invisible crown

Emmie got me thinking this morning about what will really work best to get me and my body and mind to a place where we all feel good, energetic, and at our best. I’m definitely headed in the right direction, but I’m still struggling a lot, and it’s time to look for ways to help myself move forward. Progress is good. It’s healthy. It helps me stay positive and on track.

So, this morning, as I read through the post, I had a bit of an epiphany. I have been coming at intuitive eating from the standpoint that it must be in the moment, immediate, instantaneous food choices or I won’t truly be honoring my body. But here’s the thing. For the most part, after years of, well, eating, I know quite a bit about how my body responds to most foods. I’m learning that intuitive eating isn’t so much about what I feel like eating at a given moment, but about what response it will provoke in my body. Armed with a fairly well stocked encyclopedia of how my body responds to certain foods, I totally CAN plan ahead.

I’m stealing Emmie’s category headers, because each one provoked a response for me, and I want to talk about them.

Adjust your schedule: I really fall down on this one. Emmie points out that while we think the hardest part of a workout is the workout itself, I’ve noticed that getting there, getting up from my desk, making the time… THAT is my struggle. So I’m going to start scheduling my workouts again. I’ve made a spot in my work calendar for lunch/gym breaks, so now I need to plan specifically what will happen for those breaks. I know I’ll need to be flexible, and I’m ready for that. For sure, my workouts will now include one Pilates session, one yoga session, and one long walk every week, along with some more consistent strength training. And god, as I type that out I realize how amazing that sounds to me. Just the thought of that workout schedule makes me excited, makes my heart all aflutter. E voila, intuition…

Adjust your sleep: Under no circumstances do I get enough sleep. I’m always tired, and it’s not helping. It makes motivation harder to come by, and it makes it easier to eat foods that don’t feel good.

Adjust your stress: This one is super tough for me, since I honestly believe most of my stress comes from outside. However, I can practically hear Karen in my head, reminding me that it’s all about how I process that outside influence, whether or not I allow it to stress me out. So I’m working on slowing down in general, taking things in stride, and making plans to cope with stress. I’m also trying to intentionally add more yoga/Pilates into my schedule, which will help with stress levels for sure.

Adjust your shopping: Aaron and I just talked about this last night. I wanted to get back to cleaner eating, and I had a plan to do so, but (frankly) i ignored the plan because I was concerned about the extra costs. After talking to Aaron, we realized we’re actually eating a lot of processed foods right now, and that portion for portion they’re definitely more expensive, and less satisfying as well.

Adjust your family: This one is easier for me. Emmie says to cut back on the eating out. We eat out once a week, maximum, and we nearly always go somewhere like Panera where healthier choices are easier. Our snacks at home are incredibly healthy since Evi picks them out and leans toward healthy stuff naturally. Still, I’ll work to be more mindful.

Adjust your mind: This is a BIG one for me. I’m not sure, but I think it is going to mean a return to more regular blogging. I most certainly can’t afford therapy, so this is a pretty great substitute for me. I have to be vigilant about really thinking through what’s going on in my head. I have to be honest with myself, and with this blog. It’s a long process, but I’m ready for it. I’m also going to start trying a little harder with my fashion. I’ve fallen into a rut, telling myself it’s about ease and comfort, that doesn’t make me feel good about the way I look. I have some decent stuff, so it’s time to take a little more pride in myself.

Adjust your body: I’ve had more than my fair share of testing done lately, so I think I’m in pretty good shape in terms of understanding where my body currently is. What I need to do now is focus on keeping it that way. I need to be paying careful attention to my pain levels, to my stretches and strength building exercises, and to progress markers, no matter how small.

It’s weird to realize I’ve been doing everything in a totally unhelpful way for SO long. The process of getting to a good place is so long, so all encompassing. I have to change nearly everything. I’m feeling a little bit overwhelmed, but surprisingly energized as well.
Thanks, Emmie. I needed this sort of reflection today.
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First of all, Aaron is stressed out to the max so he’s having a hard time right now, which means we stayed up late talking. It was good for both of us, but left me extra tired.

So  yesterday my pt appointment was supposed to be a half hour and ended up taking over an hour because they double booked all the patients to make up for a therapist who called out. I was frustrated because they should have called me in advance and they didn’t. I said as much, and the therapist offered me a free session if I could come in early this morning. So I got up really, really early and came in this morning.

She asked me to bring my running shoes so she could check for abnormal wear. (None) When I got there, she asked me to run. I told her I wasn’t ready to because of the pain. She insisted, because she needed to “rule out mechanical issues.” And I, being occasionally terrible at self-advocating, did it anyway… Because she’s a “doctor.”

The result was that my legs locked up entirely, and only a very well placed and quite large lab tech saved me from face-planting on the treadmill. They had to have the massage therapist come see me just to get me to the point where I could put any weight on my legs again.

“Fortunately” I had some leftover pain meds from when I hurt my neck, and that’s how I’m at work today at all.

I’m furious. I complained to my therapist, who apologized but mostly blamed circumstances. (So busy, understaffed, etc) I complained to the practice manager, and to my insurance as well, and I cancelled all of my appointments coming up.

Today I’m going to message my Pilates instructor friend, and then I’ll also reach out about a strength program. I’m done with the pt. I’m going to try going with just Pilates and strength for a few weeks to see how it feels. On the way out, another therapist at the practice did talk to me briefly and said he thought pilates could be enough.

Their understanding, and mine too from lots of reading, is that my issues are just the way I’m built. The pain would have happened regardless, although running significantly irritated/encouraged it. Unless I can completely change the length and form of my stride, I won’t run again ever.

Pilates will definitely help me with mental center and balance. The best thing I can do is to super strengthen my lower core: glutes, hips, low/side abs. Doing that will take the pressure off by pulling things up and away from the problem areas, and decreasing pressure on my sciatic nervce. And Pilates will do a lot of that. Paired with a good strength training and walks, I think I’ll be in good shape sooner rather than later.

And, can I just admit how excited I am to be forced to take it slow so that I can go back to going on walks just because I like to, instead of always thinking of the larger fitness goals? It’s just so nice to have to step back and remember the reasons I WANT to move my body, the reasons I LOVE to move my body, removed from all of the motivations that came later – the weight loss, fitness, inches, competition, miles racked up… And I think about how I’d always be reading Carla’s blog about just working movement into every day, and I’d want that SO MUCH, but I’d convince myself it wasn’t for me. I was too fat to be able to do things that way. I had to do something extreme to force change.

What a terrible, unloving way to think, right? I’m done with it. I’m slowing WAY WAY down. Slow down. Listen more. LOVE ME. We have to keep centering around that! Love for ourselves. I honestly believe that if we can keep circling the wagons around continuous self-love, everything else will just… happen.

I love myself.

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So…. I’ll be going to physical therapy once a week for the foreseeable future. It’s alright, much better than potential surgery, although that’s not entirely out of the question either.

I’m working hard on doing my assigned exercises every day, and trying to eat mindfully to make up for the lack of intentional cardio. I have the Warrior Dash this coming weekend, which I’m only allowed to do if I’m very good about my exercises. I’ll get the go ahead (or not) for sure this Wednesday.

I think I’m also going to be adding Pilates to my week, since it’s exactly what I need to get better.

Staying positive is tough when my body doesn’t work the way I’d like it to, but I’m fighting to remember that it’s doing it’s best, and I should too.

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As in The Impatient Cow. No? Nobody? Well, apparently I AM the impatient cow.

I’ve been fighting with myself way too much these days. Everything is a struggle. The exact same habits and mindsets that helped me lose the weight I dropped are suddenly the reasons I’m consistently making choices I’ll regret. While there have certainly been times I’ve thrown up my hands and stopped trying, this is the first time EVER that I’ve tried this hard and constantly struggled unless I was really struggling with some rough emotional stuff. So I started thinking about it, started trying to sniff out the issues.

And? Nothing. Sure I have stress. Yes I’m terrified about this potential leg issue. But the stress isn’t new, and the problem was happening before the foot/leg pain started. So… what the what?

Aaron has been maxed out on stress lately too, working half of most weekends and still not keeping up thanks to understaffing. We sat down to talk it out last night, and boom! Lightning bolt! Suddenly, I know what’s wrong.

We’re maxed out. Between the basic job stress and parenting and running the household and a long commute… we just have nothing left. Every “free” moment is spent grocery shopping, mowing the lawn, laundry, dishes, windows, car repairs… And it’s (perhaps not shockingly) wearing me down. I don’t get many chances to recharge.

I’m grateful for my job and thrilled that I still love it. I’m glad we have a safe place to live and enough resources to raise a healthy, happy little girl. But.., I need more. On a given day, I have about 2hrs of mental free time when I’m on the bus but not answering work emails. I think that time is keeping me sane, but I’m essentially immobile.

I have about 45 minutes of potential active time every day, but any time I miss work I worry about falling behind because my job is so important to me, so if I take a day off I’m unlikely to take a gym break for several days before and after.

The less I move, the more vindictive the my food choices become. The worse I eat, the worse I feel and the harder I have to fight to get out from under the guilt. I end up, as I am right now, trapped in this heavy fog of self judgement and guilt and sadness.

There’s nothing I can do about put schedule right now. We’re working as beat we can on moving to somewhere that would significantly decrease my commute and not lengthen Aaron’s, but that is an expensive and lengthy process.

But I’m not powerless. I DO have choices. I can decide how this effects me instead of just letting it happen to me. Björg and I can choose where the feelings take us.

And therein lies the impatience. I honestly believe my attempts at I tuition eating were working…. or they would have I’d is been more patient. If I’d been willing to sit in my own head longer, work to really understand my mind/body connection better, I think I would have been on the right track.

And tracking? So not working. If you look at my food diary since I went back to tracking (please don’t) it’s totally ridiculous. It painfully showcases someone who’s at best not listening and at worst medicating with food. It’s bad for my head and worse for my heart. No more. It’s time to put in the work.

And that’s the crux of it. Intuitive eating takes work. I’ve spent too many years restricting calories, moralizing food, and guilt tripping my body… it won’t be as easy and natural as “intuitive” suggests because I have no damn clue how to listen to my body. But I was getting there and it’s time I commit to doing it for real.

So what’s the plan? MORE YOGA!!! More hiking, when I get the all clear to do so. More soul lifting forms of movement. And food? I thought long and hard about what really makes me happy, and the answer hit me in the face… literally. I was cleaning up my bookshelf, and one of my favorite healthy books (despite the stupid title) fell off.

Mediterranean Women…

So I’m aiming for a return to the Mediterranean diet that makes me happy. It’s clean, it’s delicious. It’s easy. It’s not cheap, but it’s worth it.

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So… numbness + pain = a trip to the doctor. Which turned into a referral to an orthopedist. Which became a reasonable chance of a weird and vaguely worrisome diagnosis fixed only by surgery.

It’s not official. I’m awaiting some painful tests for confirmation. So… that’s where my head’s at. In the meantime, no impact exercises, very little cardio. I’m trying to focus on very careful eating, since the less I weigh, the easier this potential recovery period will be.

So… happy Monday?

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I’m still struggling. I get up every day and declare it the day I get back to better choices. Most days I’m not entirely successful, but I’m calling it success that I’m still trying.

My body hurts. A visit to the doc today led me to a referral for an orthopedist, who I see on Thursday morning. No answers yet, but no running and limited walking for a while. Maybe surgery, maybe not. I’m not thinking about it much until I have more answers.

I’m carrying a little booklet of inspirational pics around with me. It feels silly, but they do help sometimes. I’m also trying to reach out more, which is why I’m blogging right now. I feel like hiding, and I know that’s not going to help anything… so here I am.

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You. You were born five minutes ago. Five seconds ago.

Okay, it was actually two hours ago… FOUR YEARS AGO.

Where did the time go? Man, I really like you. I mean really, really like you! I knew I’d love you. I loved you from the first smudgy blip on an ultrasound screen. I loved you from the first pink line. I can’t imagine not loving you.

But I never knew, could never have expected, how much I’d LIKE you. You’re awesome. You’re funny. We have actual conversations. Sometimes they’re about the merits of pink or whether girls can be superheroes. Sometimes we talk about how car engines work, why dinosaurs are so big, or what inchworms eat. The way you see the world is beautiful, incredible, amazing.

You’ve amazed me from the very first second of your life. I was scared. What if you didn’t make it? What if I never heard your cry or held your hand? But there you were, real and warm and perfect. You took it so easy on me from moment one, never once making life as a new mom tough. You slept long and hard. You ate like a champ, until you got sick.

Man… I will never, ever forget that. You were SO sick. I will never forget the way you looked at your sickest, your worst, your most frightening. And then the surgery happened, and like magic you were back to happy, healthy, round, and perfect.

And then, despite never asking my permission, you were one. You were crawling and cruising and trying to hard to walk. You said daddy and puppy and mommy. You signed ball and more and hungry and thirsty. You ate everything you could get your hands on, loving pizza and Indian food. You chewed on Sophie the Giraffe nonstop, slept like a champion, and loved flipping through books over and over again.

You made animal sounds. You made me laugh and smile and cry and hope. You made me want to be the strongest, best, wisest mommy in the world. You made me want to live healthier, stay happier, be the best me EVER. You made my heart smile and my soul dance.

And little girl, you still do. Every day. You are all I’ll ever need from the world. You keep me whole. You slow me down. You remind me what’s really important when I lose sight.

As you get older, you just get cooler and cooler. Every new day is exciting and awesome and wonderful. Sometimes I feel a little sad about the phase that’s passing, but then every new time brings some new incredible part of you to the forefront and I don’t have time to miss what’s gone. I have to stay on my toes with you so I don’t miss a moment of your perfect, incredible mind.

One was a good birthday. We went to the zoo. You might not have understood why we were there, but you really liked the outdoors and you made a proper mess with a homemade cupcake. You laughed and smiled all day, passed out for a well-earned afternoon nap, and woke up in your usual state of amused enjoyment of life.

And then, all of a sudden, you were done being one. Suddenly, without a moment’s notice, you were two.

TWO! You were walking and talking and thinking and playing. You were still laughing and smiling and cuddling and hoping. You developed a still raging love of dinosaurs and all thing spacey. Planets? Volcanoes? Weather patterns? YES! Robots? YES! Frilly dresses? YES!

Full of intricacies and seeming contradictions already. We tried so hard to make sure you knew nothing was off limits to you. No “boy” and “girl” toys or activities for you! Just what you like and what you don’t.

And that smile. It lights up your eyes every time, and there is nothing I like to see more. Kid. I hope you know how thoroughly smitted with you I am. I hope you can feel how devoted your Daddy is. That man would move the Earth for you. I think he’s having an especially fun time watching you grow. He loves your boundless curiosity.

Two was the year you potty trained yourself in a week. Not because of our encouragement or anything else. You’d just decided you wanted to go to the special playplace at the mall, the one only for potty trained kids, so there it was. Seven days, and boom. You did it on your own.

You know, my inability to take credit for your awesomeness seems to be a continuing theme here. And I love every second of it.

Three? Yep. Three was next. Three. Thirty six incredible, life changing, inspiring months of a life that would never be the same.

You certainly haven’t let us get bored. Energy to the maximum, but the same sweet heart and cuddly spirit as ever. The same easy smile, the same kind eyes, the same commitment to spontaneous affection and care for others.

I couldn’t ask for a better kid if I tried. Really. There’s no one cooler. I loved every second of year three, even the occasional tantrum. You’re finding your way, and you’re still so kind most of the time I can hardly begrudge you the once-in-a-blue-moon burst of crazy pants crapitude. It happens to the best of us, and you, my precious girl, are truly the best of us.

Robots? Dinosaurs? Space? Still yes! Princesses? Ballerinas? Pink and purple? Yes! You’re the perfect kid. You love girly, frilly, sparkly and you request a Warrior Dash birthday party. You wear dresses and laugh when you get filthy. You adore your sparkly, light-up princess shoes and your Star Wars Angry Birds stuffed animals. You like Sophia the First and TinkerBox, science and art and music and books… man, we’re so thankful for the library.

Fifteen books every Saturday. Every Saturday. You read them all. Now you’re starting to read them yourself too, a little at a time, a word here and there. It’s so exciting to watch, because I’m a reader too, so I know what you’re getting into. Those books open whole new worlds, full of incredible ideas and awesome alternate realities.

And so here we are. You’re four today.

Four. You’re not a baby anymore. You’re not even a toddler anymore.

You’re my little big girl, my adventurous warrior princess. You thrill me every day. You make hard things easy, simplify the world, and give me permission to spend ten minutes watching an inchworm crawl. You make me laugh so hard I cry.

You’re moments away from reading. You can’t stop talking about the day you get to ride the school bus. You rode the bus to work with me the other day, and you were absolutely perfect for the entire two hour ride.

I know I lose my patience with you sometimes, and I’m sorry I do. I love you more than anything in this world, and I hope you know that I strive every day to be the best mommy I can be, the one you deserve.

Frankly? I think I’m doing just fine, if you’re any measure of my success.

Kid. We’re so proud of you. There is nothing cooler than watching the person you’ve become, that you continue to become every day. I’m so proud of your big heart, your gentle spirit, your avid and unstoppable questioning of the world around you.

I promise you I’ll always answer your questions, hold your hand, share my ice cream. I vow to never be too busy for snuggles, reading, games, or even tv time. YOU matter most.

Happy birthday, my sweet love.

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I struggled. I paid attention. I thought. I pondered.

I sweat. I worked. I huffed and puffed. I ran. I lifted.

I worried. I counted. I measured. I tracked.

I gained.

209.6 this morning. Highest in a while.

I cried.

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Today I ran for Boston. I ran alone. It was hard. It was 3/4 uphill. I was pushing and panting and smelly.

And I loved it. I felt bigger than myself, like I was a part of something that mattered. I felt like a runner.

I probably looked ridiculous, huffing up the hill with my homemade race bib, but I also looked jubilant. I smiled a lot. I had FUN.

And when I was done? I solidified my crazy by crying in front of the gym. I was so caught up in thinking about it all… about the running community, who has embraced me at every turn despite my slow pace and frequent lapses. I thought about the hope and spirit of marathon runners, about the bravery and strength of the first responders and incredible civilians who rushed to help, comfort, and save. I thought about he families and friends who mourned losses.

I thought about positive things too… about my own tenacity, the support of friends, how lucky I am to live a life bursting with love.

Maybe, just maybe, I get it now. Maybe all along the key to healthy choices is remembering how very much I’m not alone. None of us are. We belong to a family, by blood or blog.

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Run Cupcake Run

SUGAR: I’ve done a half decent job of maintaining less sugar. I’d say I’ve done it about half the days this month, which I’m proud of. I’m working on a full shift to consistently less sugar over time.

RUN: I ran a 5K on Sunday. I hadn’t run nearly as often and I’d intended leading up to the race, so I was pretty terrified. I met a few cool people while waiting, then managed to find a running busy around mile 2 who I crossed the finish line with. I really wanted to finish in less than 45 minutes, and I think I could have pushed a little harder… But when I crossed the finish line at 45:28 I get incredible so I’m trying not to care about my time.

I’m also wondering if I’ve developed a nerve issue. At about 2.5 miles today my feet started to get tingly and by the end the toes and bottoms of both feet were totally numb. I’ve had some numbness before on the bike or treadmill but never this much. It didn’t hurt and it went away as soon as I stopped running. I lace my shoes loosely and wear thin socks, so I don’t think it’s the shoes… I might see a sports med doc just to be sure I don’t have a nerve issue somehow.

FOOD: I left the race feeling awesome. I turned the post-race cupcake over to the kid because I just didn’t want it. I chose a really healthy and super satisfying lunch. I treated myself to my favorite chocolate candy. I walked a lot after the race. I came home, over-ate, followed that with ice cream and went to bed with a stomachache.

I’m feeling panicky about food and tracking and mindfulness. I’m gaining weight. I’m making bad food choices. I feel like NOT tracking my calories is better for my head overall, but I’m terrified of the damage that might be done while I’m learning how to be mindful. Aaron says if anything I’m MORE neurotic than before, talking constantly about not tracking (both positively and negatively) and acting much less peaceful overall.

 I’m starting to wonder if maybe I just want so badly for it to be “the answer” that I’m pretending it’s more peaceful, so much so that I’ve faked myself out. I think I’m going to go back to My Fitness Pal today and see how it goes for a week or two.
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