A Letter to My Sisters in the Midst of Their Quarter-Life Crises

fat-is-not-a-feeling

Dear Sisters, Here you are. Rock bottom. The almost-or-just-past-quarter-life crisis. The Millennial angst, the thwarted expectations of the American dream. You don’t own a house. You lease a car. You owe more to your school than you education was worth. … Continue reading

UN-Podcast 013: UNintentional

runners-legs

[SOURCE] You guys. Please, if you do nothing else today, GO LISTEN TO THE FINDING OUR HUNGER PODCAST.  Seriously. Episode 013 is just. so. good. We talked with my friend Andrea Feucht of andreaworks.com, and it was just such a fantastically organic, … Continue reading

Kenahora, or The Biggest Threat to Mother’s Day

ellen-bloome-crossfit

When I was 8 years old, I did something stupid. I said, out loud, “I’ve never broken a bone before.” Two weeks later, my dog veered to the right in the middle of an un-leashed race home from the end … Continue reading

Marketing Messages and the Ugly Truth(?)

dove-real-beauty-sketches

Before you read today’s post, go download Finding Our Hunger Un-Podcast Episode 006: UN-Lived and leave us a review in  iTunes! I’ve been having difficulty sitting down to write this post, probably because my day job involves sitting down to … Continue reading

Why Can’t I Stop Binge Eating? (Hint: Check Your Stress Levels)

yoga_at_work

Hey–FYI, triggers ahead. Read at your own risk.   I’m not a stranger to stress. In fact, if you know me, you know that’s a bit of an understatement. Type-A, overachieving, blah blah blah. You’ve heard it before. You’ve probably lived … Continue reading

Sex with ED, or Let Me Be Frank*

Muscular legs in heels

*Just a note for those of you who know my father, no, this has nothing to do with him or the Elektra complex. I’m talking about Eating Disorders, or ED for short, thankyouverymuch.     During my very expensive mistake … Continue reading

My Boy…Friend, ED

Playing Rizzo in Grease

I met ED, as you may or may not recall, on July 4, 2001. Just a few days before, a boy in my summer camp had declared that he “liked” me (a very strong proclamation to make at 13) and … Continue reading

Easier Said Than Done

I know that I’ve been incredibly positive, posting about my wins and making sure to tweet my gratitude daily…but I do have to admit that life after ED is not always rainbows and lollipops and warm puppy kisses. (Well, I do at least get to partake daily in the latter, but you catch my drift.)

 Kissing my puppy

I’ve been lucky to have had the whole summer to sit alone in my house and make peace with my disordered eating and my eating disorder; however, now that I’m back out in the world, forced to interact with real people and not just ancestral health podcasts and recovery blogs, I’m finding myself bombarded with disorder again. I don’t think people even realize how disordered their conversations are–even if they don’t actually have an eating disorder proper. But just because talking about calories and exercise and food and dieting is “normal,” doesn’t mean that it’s right.

I’ve really been struggling lately, because I’ve had no choice but to be back out in the world again, reading Facebook posts about feeling guilty for not exercising, in line at Starbucks listening to apologetic “I really shouldn’ts”, at work watching my friends check their Nike fuel, on Twitter reading HuffPost articles about calories out and super foods, in physical therapy at the gym watching women toil away on their treadmills, at rehearsal listening to my fellow actors worry about costumes feeling tighter than when we first tried them on…and it goes on.

On top of that, I often have to stop myself from even trying to explain my position on food and nutrition in public. People bristle when I try to explain that I’m eating low carb/high fat, or else they apologize for eating gluten/sugar in front of me (“I know it’s not healthy, but I can’t imagine life without it/but I only have one life to live and I don’t want to miss out on cake/but I know that saturated fat is bad for you, so I’m actually eating raw vegan on the weekends now and giving up soda every other Thursday…)

Maybe I’m just listening for it…but it seems like that’s all anyone knows how to talk about anymore.

Moreover, my physical therapist asked me to go back to the gym…to do cardio. At first I balked, but I eventually decided to compromise: I went back to do strength/rehab exercises. No cardio machines involved. I found myself finishing my workout quickly and then eyeing the cardio equipment, convinced that I hadn’t sweat enough yet. And I found myself trying to justify my desire to hop on the revolving stairs for an hour with the thought that my PT wanted me to do cardio. (Never mind the fact that he was talking about 30 minutes of non-impact exercise a few times a week.) But as soon as I neared the cardio section of the gym, I knew I had to stop myself.

Sometimes I think that going back to the gym period was as bad as asking an alcoholic to hang out at a bar. I could feel ED stirring.

Since I’ve spent the last two weeks at work and in rehearsal/in a show with barely a moment for breathing in between (especially since I got sick somewhere in there), I haven’t been able to work out at all. And even though I made it through the summer just fine, between the conversations about Thanksgiving calories and the reawakened gym rat in me, I’m struggling.

That being said, a little struggle is no reason to give up or give in. I’m just having to relearn how to be a part of this nutritionally backward culture, where we value the last box of Twinkies more than a life without diabetes or calorie counting.

 Save the Twinkie Political Cartoon

I’ve had to stop myself from getting involved in peoples’ conversations or offering my opinion. I’ve had to stop myself from getting upset when people start in on me about why they have to keep eating wheat or why they have to go to the gym for sixteen thousand more hours. I’ve had to stop myself from allowing other people’s disorders trigger my own.

I’ve realized that, just as I’ve resolved to meet myself where I am each day, I have to do the same for others.

I get it. Not everyone buys the “Paleo” thing. And I get that people are leery of going low carb and high fat. I get that hours on the stairmaster seems like a necessity. I get it, because I once was there. I get it, because I see and hear just how ingrained the message is. And just because I’m learning (and trying) to disavow that kind of thinking doesn’t mean that everyone else in the world is ready.

I accept that the world is full of disorder. I accept that I am responsible only for myself. I accept that I have to respect the body I’ve been given, and I have to honor my beliefs. And I believe that following a low carb/high fat Paleo diet is going to keep me from seeking ED in times of stress and vulnerability.

And just to explain: Paleo–or, rather, ancestral health, as I prefer to refer to it, since I’m more focused on just eating real food and not following a “diet”–is a lifestyle choice. It’s not a restrictive diet (can’t eat this or that, only so many calories, no cheating, etc.).* At the core of the Paleo movement is the belief that modern disease was born with the advent of agriculture, and that human beings are genetically better adapted to a pre-agricultural  hunter-gatherer diet. In overly simplified terms, going Paleo means not only cutting out all of the processed foods that have come to clutter our grocery store shelves, but also cutting out foods that the human body has difficulty processing for nutrients (or foods that actively poison the human body) like wheat, grains, legumes, and dairy.

 Paleo Cartoon Restrictive Eating

As soon as I wrote that, I could already hear you, my readership, flinching. Wait, you’re thinking, so you are cutting and restricting your food again? Looks like you’ve still got a lot of recovering to do

And to that, I counter:

I no longer think about the foods I can’t eat. I look forward, instead, to the foods I can. I eat meat, fish, eggs, fruit, and all the vegetables I want. And the best part is, Paleo really isn’t as simple as just cutting out foods and starving for “cheats” from the bakery section. In fact, that’s why I kind of shy away from the whole “Paleo” moniker, since it’s associated with certain limitations.

This past summer, while I’ve been trapped in my house, waiting to heal and go back to work, I’ve had the opportunity to do a little research about nutrition as well as the science behind food addiction and health. And the most important thing I’ve learned is that there is no one way of eating. The only “diet” you should follow is the one that works for you, and you alone. That means that if you can tolerate dairy, go for it. If nightshades make you sick, don’t eat them. If you were one of the lucky ones who developed the gene to produce more amylase** than your hunter-gatherer forefathers, have at those carbs and don’t look back.

And when you find the foods that work for you and cut back on the ones that don’t, you’ll start to free yourself from the ugly world of obsession and food addiction, calorie counting and processed foods.

Personally, because I’m not working out very hard (or moving very much at all), I’ve found that a low(er) carb approach works best for me. No, this isn’t Atkins, and I’m not going to die of a heart attack because I’m drinking heavy cream. I’m also not going low carb, low fat, and high protein, because that actually causes calorie restriction by necessity. I eat fat. A lot of it. Maybe not enough, but I’m not afraid of it anymore. And I often don’t measure my portions except with my eyes–nor do I worry about calorie counting.

And, while I’m not able to go out for a run, I’m in good “shape.” I am happy living in my body, because my body not only looks good and healthy, it feels good and healthy. And I’ve realized that’s even more important than the image in the mirror.

I have to just remember that what I’m doing is healthy, that I don’t need ED to be loved or respected, that a “perfect” body means I’ll have to live an imperfect life. I don’t need to binge on cereal for the same reasons that I don’t need to chain myself to the treadmill.

I will find balance. I will not look for excuses, and I will not give in to triggers.

It’s easier said than done, but just because something isn’t easy, doesn’t mean I can’t do it.

I’m going to keep my head up and do what’s right for me. Because I respect myself. I respect my values and beliefs. I respect this body I’ve been given. And it’s as simple as that.

– K.

*Although there are plenty of people who do it wrong, and it morphs into the same cycle of restriction and deprivation that leads to yo-yo dieting.

**An enzyme released in the mouth during the digestive process that helps break down starches.

Forgetting Fitspiration

A quick thought before I go back into the science and history of the calories in/calories out myth: 

 

My physical therapist wants me to start going to the gym again. And I am utterly terrified.

 

I know it’s silly, especially since I’m hoping to make a career of fitness and nutrition, but I can’t help it.

 

The gym has always been both a haven and a prison. It is where I saw some of my greatest triumphs and my hardest falls. It is where I learned to love my body and hate it, to gain muscle and lose my mind.

 

Yoga is one thing, but going back to the gym is definitely another.

 

I just find this very relevant now, as I start to understand the myths that fueled my ED and exercise bulimia–as I start to explore why calories in/calories out is a fallacy, and how obsession is fueled by the false advertising of the fitness and health industries.

 

I’m not sure how to reconcile the fact that my PT wants me to start doing 5 minutes of steady state cardio with my former impulses to do hours of the same. I’m not sure how to reconcile 3 sets of ten light-weight negative calf raises on the leg press with the desire to deadlift 100+ pounds on the first day.

 

Obsessed is a word the lazy use to describe the dedicated, fitspiration

So said the voices in my head. But sometimes, obsession is really just obsession.

I’m terrified of finding myself listening to the voices that once upon a time told me the lies that led to my pain.

 

That being said, I feel a little bit better about the fact that I know that the voices tell lies. That I know that ED is always going to be waiting for me to start listening again. That I know how to tune the voices out–that I want to tune them out.

 

It’s funny: I was listening to the most recent Paleo Solution Podcast, and someone wrote in with a question regarding the Health at Every Size movement. It seemed strange–Robb Wolf, of The Paleo Solution Diet fame, is all about nutrition and strength training; HAES is more about body image and mental health/perspective. The question seemed out of place, being answered by a man who doesn’t struggle with an eating disorder and really hasn’t focused on Paleo or strength training as a method for coping with overweight or obesity in his own life. And something in the question stuck out at me: it was sent in by a personal trainer who noticed that the several of his overweight/overfat clients who had made significant gains in their health and vitality were the ones who were more likely to be upset when they didn’t see the same results reflected in belly or underarm fat.

 

What is so striking to me is that those people–people whose health has dramatically improved, whose lives have become infinitely better, whose chances at surviving to live a long and happy life have just increased–were unhappy because they aren’t physically “perfect” (whatever that word means).

 

All of that to say that I don’t understand why we spend so much time trying to equate health and fitness with aesthetic ideals.

 

I don’t understand–even though I’ve lived through it–why we have to equate flat abs with health and First Lady arms with longevity.

 

You know what? I no longer have completely flat abs. My triceps don’t pop anymore. I can’t deadlift or do a pull up (or ten) like I used to.

 

But you know what I’m more concerned about? The fact that I can’t run up a flight of stairs–or even walk it without getting winded. I’m more concerned about the fact that my gut health is still affecting my skin. I’m more concerned about the fact that walking my dog isn’t easy.

 

And because I’m spending more time worried about my lack of physical fitness, I’m spending less time worrying about my lack of a six pack. Funny how priorities change. (Would I like a six pack? Sure. But if it means having to starve myself or eat tuna and egg whites six times a day, then it’s not worth it.)

Me with flat abs after Muscle and Fitness Hers Challenge

In order to take this picture, I starved myself, ate nothing but tuna, egg whites, and protein powder, had no friends, went to the gym 7 days a week, and cried a lot. NOT WORTH IT.

 

So maybe I will be okay to go back to the gym. Maybe I finally have the perspective that I was missing when I was spending hours on the elliptical, hoping for the “perfect” body (whatever that is). All I want now is the perfect body for me, where I am today. One that will keep me healthy, happy, and living a good, long life.

But that’s just me. More soon,

Love,

K.