diet | 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.

August 15, 2014
by BulgingButtons 6 Comments

Caught in a Bear Trap

I had my physical the other day. Actually it was the post-physical appointment where the doctor went over all the test results with me. The physical itself was a huge undertaking with all sorts of procedures and exams and x-rays and more, including fasting bloodwork that wasn’t completed until late in the afternoon. It’s a wonder I didn’t faint.

The doctor started with the results of that bloodwork, and he was quite pleased. The iffy numbers from my last labs were replaced by excellent numbers this time around. I’m nowhere near diabetes either, which is cause for celebration. In fact, according to the labs I’m in great shape. Then we looked at the cardiovascular age that one of the fancy-schmancy machines calculated for me, and, (drum roll please), it concluded that my heart age is a good decade younger than my real age. Fantastic!

We went over several other tests, all good, then arrived at one the doctor didn’t like. It was a blood pressure test that was done on both arms, both thighs, both ankles, and both big toes. It was horribly painful, especially on my thighs. It felt more like a trip to the middle ages than modern medicine. As I waited for my bones to be crushed into dust I repeated over and over in my head, “this won’t last, this won’t last.” Thankfully I was right.

The doctor pointed out that one of the numbers from that test didn’t match the others. He told me that he didn’t like it because it was an indication of trouble. But what about the other tests? They were all good. Really good, in fact. Nope, he wasn’t having it. So much for my decade of leeway. He told me it didn’t count since I had this other thing going on. Phooey.

He gave me some directions to follow to get things under control, including once again reminding me that I need to lose a significant amount of weight. Naturally diet and exercise were discussed, and I get it, but I can’t help but feel cheated. Everything else was good. Really, it was. If we hadn’t done that one horrible test I would have walked out of there on cloud nine. I would have been the picture of health. Instead I was a time bomb. My words, not his. He is far more tactful than that. In spite of the doctor’s seriousness, I decided to push that little bit of negative news to the back of my brain and focus on the positive. I’m a positive person, after all.

I went home and told my sweetheart all the things the doctor and I discussed. I told him that I was going to focus on the positives, and that the doctor couldn’t just negate all of them with the results form that one additional test from hell. My sweetheart disagreed.

As always, he made his point briefly and clearly. He told me that it doesn’t matter how healthy you are otherwise when you’ve got your leg caught in a bear trap. Seriously? Damn. So my healthy lungs and my normal blood sugar and my perfect vitamin D level are all happy accidents. They’re nice, but once my leg is in that bear trap they become irrelevant. All efforts must be focused on escaping from the trap, and whether my vision is perfect or my skin is clear becomes way less important.

He’s right of course. He usually is. Now I not only have to keep all the good things good, but I have to work my way out of this most recent snafu. What a mess. Still, it can’t be ignored. After all, you can’t get far once you’re caught in a trap.

May 14, 2014
by BulgingButtons 10 Comments

Seven Days, Seven Pounds

I almost don’t want to write this, because I’m pretty sure it will jinx it, but my first week at Weight Watchers was a resounding success. One week in and I’m seven pounds down. Can I get a woot woot?

I know that wine and cheesecake really aren’t part of the program, so I’m not expecting week two to look quite as rosy. I also know that the first week typically has the greatest weight loss. Something about “water weight” whatever that is. I don’t even think it’s a real thing. I think my body is just in shock.

It’s in shock that multiple fruits and vegetables have crossed my lips over the past week. For normal people that isn’t odd, but for me, the queen of all things bad for one’s health, it’s kind of incredible. Over the past week I’ve eaten carrots, beans, onions, broccoli, spinach, lettuce, cucumbers, peppers, corn, potatoes, avocado, blueberries, apples, bananas, raisins, cranberries, and blackberries.

I’m impressed with myself. My fantasy list looks more like this: frappucino, pizza, double cheeseburger, wine, cupcakes, pop tarts, sour cream and onion ruffles, chocolate, Indian food, chili, and chicken wings.

I have to get that out of my system, both literally and figuratively. I don’t need those things, I just like them. I need to keep working on reprogramming my mind. The less garbage I eat the less I want it, and the more healthy food I eat, the more I enjoy it. For some reason I keep forgetting this fact. Whoever said old habits die hard hit the nail on the head.

I’m thrilled with my seven pound loss, but I’m more excited about moving in the direction of making choices that will ultimately help me live a fuller, healthier life. Seven pounds is nothing. Good health and feeling good is everything.