Recognizing Pitfalls

After a solid 2 weeks of tightening up my eating, I've got a little distance from the hold food can have over me.  This distance is a great thing because it allows me to be present and see things more clearly.  So much of having a healthy relationship with food is having a healthy mind.  I'm going to list some of the common pitfalls I encounter when it comes to food, and how I deal with them.  It is always easier to deal with them when I'm on a roll with good eating, with a clear head.  I consider each event to be "practice" for my ever long quest to fuel my body with the best quality, and at the right quantities.

 

#1- I've been eating healthy for X amount of time, I deserve a treat!

This.  This gets me almost every time.  I reach a point where I've just had enough of vegetables and lean protein and I feel that I deserve to eat whatever I want.  Unfortunately, history has shown me that once I do indulge in some form of treat, pulling the reins back in quickly (or at all) is my biggest challenge.  I will continue to work on this forever, because I want to live a balanced life that does include the occasional twice baked almond croissant from Bakery Nouveau.  I simply refuse to believe that I can never eat certain things again.  Not only is that incredibly disordered, its just plain boring.  There are no "good" foods and there are no "bad" foods.  There are just better choices. 

My solution:  I really need to focus on making sure that my times of indulgence are the very, very minority, and 95% of the time I'm fueling my body properly.

 

#2- Free food/catered lunches at work

I don't know what it is about free food.  I act like at some point I was poor and starving and I can't get that out of my head when I see free food.  Trust me, I have never been starved my whole life.  Even at times of having little money, I always managed to eat plenty.  But when I'm around free food, you would never guess that!  Even if I'm able to pass up the food at first, knowing it is just sitting there and I haven't tasted it haunts me.  When I'm on a roll of eating well, I have the best ability to stand up to it and think about other things.  When I'm down the slippery slope of eating...I tend to go crazy. 

My solution:  Keep vigillant.  Know that their will always be food, free food, things you have not tasted.  Remember what my goals are- to fuel my body properly. 

 

#3- Going out to eat

The hubs and I love to go to restaurants.  The problem with going out to eat too much is I don't know what they are putting in the food, and portion sizes are generally large.  Not to mention with a new baby, going out to eat all the time is not where our finances should be focused. 

My solution: Keep fridge stocked with easy to make proteins and veggies.  Plan restaurant outings days in advance so they are special and not whim decisions. 

 

#4- Food = Something to do

Whether it be out of boredom, or a social activity, eating is something to do.  To me, eating is fun.  Something to look forward to.  When I don't have a lot going on, I often plan elaborate meals to make (or prior to ditching the SAD, I would bake things like crazy).  When a friend wants to get together, its usually for lunch or dinner, and I get excited at the opportunity to "treat" myself. 

My solution: Recognize the difference between looking for something to do, and being hungry.  Often, just noticing that I'm bored is enough to get me to think of a different way to spend my time.  Also, baby has been a pretty good time suck so lately I don't have a lot of free time to shop and make elaborate meals.  The occasional outing with a friend, I'm going to put those into the 5% food choice category.  Sometimes I'll be that annoying friend that orders a salad with dressing on the side, other times I won't. 

#5 Celebration food

Holidays, vacations, birthdays, Fridays- you name it.  There is almost always something going on.  It's easy for me to justify things with "special occasion" and suddenly everything becomes a special occasion. 

My solution: Plan out which holidays throughout the year I want to celebrate with food.  My birthday?  Yes.  Fourth of July?  No.  Thanksgiving?  Yes.  Christmas?  Meh/no.  Then when the occasional unplanned event crops up, I can decide if it is worth it to potentially risk derailing myself.

It helps me to call these things out so I can see when I'm doing them.  If I have an explanation for what I'm doing, usually I can act in an appropriate manner.  It is when I become distant and don't own up to my behavior when things go crazy.  I believe that is how people "wake up" and find themselves at 400 pounds. 

 

Oil Pulling-What's the Deal?

In the past week, I've read about, been asked about, and seen references to oil pulling left and right.  What's the deal?  I'm guessing social media.  Someone posts or pins a 'scientific' article and boom- sharing galore.  Hence everyone talking about it. 

 

I'll admit.  I fell for it.  I read the hype about oil pulling and how awesome it is.  I decided the next day to try it for a week.  I woke up first thing in the morning, grabbed my Costco sized canister of organic virgin coconut oil, dug my spoon into the waxy stuff and jammed a spoonful into my mouth.  I noted the time (5:12a) as the timing is VERY IMPORTANT, 20 minutes, no more, no less!  It was kind of grossing me out until the oil was all the way melted.  I didn't mind the taste, I like coconut, but the texture was a little odd.  I swished around, being careful not to swallow any of those fresh pulled toxins.  After about 5 minutes, and seemingly the volume of liquid in my mouth had tripled, I was doubting my ability to hold on for 20 minutes.  I continued to swish.  I fought the urge to swallow, but why is it that when you can't do something that's the thing you feel you need to do the most?  After what seemed like the longest 20 minutes ever, I spit the coconut oil/saliva/toxins into the garbage.  My teeth felt nice, but they were also coated in oil.   Day 1 done. 

 

Like I said, I would give it a try for a week.  As the week passed, it got less weird, and just part of morning routine.  I could do it while getting ready, feeding the baby, packing up my stuff for the day, and be done in time to spit it out and brush my teeth.  I even did it on my commute to work one morning, but then I had to spit the crap into a ziplock baggie at a stoplight, and that felt weird.

 

I researched a little more and found many of nearly the exact same "instruction/benefit blog posts" and then after some more digging, and a timely article by Huffington Post, I came to the conclusion of 'meh.'  There are no scienfic studies to back up all the incredible claims.  Supposedly it is really good for oral health, and it is also supposed to "remove toxins from your body through your mouth" as well as a myriad of other beneficial claims.  Um, ok.  The oral health improvement, I can maybe see, as the oil might provide an environment in which bacteria do not like, and therefore a reduction in bacteria can occur.  The "removing toxins from your body through your mouth claim?"  I'm calling BS.  How exactly would that work?  Toxins generally collect in your fat tissue, all over your body.  I have no idea how swishing oil in your mouth for 20 minutes a day could possibly pull those toxins out of your fatty tissues, dispose of them into the oil, and then easily be spit into the garbage.   

 

To each his/her own.  If you like doing this and feel it has benefits?  Then by all means do it!  To me?  Its just one more thing to do in the morning, and I can't help think that someone is playing a cruel joke on me everytime I stick a spoonful of waxy coconut oil into my mouth and keep it there for 20 minutes. 

 

 

A New Reason to Hate Moby

Poor Moby.  He gets a bad rap (ha, Eminem, get it?).  I don't really hate him.  BUT he is responsible for some super sore quads and hammies today.  Part of our warm up was "tempo squats to Moby."  I saw that on the gym website and in my head was like "huh?" 

 

Turns out, it was exactly what it said it was.  We put bars on our backs, the trainer cued up some Moby, and we squatted.  And we squatted.  And we held the bottom of a squat.  And we squatted some more.  It was only 3ish minutes, and not knowing what I was in for, I went with a blank bar (35#).  Thank god, I didn't go prescribed weight- 65#, or I wouldn't be walking today. 

If you want to give your muscles a nice wake up call, give it a try.  I've seen videos on the interwebs of people doing this with squats, push-ups, and even handstand push-ups. 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fc2mZkyb2so&noredirect=1

Boot Straps: Found

After a solid 4 days of eating well, exercising, and drinking lots of water, how do you think I feel?  Great.  The answer is great.  Of course.  I mean, who doesn't feel good when they are treating their body right?  I'm not going to waste time talking about how good I feel, or how 'this time is different' or any garbage along those lines.  Talk is cheap. 

 

I followed through on creating an Instagram account for things related to this blog- i.e., I'll be posting pictures of my food, pictures of my gym, progress pics, etc.  If that interests you, you can find me under username: imissmycollarbone

 

When I have the itch to change, to start doing what I need to do, the motivation and drive is easy.  That's why I always kind of chuckle at "the Monday starters."  I mean, everything is great, the grass is green, the sun is shining...and then somewhere, somehow that initial energy wanes.  Oh, do I know about that!  In fact, if that initial energy didn't wane for 98% of the population, everyone would be fit, rich, highly educated, successful, grateful, and achieving all their goals, whatever they may be.  If you can't relate to this energy wane in a health related sense, then I'm sure you can relate to it in some other way; tomorrow I'll start saving more money, tomorrow I'll quit smoking, tomorrow I'll spend more time with my family...

 

My battle is no longer with knowing what to do, or even doing it.  My battle is doing it forever.  I have a lot of respect and admiration for individuals that are so driven, they reach goal after goal.  There is no reason why I can't be one of those people as well.  I know from experience that everything takes practice.  I've had plenty of practice being at the crossroads for that point when the energy wanes.  I don't know if this is the time that things will finally click, and I push past that point to infinity- but I'm going to try my hardest. 

 

Fall down 46 times, get up 47. 

 

 

Getting my Head in the Game

I've spent the majority of my life being conscious of my weight.  I think I went on my first real diet at the age of 10, when my dad and I decided to "do" Weight Watchers.  We didn't sign up or attend any meetings, but my parents had all the materials for muliple previous attempts, so we just used the pamphlets as our guide.  I can distinctly remember how great I felt watching the numbers on the scale drop, and the praise I got from both my parents who, at the time were overweight.  I also remember getting to the point where I preferred an apple versus a cookie or candy bar.  For a 10 year old?  That's pretty huge. 

 

Strangely enough the weight watchers way of life didn't stick with my 10 year-old self.  It was not long until I was conscious of the fact I was larger than my peers, and I need to be doing something about it.  I can look back on my family life now, and see things I was unable to see when I was immersed in it.  Everything in our lives revolved around food.  What were we going to eat next?  Let's walk somewhere to get a treat.  Oh, a special occasion is coming up, what should the menu be?  It's a holiday.  Let's go out to eat.  This was all met with constant guilt as well- oh, we shouldn't be eating this.  We need to walk extra to burn this off.  I need to go on a diet...etc. 

 

I'm not making any excuses for myself now.  I am an adult, I have been living on my own for nearly 15 years.  But I can see how a foundation was built for me to put more emphasis on food than it ever deserves.  A foundation was built for me to see food as either "good" or "bad."  A foundation was built for me to judge my self worth by my size.  Not only did food = love in my family, but thin = love, success, health, and all things good.  My struggles with food and body continue today.  In the past four years of keeping this blog, and hashing out so many of my issues, as well as completely changing the way I view food and exercise, I've learned tremendous amounts about myself.  I've learned what I need to do for me to succeed. 

 

For the past year, I have been giving myself a major pass.  Yes, I was pregnant.  Yes, I just had a baby.  Yes, I'm breastfeeding.  But seriously, I don't feel as good as I know I'm capable of feeling.  I only know I'm capable of feeling so. much. better. because I have.  After my experiments in ditching the standard american diet and eating foods mainly prepared at home by me, consisting of one ingredient, or recipies that put multiple one ingredient items together (still with me?) I realized that I can feel superhuman.  My mental clarity is off the charts...everything just makes sense.  The pull food has on me vanishes, and I can focus on so much more.  I don't know how to explain it, except its miraculous.  I've said it before, and I'll say it now.  I had no idea it was even possible to feel that way.  But I've felt it, and now, I'm too the point where I want it back.

 

If there is anything I've learned from my own self, the countless articles I've read, the blogs I follow, various teams I've been on, etc.- it's that my head needs to be in the game.  I can't be saying one thing and doing another.  It will take constant attention to eat what is right for me, the majority of the time.  I'm gearing up.  I hit up Costco yesterday for massive amounts of veggies and lean protein.  We are well stocked on yams, onions, peppers, broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, pears, almond butter, ground turkey, and chicken.  The way I see it, I spent the past year bulking.  It's time to start cutting.  I'm toying with creating an Instagram account associated with this blog to track progress, I'll keep you updated on that.  For some reason I don't mind if blog followers see progress pics/my boring food pics/gym selfies (because that's all I talk about here), but as far as some aquaintences/workmates/ randoms that follow my personal account...awkward.  So, personal account can be for baby/dog/travel pics, and blog account can be for real foods/heavy weights/ass shrinking. 

 

Here we go. 

 

 

 

 

Hey Look! A non-baby post!

I've been meaning to do a non-baby post for quite awhile, but he takes up so much of my thoughts!  Who knew a baby would be so all-consuming?  Ha.  I suppose that is why some people dedicate blogs to baby/parenting only.  CrossFit is an important part of my life, and remains so even after baby. 

 

Coming back to the gym after my maternity leave, I felt almost as I did the first few times I ever stepped into a CrossFit gym.  I was nervous, felt I probably wasn't in shape enough for the workouts, and had no idea what weights to use.  I don't recall the exact first workout I did 3 months ago, but it involved burpees.  Lots of them.  I remember being SUPER pregnant at the gym a few months prior to that and kind of missing being able to do burpees.  Not that I like doing them, but more of just sad over the fact that I couldn't do them even if I wanted to at that point in time.  Ask and you shall receive, eh? 

 

It was slow going, that is for sure.  Instead of quickly falling to the floor, I would crouch down and walk my legs out one at a time.  Instead of pushing up and hopping my feet underneathe me in one swift movement before jumping up, I would sort of push my torso up and get one leg under me and walk up before completing the jump.  Needless to say, my first burpees back were sloppy, slow, and sooo ugly.  I think I looked at the clock and by the first minute of the workout I had completed 7 burpees. Not only that, but I wasn't really out of breath.  I mean, I was working hard, but burpees done correctly are an aerobic move that kill your lungs.  If you aren't moving your body fast enough, you don't get that same feeling.  I realized that for some exercises, you need to be in shape enough to do them properly in order to get the benefit from them. 

 

I completed the workout to the best of my ability, but it was a humbling day.  Not just because of the burpees, but because of everything.  Our hour long classes typically follow this pattern: mobility, warm-up, strength, workout.  During our routine mobility movements and warm-up, I noticed I didn't have as much mobility as I used to have.  Things were more "creaky" my hips were tight, my knees were not used to squats, sit-ups were hard, and a 400m run was breath stealing.  We then moved into a strength portion of the day, and picking up a 35# bar felt HEAVY.  We were moving towards a 5 rep deadlift, and I think I stopped at 135#.  I think my previous PR for 5 rep DL was along the lines of 215#.  Then we did the burpee workout mentioned above.  Like I said- humbling day.

 

When essentially re-learning these movements/regaining the muscle memory I realized I have a second chance here.  I can take this opportunity to work slowly up to my old lifts, but really work on my form.  Really focus on explosive hip drives with my cleans and snatches.  Work on keeping my elbows high when doing front squats...little things like that make a huge difference and eventually, I will be a better lifter.  I have the chance to make myself even better than I was before.

 

Fast-forward to today.  A good 2 months has passed where I've been averaging 2 days a week at my CrossFit gym, and 2 days a week at our mini-gym at work where I mostly run on the treadmill, plus long walks on the weekends.  Week over week I can feel the progress I'm making at CrossFit.  The 35# bar is no longer heavy.  My mobility is returning.  400m jogs are refreshing.  And?  Today I did 13 burpees in one minute.  Like, real burpees- falling to the ground, jumping up in one movement.  I know that's not smoking fast, but its a huge improvement in a short amount of time. 

 

That is why I love CrossFit.  The results are fast, measureable, and as cliche as it sounds-functional.  I can't tell you how many times a day I am thankful that I can squat down to pick up a dropped pacifier with a screaming 15lb kid in one arm.  Or how I can carry 2 gallons of water in one hand and a full bag of groceries in my other while wearing a baby as I walk to my car in the parking lot.  I like being able to just head out the door for a run or long walk and not have to worry about being in shape enough.  I like being able to do hours worth of yard work and not be sore the next day.  This is nothing I haven't said before.  I am grateful for the sort of "second chance" to see how amazing CrossFit is for me and everything I want to do. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We Had a Great Run

Everyday around 8 or 8:30am I grab my re-usable tote, walk a few steps away from my cube and unlock an office door. I turn the light on and sit in one of two chairs facing the desk, as if I'm applying for a bank loan. The office belongs to "Candy" but she is almost never in the office, so its mine to use whenver she is out. I reach into my tote and take out a small zippered cooler bag and a plastic contraption wrapped in one of my dish towels from home. I unwrap the contraption, double check to make sure I pressed the lock button in on the door handle, and attach a small plastic bottle to the suction device. I unclip the cup from my nursing bra and access my boob. I hold the device to my left boob and quickly pump the handle until I see the drops of white liquid flow down the tube into the bottle. I slow my pace on the handle to mimick the pace of a sucking baby.  I play around on my phone and get comfy to sit for 15 minutes or however long it takes...

 

I decided long ago, perhaps even before I knew I was about to become a mother that I would like to nurse my child as long as it was necessary. Of course when these thoughts first cropped up in my head, I had no idea what that would entail, or how much of a struggle it would be at times.

As I got older and became exposed to more close friends having babies, I heard all sorts of stories about troubled breast feeding.   Mom's that found they wanted their quality of life back after 6 weeks/3 months/6 months, etc. Mom's that didn't produce enough milk. Mom's that produced too much milk. Mom's stressing about possibly not producing enough milk (but babies were thriving).  Babies that couldn't get the latch down.  Babies that started refusing the breast. Babies that would only take the breast.  When I got pregnant I had ideas of how I would like nursing to go for me, but with all these stories, I really had to revise my expectations and get realistic.  I settled on 6 months. I set a goal for myself that barring any extreme circumstances, I would like to make it to 6 months of exclusively breastfeeding my baby.

 

...I hear the sound of liquid dripping onto more liquid.  I look at my phone.  It's been 5 minutes.  My hand is getting tired, so I switch hands.  I look around the office that doesn't belong to me and take note of personal items on the desk.  A photo of Candy's girls.  A foam dumbell with our company logo on it.  Books on the shelf, and boxes of clothes that she must hand out on site visits.  The liquid has stopped flowing, but I keep rhythmically moving my hand.  It's been 7 minutes now...

 

I felt very fortunate that immediately after birth I got to hold my son on my stomach.  I got to feed him immediately, and while it took a lot of learning for me to figure out the best way for him to latch, he never seemed to have any problems.  His weight gain was phenomenal, and slowly during my materinty leave nursing became less stressful, and more natural- like I had always pictured it.  I didn't have concerns about my supply, my son went easily from breast to bottle to breast, wasn't picky with types of bottles, I never once had cracked nipples, or an infection, or any other breast feeding malady.  Things were going great.  When Cyprus started to sleep 8 hours at night I would have to get up and pump anyway, so I began to build a solid freezer stash. 

 

...a few more minutes go by and I see the liquid start flowing again.  I can feel the slight tingling in my breast and I watch the many different pinhole spots squirt milk in all directions before it melds together into a large drop and rolls down into the collection bottle.  Even though I've done this 100's of times, it's still weird.  11 minutes has gone by.  I check the side of the bottle to see how many ounces I have, and I see about 2 ounces...

 

Breast feeding was working for us. By the end of my maternity leave, I was thinking maybe I'll just keep this up as long as possible, past 6 months!  But, I still had to return to work and see how the whole being away and pumping his food for the next day was going to work. When I returned to work, there was a little bit of an adjustment to be discussed with the hubby about not just feeding him everytime he cries, and explaining he can get milk faster from the bottle than from me, so please try to use the milk sparingly.  Once the hubby figured out the pacifier, our pumping/feeding arrangement was working out.  I had an upcoming business trip to Texas, and would be away for 4 days.  So I really wanted to make sure I had enough milk in the freezer for that.  There would be a few days when I wouldn't be able to add to the freezer stash (either I would choose sleep over pumping, or baby would eat extra), and I would get nervous.  I counted and re-counted the frozen bags, as well as the potential days left until my trip.  I knew it would be close.

 

...2 ounces?  Are you kidding me?  I'm normally at 4 ounces at this point.  Then the thoughts start- Should I keep pumping?  It's already been 15 minutes.  I don't want to be missing too much work.  But, next time I pump, it will be on my side that normally produces 2 ounces.  Will I get 2 ounces?  Then I'll only have 4 ounces for the day when I normally have 6 ounces.  I text the hubby- "kid eat yet?"  His response- "Yup, he just downed 7oz like it was nothing."  Crap...

 

After Texas, it seems I just couldn't match my pumped ounces like before.  I don't know if it was the 4 days away?  Or a coincidental growth spurt?  Or my supply dwindling?  Or just my perception?  Either way, I was only getting 1/2 of what I would normally get during a day at work.  That means we need to keep dipping into the freezer stash.  That means my body won't get the message to "ramp up" since I'm not nursing during the more eating times.  My 6 month goal is only 5 weeks away!  5 weeks! 

 

...nothing has come out of my boob for 5+ minutes, so I stop pumping, put my boob away, and place the bottle/pump on Candy's desk.  I carefully unscrew the pump contraption and screw on the yellow bottle top.  I look at the total ounces- the milk line is just barely at the 2 on my "good" side.  Crap.  I place the bottle in the cooler, wrap the pump in the dish towel, and gather my phone.  I put the towel wrapped pump back in my re-useable tote, and carry the cooler in my other hand.  I walk to the work kitchen and put the cooler in the fridge.  I walk back to my cube, note the time and make a mental note to head back to Candy's office in 2 hours for round 2 on the other side.  I typically pump 3-4 times during a work day. 

 

It is constantly on my mind that I may not be able to pump enough milk to make it to 6 months.  I'm already pumping 4-5 times a day, M-F, and once a day Saturday and Sunday.  Our baby is happy, sleeps well, and is meeting his milestones, but he definitely is not a chunky baby.  I decided to weigh him yesterday, and found that he weighs nearly exactly the same as he did 3 weeks ago at his 4 month check-up.  Breastfeeding is entirely a confidence game, and I'm definitely losing confidence in my abilities.  I am slowly coming to grips with the fact that it might be time for formula and/or formula-nursing combo.  I had no idea I'd feel so strongly about wanting to avoid formula, especially since I have no problem or judgement for moms that choose to go that route.  But for ME...I just was hoping to skip the whole formula thing and go from breast to real food.

 

Today as I was nursing baby at 3:30am, I had a thought.  Perhaps I was being short sighted with this "goal" in my head.  Here I am stressing and straining to squeeze blood from a stone, and what if my baby is hungry?  I mean, he's a good, happy, baby but what if he could be even better with a little more food in his belly?  Maybe he would sleep all the way through the night (8+ hours instead of the 7ish?)  Maybe he would go longer than 2-3 hours between feedings during the day.  Maybe he would start to chunk up a bit.  Then I thought about how much my quality of life would improve...no more trips to Candy's office.  Leaving baby won't be a problem since I won't need to be so protective of my stash.  Besides, he will be eating real food in a few months anyway, so what is a few months of formula in the big scheme of things?  I need to get over myself. 

 

Saturday baby will be 5 months.  I'm going to start giving him formula/breastmilk mix after that.  I still have a few bags of breastmilk in the freezer, and I will still have to pump/nurse during this time, but I'm guessing that my supply will start to dwindle and the weaning will begin.  We had a great run, and I'm so, so, so, grateful for that.  As much as I will miss the closeness, I'm pretty excited to get my boobs/life back.