Health | BulgingButtons

November 28, 2014
by BulgingButtons 2 Comments

Leftover Words: Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

The following is my attempt at today’s daily prompt: Today, publish a post based on unused material from a previous piece –a paragraph you nixed, a link you didn’t include, a photo you decided not to use.

Why Can’t I Hear My Body?

This eat the right thing and get enough sleep and make sure to move my body thing just hasn’t been working out recently. I could give you all the reasons, but honestly, it will just sound like a list of excuses, so I’ll spare you the details and just skip it.

This, of course, has been an ongoing battle for me. Sometimes things click and I do well, and other times I slip into my old bad habits and any progress toward improving my health habits quickly disappears. It’s frustrating, especially since it’s purely my choices that derail me.

I had a conversation several months ago with a yoga instructor about some of these struggles (as we were enjoying our cocktails and hors d’oevres). She has worked with all sorts of people over the years, with all sorts of body types and issues. She is also human, and has had her own struggles over the years. She has changed her diet more than once, and her advice to me was, “listen to your body.”

It sounded like good advice. Our bodies, after all, are incredible. They do so much for us, and they constantly make tiny adjustments without us even thinking about it. The whole keeping the heart beating and keeping the lungs breathing routine is awe-inspiring. The body is no dummy, so it makes sense to try to listen to it. I’m okay with this idea. In fact, I kind of like the thought.

The problem, however, is that my body and I don’t seem to speak the same language. I have no idea what it’s saying much of the time. I confuse fatigue with hunger, and I often allow myself to get to the point where I’m completely parched, or the opposite, my bladder feels as though it might explode. How come I don’t take care of these things earlier? I just don’t really seem to notice or understand the signals that my body gives. Either that, or my body gives me the wrong signals.

That was certainly the case during my pregnancy. I had no idea I was pregnant for several months. Why? Because to me it appeared that my cycle was functioning as normal. I saw no change in the monthly rhythm, even though I was pregnant. How am I supposed to listen to a body that doesn’t even give me a clue that it’s pregnant? Oh sure, I began to look a little thicker around the middle, but I’m a big girl, and putting on a few pounds with the arrival of cooler weather didn’t raise an eyebrow. In retrospect I should have noticed some movement, but I had never been pregnant before and put it down to some kind of digestive upset.

I used to mock those people who didn’t know they were pregnant. How could they be so stupid? Well, I’m not stupid, but it wasn’t until late December that I suspected I might be expecting, and got the confirmation. I was given a due date in August, but in a subsequent appointment the doctor shook his head and told me I was much further along than that. An ultrasound was ordered on the spot, and my due date was moved up to April. Junior arrived on April Fool’s Day weighing in at a healthy eight pounds. Perfect timing. I was six months pregnant before I even knew I was having a baby. And this is the body I’m supposed to listen to?

So yes, I try to pay attention, but it’s difficult when we don’t seem to speak the same language. I know there are certain things that will benefit my body regardless of the signs or signals I might miss. Good food and exercise will always be helpful, so I’ll keep on trying, even if I have no idea what my body is actually saying to me.

November 26, 2014
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How Close Are You to Your Food?

With Thanksgiving approaching and my trips to the grocery store increasing, I’ve been thinking about how connected we are (or aren’t) to our food.

In my Facebook feed I have friends from many different stages of my life, and those people form an interesting patchwork. Some are highly educated, others are not, some are quite politically conservative, others are extremely liberal. I have friends of different faiths, and friends who don’t indentify themselves as any faith at all. There are young and old and in between, gay and straight and who knows what else, and a variety of ethnicities represented in my daily feed, and I respect and care about all of them. They are my community. They are my tribe.

In a group that diverse, it’s no surprise that there are differing points of view on just about everything, right down to the way we nourish our bodies. After all, isn’t that what food boils down to? Simply put, it’s our fuel.

I heard a random statistic on the radio that stated that 91% of Americans will eat turkey on Thanksgiving. Naturally that means that 9% won’t. Immediately I thought about vegetarians, and figured they were most of the 9%, but then I rethought it. I’m sure there are those with health issues that prevent them from eating turkey, and I’m also sure that there are plenty of people without the means to provide a turkey. My conception of the 9% expanded greatly with just a moment’s reflection.

Then, as I thought more about Thanksgiving dinner, I considered the various food related posts I see everyday on Facebook. I have friends who are masterful chefs (including those who are actually paid for that talent) and others who rely on fast food more than anyone really ought to. There are those who shop in gourmet markets, and those who grow some or most of their own produce. And of course, there are the lucky ones who have the privilege of shopping at Wegman’s, but that’s a post for another day.

I wondered if there were reasons why some people seem to be so intimately linked to the foods they eat and others seem to have so much distance from them. I mean, if I hunted my own meat I would be extremely aware of where it came from, but if I buy it at the grocery store I don’t give it as much thought, and if it comes served to me in a restaurant I’ve even more disconnected from the source. I think that each step away from the source that we take, the more tenuous our connection becomes to our food.

I also think that if I were in charge of providing my own food I wouldn’t eat so much or be so taste driven. If I had to grow or kill everything I put in my mouth I would pause before eating my whole supply. I would have been one skinny pilgrim. I would also choke down foods that I currently dislike, rather than go hungry. Like my Weight Watchers leader says, if a can of green beans will fix it, you’re truly hungry. I would be munching on kale and cabbage, nibbling cauliflower and cucumbers. Veggies would be my friends.

As things stand, I have to remind myself to eat fresh produce, and I have to battle the urge to fill my mouth and belly with processed foods that I know hold no nutritional value for me. I’m trying to simplify my life, and I think I need to start with my food.

November 23, 2014
by BulgingButtons 2 Comments

Damn You, Holiday Oreo Cookies

Last week I went back to Weight Watchers, for the who-knows-how-many-ith time. All week I’ve done fairly well with my food choices, with just a bit of slipping up here and there. The truth is, old habits are very hard to break. Still, I was feeling pretty good about my choices until just a few minutes ago.

That’s when they got me. Those damn, damn Oreos.

I should have thrown them out when I went back to Weight Watchers, but I figured someone else would eat them. Nobody did. They sat untouched for nearly a week, until tonight.

Tonight’s dinner was uninspired. I stir-fried a bag of vegetables and added in some white meat chicken. It was fabulously simple, and it took almost no time to do (the chicken was already cooked). The sauce that came with the vegetables was good, and the meal looked and smelled delicious. The flavor, however, just wasn’t quite there. Maybe it was the chicken, I don’t know. It just didn’t quite taste as good as it seemed like it should have. Still, I ate my veggies and felt pretty good about my meal. For about five minutes.

Then I went looking for something else, something to finish off the meal. I opened the pantry, and there they were. I reasoned that my dinner was ultra-healthful so why not have some? Well, because I’m no good at “some.” Several cookies later, they were gone. So is any progress toward weight loss that I may have made this week. That’s not good, since Thanksgiving is coming up quickly. Oh well, Oreos happen. I have to just move on, and keep those damn, damn Oreos out of my house.