#SOL14 - Mindset Reboot

I've been stuck in a circle of sorrow for the past couple months, choosing to have a pity party about my health issues  -- choosing self-defeat -- instead of focusing on the good things.

So my back hurts.
I can walk.
And my neck is chronically stiff and sore.
I can stretch.
I've gained weight by eating mindlessly.
I can focus on each moment and choose what makes me healthy.
I've slid back and am heavier and weaker than I was before.
I am completely capable of regaining the healthy body I want.
It's all up to me.

I turn 40 in September. I can choose to live mindlessly through each day and tumble toward that milestone without making any changes, or I can kick this bad attitude to the curb and start doing something about it. The time will pass either way. The real question is: so what am I going to do about it?

Since my doctors want me stretching daily but the physical therapy exercises are seriously boring me to tears, I decided to take up Pilates. I've done it before and loved it, and I know that when I love an activity I am much more likely to keep it up. I did my first round today, with Sass by my side. Since I want to workout from home, I decided to follow the beginner's workout calendar over at Blogilates. We laughed through most of it, even when she was rolling around on the floor yelling, "No more, no more - wow, this really hurts!"

Welcome to the burn, sister.

And since Grimm has come home, I need to work on leash training him. This is a great excuse to get out and start walking again. Eventually when my back and knees are stronger (and when he outgrows his puppyness), walking will become running. But I won't be able to run again unless I first walk.

Food is the easy part. By choosing to live in the moment and notice my choices, I tend to have great success in eating well. It all comes down to consistently making the smart decisions that will lead me to my end goal -- a long, healthy life.

Being active is the hard part, not because I don't want to do it, but simply because I ache everywhere and am sleepy all the time. Setting appointments for my daily walk and Pilates will be key to pushing through the first begrudging minutes. I know I always feel better about myself and am in a more positive mood with each workout I make it through.

I had hoped to do more of this during spring break, but the truth is I needed this week to just sit and think about what is truly important to me. I restarted my daily meditation practice and found myself falling easily back into that place where the past and future regrets and worries fall away. All that matters is today.

And I am very thankful for today.

I do my best to stay behind the camera these days. This was taken March 14, 2014 with Sass and Grimm!

#Slice2013 - Day 28 of 31

Have I mentioned lately how much 2013 has been rawking my socks off?

I mean, let's get serious for a minute:

• Completion of savings budget? Check!
• New home? Check!
• House remodeling successes? Check!
• Possible career enhancing opportunity of ultimate rockstar happiness? Check!
• Dos' knee surgically repaired and healing beautifully? Check!
• Back on track and eating clean? Check! (YES! Finally! Yay! It feels sooooo good!)
• Writing daily, working on new ideas? Check!
• New fitness venture, enabling me to motivate myself and thousands of others -- while working with the inspirational fitness diva from The Sweaty Betties? Check!
• Ability to bring people along with me on this unbelievably fabulous fitness adventure? Check, check, and uber-check!

And there are other blessings as well -- too many to list, too many heart-happy moments, too many smiles, too much joy to keep all to myself.

Loving life, my friends. And there's still more to come!

Going Primal

I just finished reading The Primal Blueprint by Mark Sisson.  I read the first few chapters out loud to The Husband, since we were driving down the road and I wanted someone to share the information and discuss it with me.

I love reading this way, plunging through a few paragraphs, stopping to throw out a comment, reflect, ask questions, discuss connections.  Reading PB was transformative for me, but I think perhaps not for the same reason as most people.  Maybe I’m wrong.  You tell me.

Here’s what I learned, as a brief incredibly long and rambling timeline:

January 2007

Thrown into nutritional reform due to my mother’s midnight Emergency Room visit (which resulted in a diagnosis of diverticulitis).  I swore off everything fried, fatty, and fast, dropping my nightly Ben & Jerry’s pint for more veggies and fruit.  Although I was overweight at the time, my main concern was changing my horrible habits so that I would still be around when I had grandchildren and actually be healthy enough to enjoy them.

I searched the aisles at Barnes & Noble until I came up with a heart-healthy cookbook that would help me reach my goal of less processed food prepared quickly for a hungry family.

I joined the local Y, and dropped in every day on my way home from student teaching, spending 30-45 minutes either walking or slowly jogging.  The weight machines were curious, elusive aliens that I watched but never approached.

June 2007

In only six months, I had dropped 70 pounds.  I walked for graduation at a happy 150, smaller than I had been in high school.  I had moved from daily walks to running 2-3 times a week.  Even when we went out with friends, I opted for lean meats and veggies.  I loved the way I ate; I no longer felt tied to calories or the scale.

August 2007

My first teaching job begins.  I learn quickly how difficult it is to maintain a healthy lifestyle when surrounded by doughnuts at staff meetings, chocolates during training, and baked goods from parents.

January 2008

At 165, I seek out a personal trainer to help me learn my way around a weight room.  I’m petrified about lapsing back into a life of unhealthy eating and a scale that reads 220 or higher.  For the next six months I meet with my trainer 2-3 times a week to lift hard, do minimal cardio bursts, and sprint through the parking lot dragging her along behind me.  I give up running; cardio is boring once I discover the fun of my new circuits.

June 2008
I am a lean, mean, muscled machine.  I feel strong, healthy, more vibrant than I can ever remember.

Summer 2008 in a Nutshell

Although I made huge physical strides in 2008, and felt better about myself than I had throughout my life, I suffered a huge hit on a personal/family level, which I allowed to tear me down.  This was my fault -- not the problem, but my intense reaction to it.

I spent the summer in a daze, hurt and depressed.  I abandoned workout out, rarely ate any of the fortifying meals I had become so accustomed to; in fact I rarely ate anything. (At first.  Then came the tsunami of food.)

December 2008

By the end of the year, I managed to pull myself back together, but the damage was done.  I was out of my routine and lacked the willpower to get myself back in the gym.  I was still fairly close to the same body shape and weight from earlier in the year, and I think I let that safety net become a guise for my new lackluster desire for optimum health.

Summer 2009

Back to my old habits.  Fast food, soda, lying to myself.  “Everything in moderation is okay,” I told myself.  At 170 pounds and  too financially strapped to head back to my personal trainer, I decided to make changes on my own.  My thoughts were completely different from my original 2007 desire for health, however.  I missed the image in the mirror.  I missed how 
I felt when I was lean.  Let’s face it, I missed feeling sexy.  With a roll of fat popping out of my skinny jeans, I was angry with myself.

The pictures I had taken along my journey haunted me.  Flat belly, strong biceps, lean legs.  I wanted it back, and I wanted it FAST.

The focus was not on heart-healthy nutritious foods anymore.  I needed minimal calories, high protein for muscle building, low fat, low carbs.  I needed immediate results.

I was back in the gym, walking or running or climbing for one or two hours at a time.

I was back in the gym, lifting weights, when I wasn’t online researching methods to build muscle and drop fat as quickly as possible.

Oddly, with all my sprints and long runs and heavy lifting and minimal food -- nothing changed.

Well, nothing changed quickly enough for me.  I dropped about 10 pounds (mostly water I’m sure) and toned out a little, but mostly all I ended up with was an insane hunger for more food, and frustration over my slow results.

In the months that followed, this became my pattern.

Work my butt off, starve myself with packaged “foods”, get discouraged and binge.

Honestly, you’d think I just plain became an idiot during that time period.  I already knew what worked -- I’d done it before!  


But I was so hellbent on quick answers that I kept chasing my tail.  Never getting any closer to my goal, always getting further away from a healthy self image.

February 2010

I discover Lyle McDonald’s Rapid Fat Loss plan.  Less than 20 grams of fat and carbs a day, lots of protein, and forums full of people (mostly men) proclaiming oodles of weight loss.  The problem?  They complain of dizziness, nausea, low energy levels, and random digestive issues.

No matter, I can totally do this, I think.  And I do.  Egg whites, tuna, veggies -- no fruit, no nuts (which I miss terribly) -- but for 4 weeks I manage to feast on mostly protein.  I drop 12 pounds, look leaner, and actually feel pretty amazing.  Lots of energy and mental clarity.  I wish I could eat little to no carbs all the time, but Lyle’s book talks about glucose and your brain and metabolism issues -- and honestly, after a while I just get sick of tuna.  And eggs.  And turkey.

Off for another round of yo-yo’ing.  

June 2010

I read Born to Run by Christopher McDougall.  I remember my original love for running, learn a lot about tribal nutrition, barefoot running, and survival.  Something in the back of my mind begins to click into place.


July 2010
I’ve been following the blog Diary of a Modern Matriarch  for a while, but she started a new blog, Primal Matriarch.  It’s all about “eating primal”.  I’m digging the recipes she shares, and the abundance of fruits and veggies she talks about.

I email her, and she tells me about PB by Mark Sisson.  Lots of veggies, fruits, nuts, meat, eggs ... and the list goes on.  All the foods I love. (It reminds me of the Rapid Fat Loss Plan, but doesn’t swear off all the delicious fruits and nuts and dairy that I crave)

As I read the book I’m talking with The Husband about this horrible merry-go-round I’ve placed myself on.

All in the name of the perfect body.  Beauty.  An image.

Yeah, it makes me sick too.  

We talk about how when I originally lost 100 pounds it had nothing to do with how I looked, and everything to do with how I felt, and how I wanted to feel in 30, 40, 50 years.

PB reminded me that what matters most to me is not how cute I look in a bikini, but how much time I’ll be able to spend running down the beach with my grandkids when I’m all wrinkled with time.

It reminded me that when I was able to lose weight and get healthy I was NOT eating processed junk.  I was enjoying real foods: foods rich in color and taste, that grew out of the ground, could be eaten raw, and didn’t require an expiration date for me to know if they were okay to eat or not.

It reminded me that when I enjoyed working out I was lifting heavy, playing around with cardio, and sprinting once in a while.  I was doing these things in short sessions, a few times a week.  Not every day; not for hours at a time.

It reminded me that the way it all started for me -- nothing fatty, fast, or fried was exactly what I needed; what I should have returned to instead of banging my head against the pantry door looking for answers that don’t exist.

I have come full circle.  The way I originally became healthy was by having a true desire for health, no matter how long it took.  I looked for foods that would strengthen my heart, deter cancer, lessen the risk for various diseases.

When I lost my way, I tried to find every shortcut home possible.

I learned there are no shortcuts.

I’ve been eating primal for three days now.  I feel stronger, less bloated, and proud of my choices.  Sure, I’m giving up grain, but I feel I’m getting a lot in return.  No more calorie obsession.  No more starving myself.  No more praying for a quick fix.

This is the only body I have to work with.  I’m worth more than a constant, frustrating hunt for a shortcut that doesn’t exist.  

I’m worth more than always wanting a body that is only seen in airbrushed magazine ads of 14 year old girls.

I’m worth a lifetime of healthy eating, playing in the sun, enjoying myself and my family.

A different sort of Valentine

"Happy Valentine's Day!" we shout to the kiddos, tossing heart shaped boxes filled with chocolates and other sugar-laden tidbits into their eager hands.

The morning is filled with chocolate, chocolate, and oh, let's see, what else was there?  Yes, yes, that's right -- chocolate!  The husband is alternating swigs from his Monster (yep, that's right, I totally put a Monster in his bag 'o goodies!) and tossing whole Ferrero Rocher candies (worst.candy.ever.) into his happy mouth.  The littles are busy giggling and trading candy Toy Story figures and chocolate Tinkerbell crisps.  The bigs are, of course, snarfling down their own stash, grumbling with a mock-alpha dog growl whenever anyone comes to close.  It's a happy day.

Oh, but wait, as if the chocolate-drenched chocolatelyness of the day wasn't enough, the kids then decided to have a pizza making hoedown in the kitchen, so the house now smells of delicious cheese and bread.

Chocolate.  Cheese.  Bread.  The air is saturated with the savory sweetness of the day.

And what am I eating, you may ask?  Oh, you know, turkey breast... egg whites... protein powder... the usual.

Honestly.  I deserve a freaking purple heart of foodie will power.

Whatever.  I'm going to go brew some chocolate tea and pretend it's hot cocoa.  Better yet, I may throw it in the face of any of the chocolate-dazed coma-drooling fools in my house.

Happy Valentine's Day, dear reader.  Enjoy some chocolate for me.  Then send me haiku about how awesome it was.  Perhaps I'll send you some chocolate tea, too.

Nutrition is my Cheshire Cat

Would that I were wise enough to wander though the maze of macronutrients, carb cycling, and cutting phases, this post would not even be necessary. I do, however, need to remember what I have in my arsenal of nutri-knowledge, before tumbling into the deep end and never returning...

In 2007, my mom was down for a visit.  We ended up in the ER one morning because she was in severe pain that refused to be soothed, topped of with bleeding from places one should never --I repeat never-- be bleeding from.  10 hours of sitting with a parent in a hospital room with little communication to the outside world can do a lot to a person.  My mom, lover of all foods fried, fatty, and fast, has never been a bastion of health.  I sat watching her doze, wondering what it would be like for my own children to sit with me, having no idea what was happening, no idea what was to come.  Ten hours of wondering and worrying, as I am prone to do, and the result ended up being rather simple.  One, she was diagnosed with diverticulitis and given a fairly strict diet to keep future episodes from occurring.  Two, I decided that I never wanted my own children to fret over me all because I happened to also have a ridiculous obsession with all things fried, fatty, and fast.

At the time, I topped the scales at nearly 220, enjoyed a nightly pint of Ben & Jerry's Phish Food, and hid the evidence of my daily McDonald's trips in ways that included stopping at gas stations along the way home to toss the remains of my salty, fat-laden day.  Fairly embarrassing to admit, hugely devastating to live.

Immediately following the ER visit and my mother's return to Illinois, I literally ransacked my home -- all the temptations -- cookies, chips, ice cream --oh the lovely ice cream-- went in the trash.  These were replaced, after hours of googling and researching and book reading, with real food.  A concept I had never truly considered.  So gone were the days of processed meals and in came a life lived for quite a while from my Heart Healthy Meals in Minutes cookbooks.  My children wrinkled their little noses at the vegetables, lean meats, and startling lack of carbs in our new meals.  My family grimaced when I measured and counted and scrutinized every bite that went in my mouth.

I was on a mission.  I was not going to be 50 and unable to play with my grandchildren or enjoy the latter half of my life, resigned to sit on a sofa with a Diet Coke and a remote control.

So I was at the gym, doing the only thing I knew to do at the time.  I ran.  First, I ran for 30 seconds.  Then a minute.  Two.  Five.  Ten.  A silent mantra played in my head the entire time, "I am victorious.  A winner.  A princess, royalty.  Undefeated, unstoppable, I am a warrior."  And on and on it went, my music rattling through my brain as I forced myself to keep going, keep going, until there was just nothing left for me to give.

And I continued my nutrition research, eventually giving up the sugar free pudding and South Beach cookies that I had substituted for the delicious carbs I loved so much, and leaning to add in some protein powder here, some extra veggies there.

Six months later, I had dropped 60 pounds.  I weighed less than I had in high school, felt better than I could ever remember, and had more confidence that I knew what to do with.

And still, I continued to dabble with nutrition, trying to find the truly healthy foods.  Surely the holy grail of all that is good for you was out there somewhere.

Happy with my weight loss, but not exactly thrilled with the sagging flesh left in its wake, I sought out a personal trainer and was introduced to my new love -- weight training.  I threw out cardio, tired of running, running, always with the running, and spent my time grunting and groaning and sweating until I was deliriously dizzy and muscles were forming where I had never seen them before and I for the first time ever thought

I am an athlete.

It was a truly miraculous event.  I loved how strong I was, loved how far I could push myself, loved watching my form in the mirror as lifted more and heaver each month.  It was intoxicating.

Time can be a tragic thing, and upon reaching the height of my fitness regime, I also hit the low of my previous marriage.  It was as if life was being sucked away from me, and I spun out of control for about 6 months.  No care for nutrition, no desire for workouts, just a 24/7 path of self-destruction that I get sick when I spend to much thinking about now.

Fast forward a year and a half, and I'm finally in a place where everything is emotionally back in place and I'm ready to take care of my physical self again.  So I'm back in the gym, back on the right path nutritionally, but still irritated as hell whenever I read up on the best macronutrients and the proper calorie intake and everything in between.

I get that we're all different, and there is no perfect number that magically works for everyone.  But can I tell you something?  I really wish there was!  I like rules, I like systems, I like lists.  I like everything to fit into a neat little container that is easily sorted.  Nutrition is not The Container Store.  It's not neat and tidy, not easily navigated.  It's hunt and peck, baby, try a little of this, work on a little of that, throw in a pinch of luck, and you find the perfect balance for a rock hard body.

But for a worrier like me?  I'm constantly wondering if my calories are too low, or God forbid, too high. Did I eat enough protein for maximum muscle building?  Am I eating carbs too late in the day?  Would I be better off cycling carbs?  Is my metabolism screwed for life due to my insane inability to stick with it, dammit?

You see the problem.

Whenever I get like this, I have to put myself back in that hospital room with my mom, remembering the whole point of it all is health, Kelly, and nothing more.  Yes, I want rock hard abs, and yes, I have competition dreams, but in the end, if all I ever do is add years to my life and the ability to enjoy my children and my children's children, shouldn't that be enough?

Yes.  And sometimes... sometimes, sometimes, I can remember that, and breathe.