning to be open.  No one can help me save money, but being transparent with people helps me stay on track. There is no way to increase your savings without ACTUALLY LEAVING THE MONEY IN THE BANK, which seems to be where I have trouble. Hopefully, the momentum I’ve gained this year will make it easier for me in the second half.

There you have it—the good, the bad and the hopeful. If you have resolutions you want to revive, comment—maybe we can help each other.

The Care & Feeding of Pets and People

Two things you should know about me:

1. I’m kind of a crazy dog lady. I am the proud but somewhat beleaguered owner of two pit bulls, Rizzo and Rita, for whom I make questionable financial decisions and all manner of accommodations to my lifestyle. They’re my girls.  (Or, when I’m feeling gansta, they my bitches.)  Here are some photos so you can see the adorableness of the dogs.This is the Rizzy P'zizzy

2.  I’m roughly 50 pounds overweight.  That’s better than I was last year, when I was 75 pounds overweight. I’m working on it. You’re not getting a photo of that. It’s not adorable.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about how I care for my darlings versus how I care for myself.

As big, powerful, high-energy animals, pit bulls need a lot of exercise. You can’t expect them to behave if they’re all pent up and miserable.  When I adopted my dogs, I had a big house and a big yard for them to run around in, and we took lots of walks and went on adventures.

Since then, I’ve had to sell my house. (Thank you, stupid economy.) So now I have two big, powerful, high-energy dogs in a two-bedroom apartment with a bitty yard. Walks and adventures have become mandatory. No skipping walks. It’s cruel to keep big animals cooped up.  Since I love them and I am a responsible dog owner, I walk the bejeebers outa those girls.

Here is a huge benefit of owning a dog:  you must exercise, and you will not be excused from it for any reason.

My dogs LIVE for their walks.  They are hyper-sensitive to any indication that a walk is imminent. If I so much as touch a plastic bag, their ears perk up. If I pass near the hook where their leashes hang, their tails wag. I can’t even rummage in my sock drawer without triggering a surge of canine excitement, because socks mean shoes and shoes mean leaving the house and that means WE MIGHT GO FOR A WALK!

Usually I walk the dogs just before or after dinner. So if I’m lingering over dinner, the dogs are getting antsy.  Riz starts whining and giving me THE LOOK. The Look is beyond hopeful. It is urgent, pleading, how-can-I-go-on-living-if-you-don’t-walk-me-RIGHT-NOW desperate.  If you have a dog, you know The Look.

You can’t tell them, sorry; I’ve just done six loads of laundry and I’m too tired to walk you. They don’t care if you have cramps or you’re not in the mood. They NEED to walk.  And since they need it, I do it.

Please refer back seven paragraphs to the point of this post, because there is one.  What I’m saying is, I exercise because my dogs need it. Never mind that I am an overweight woman with depressive tendencies, and exercise is critical for my well-being.  As a matter of fact, like all humans, I am also a big, powerful animal.  Humans also need exercise to keep from being pent up and miserable.  Especially me.  So why does it take 110 pounds of begging, whining pit bull to keep me motivated? I don’t know, but I’m grateful for them.  For a long time, dog walking was the only exercise I got. I’d be the size of a hippo by now if it weren’t for their zero-tolerance no-laziness policy.

Then there’s the matter of diet. (O, Diet, how you plague my soul!) Will I ever really get a grip on my diet?

My dogs get exactly three cups of kibble each, every day, at regular intervals.  They get treats, but not too many. They get table scraps in small amounts, and I do indulge Riz’s weakness for “pizza bones.” (Pizza bones are crusts, and Riz has a weakness for them because I have a weakness for pizza.) But I am very aware that if I give them too many fatty scraps, it will mess with their systems, so I don’t overdo it.  I buy them quality food and I read the label to make sure they’re getting what they need.  If I know that a food is dangerous to dogs, they will never get it. Period.

You see where I’m going with this, don’t you?

Would I let my dogs eat nothing but fast food all weekend just because my daughter isn’t home and I don’t need to cook? No. Because that would be terrible for them, and I wouldn’t do that to my dogs.

Would I buy them super cheap dog food, full of corn meal and by-products, because it is yummy and they’d happily hork it down with delight? No. Because health is more important than the fleeting pleasure of horking down Zingers.  Wait, not Zingers…I meant cheap dog food. Zingers are what I hork down for fleeting pleasure.  And I sure as heck wouldn’t share them with the dogs.

Dogs will eat all kinds of horrible things with gusto, but I guard them from that, because I love them and want them to be healthy.

If only I could guard my own diet with the same vigilance.  If only I could balance my self-indulgence with concern for my well-being. If only I valued my own health as highly as my dogs’…because that’s what it means, doesn’t it?

Why don’t I? I’m pretty lovable, too.  I will try to remind myself of that the next time I run into a Zinger.