DAYS 20 & 21

As I approached the three week mark of my journey, I was filled with a sense of accomplishment. I went back into NYC to visit two of my best friends - neither of whom I'd seen in almost two years. 

As I brunched on egg whites and salad with bestie #1, I felt a twinge of congestion and a few sneezes squeak out. Ugh. Allergies. I'd been warned that this was going to be one of the worst allergy seasons ever - something to do with an overpopulation of male trees and a whole lot of pollen with nowhere to go but into my nose. I figured that rather than feeling like crap I should grab some Claritin D and really try to not to tucker out during the time I'd allotted for bestie #2.

Though I was still sniffly, I powered through, walking the floors of Bloomingdales like a champ. It was not until taking the subway to Brooklyn that I realized the congestion was getting worse, not better. I popped back some more Claritin, knowing I needed to rebound immediately. Bestie #2 had a ton of energy as she was training for a race and currently running upwards of 10 miles a day. And she wanted to meet at the Brooklyn Bridge Park where we'd be able to take a long walk. I couldn't Peter out now, allergies! Luckily, the walk through Brooklyn was beautiful, the absolute perfect weather. Plus, it was the time of day just before the sun began to set where everyone was walking their dogs. It made me miss Rory (my own) so terribly that I found myself saying drawn out "hiiii"s to several dogs as I passed them by. I was so into one particular dog that I didn't even notice one of them belonged to one of my favorite actors, Bryan Greenberg (my love for OTH will never die) and his girlfriend Jamie Chung, until I'd passed. It turned out to be okay, though, because as I came upon the park I was greeted with this beautiful view of lower Manhattan. No filter necessary. 

Before I even had time to process, I was being wrapped up into a warm hug, And my mood instantly lifted. As we walked down the path, she informed me all about her running progress and asked me about my journey into healthy living. Having once been packing a few extra pounds (though not quite where I'd let myself go), she offered her two cents. "I'm sure everyone has given you theirs already, she said, "But since I've really gone through it I just wanted to tell you my experience." I told her I wanted all the cents I could find, and she launched in. She told me she'd been keeping up with my blog and instagram and she worried my intake was too low. That when she did the same thing starting out she was inexplicably exhausted and not losing nearly as much as she thought she would. It was only when she added to her intake (healthfully, of course) did she start losing more and having way more energy. I told her I'd thought about the same thing, as most of the health and fitness gurus say the same thing. When you're exercising you need to feed the muscles you're building. More muscle = higher metabolism = more fat burning even while not working out. That contrary to logical thought, eating less while still maintaining my exercise routine would signal to my body to store more of my intake for fear of not getting enough fuel for my workouts. I explained to her my anxiety about raising my calorie limit. That my problems with binge eating were so pervasive I worried about opening that door too quickly. She understood, but then she started crying. (Side note: Can I say a blanket apology to everyone I've made cry? I'm horrified that my behavior has affected so many people. I don't plan on this happening ever again.) 

Anyway, she cried. She said how upset she was about learning my previous weight loss hadn't been earned through healthy means. That she was upset with herself for not seeing through my lies. But I promised her I'd never do that again. It was miserable to feel that kind of guilt associated with food, and it's what led to my cycle of binge eating. She hugged me and we took this picture to commemorate my promise. 

After our emotional conversation, we were in dire need of sustenance. We easily found a healthy restaurant a few blocks away (seriously if you're ever in Brooklyn and want delicious healthy foodNature's Grill is all organic with gluten free, vegan and vegetarian options). I left her for the night feeling energized and loved and ready to conquer the 4th week of my journey! But by the time I was finally sitting on the train back to CT (nearly 12 hours and 16k steps later), I realized my "allergies" weren't any better. In fact, they were about 100 times worse, and were actually a cold. 

I woke the next day completely incapacitated by my sickness. Fever, congestion, soreness and a hacking cough took over my body. I could barely move off the couch and eating was not high up on the list of thigs I wanted to do. Somewhere between my naps and nose blowing, I started to feel a panic rise up in me. 

This wasn't a part of my schedule! I was supposed to spend the morning in the gym doing upper body weight training and my intake was totally off. By 5pm I'd only consumed 350 calories and walked 40 steps. The mean voice in my head returned, telling me I needed to get off the couch, that I was a lazy sod. So when my mom said she was going to go for a walk down by the water I immediately jumped at the chance to join her. 

I pushed through a two mile walk, insisting I was fine and even encouraging us to do more for fear of having an unintentional rest day. Though I could see the worry on my mom's face, I ignored it. Until we got back inside and I was wracked with chills and sweats. After a long shower and hearty dinner of chicken, veggies and brown rice, I reminded myself that I would only prolong my sickness if I continued to push myself like that. That my anxiety can't be what rules my life. I need to take control and tell her to step off, that a rest day is necessary when I'm this sick. And being healthy includes self care and rest. 

Today I'm giving myself the rest day I need and trying not to feel bad about it. I'm taking care of my brain as well as my body by putting on makeup and doing my hair and getting a desperately needed pedicure. I keep reminding myself that two rest days in a row while my body heals is necessary and I can't feel guilty about that. That pushing myself to do anymore will hinder my heath, not help it. Because I have a long ways to go. As always, let's keep doing this. 

DAY 10

Health and travel are not usually synonymous. Especially not for me. For a few reasons, actually. First, I get frustrated with my packing and inevitably the sneakers and workout gear is the first to get left behind. Then there’s the travel itself. Airports and airplanes filled with junk food, fast food, and disgusting food. And then, when you arrive at your destination you’re tempted with new exciting restaurants, and the last thing in the world you want to do is make time to exercise! 

But today begins my three week trip to visit my family (first stop Chicago to visit my big sister and my new nephew, then off to CT to spend two weeks with my momma!), and I wanted to make sure that my travels weren’t going to compromise my fitness and health goals! Flying before has always been treacherous on my health. Mostly because I’m afraid to eat the bad food around me, but after hours of starving myself, I inevitably give in to something unhealthy on the plane or in the airport. But not today! In order to prepare for my trip, I loaded myself up with healthy foods for the plane - an apple, some almonds, and a prepared Trader Joe’s salad. Though I had anticipated getting up early to eat breakfast, I only had time for my cup of coffee before heading to the airport. I figured I would just eat my salad early, and it wouldn’t be a problem, but then I did some calculations - and if I ate my lunch as I got on the plane, it would be another seven or eight hours before my next meal was prepared for me! So, I did a search for the healthiest option available. Luckily, there was a newly installed Marmalade Cafe in the United Terminal (thanks for being so fancy, LAX!), and I was able to get an egg white scramble with mushrooms, spinach, and a slice of swiss cheese on top. I was surprised, though, when the plate came out with not just the scramble. There was a side of potatoes, and toast and butter. UGH. My greatest nemesis. White carbs. I’m not going to lie, I had about three pieces of potato after my scramble. But I knew that I’d regret going down that path if I had anymore, and I had already filled up on much better foods. So, the processed carbs got trashed. It was a small victory, but I documented it anyway!

Just before boarding my sister let me know that when I arrived in Chicago there would be a healthy dinner waiting for me at her apartment. So I just want to take a minute to express my thanks to my family. Yes, my friends have been extremely encouraging and helpful, but my family has been on another level. Their love and support has helped me from breaking down, and I look forward to being able to visit them without feeling awkward about asking to go to the gym or for healthy food substitutes. My mom told me to think of my trip to her as a spa vacation. Rest, relaxation, and focus on my health. And my sister has told me we’re going to walk the baby all around Chicago (3 mile walks every day!) as well as using her apartment gym. I come up from a family of disordered eating. As I mentioned before, my father reached just over 400 lbs at his highest weight, from an uncontrollable addiction to food and alcohol. My mother once told me she was anorexic for a time in her youth, and at 5’8” was only 120 lbs on her wedding day. My sisters have both experienced stress related anorexia, coping with being out of control by over-controlling with their daily intake. And obviously, I have swung between binging and starving. My sisters have received the help they needed and become extremely healthy individuals, and now it’s my turn. Though they’ve wanted to help me for many many years, I had to come to a point where I wanted to do it myself. And I’m incredibly grateful to them for not losing hope that I one day would come to that conclusion. 

An incredible support system is one of the most important parts of this journey, and I’m so glad I have one. So, bring it on Chicago! Let's do this. 

DAYS 7 & 8

This entry is brought you by the letters P. M. and S.

I once read an article that said most diets that start on a Monday are broken by the end of the week, and for some reason that's always stuck with me. I think the actual message of the article was that people who view their food intake as a "diet" are the ones who give up and fail, but I have always taken it literally (if you were wondering why I started my journey last Tuesday, that's why).

Yesterday, I was thoroughly enjoying my day off from working out (and heading over to one of my best friend's apartments to spend some time writing), when a sharp pain stabbed into my lower stomach. It subsided quickly and then struck again a few minutes later. Fuck, I thought. Was it time for my period already (or as I've started calling it thanks to a clever co-worker, my moon time)? In all my excitement about starting this new healthy life, I failed to remember that my period was on its way, which is kind of insane because as my close friends and family know, my period turns me into a sad baby overwhelmed by the crippling pain of stomach cramps and lower back pain. These symptoms have only gotten worse with my weight gain. According to my extensive internet research (trying to figure out at home remedies for cramping), I learned that my extra fat actually has an estrogenic effect on my glands. This excess estrogen creates a myriad of problems including emotional upheaval, irritability, sadness, and last but definitely not least...debilitating cramps. Sounds like fun, right?

So, as I circled looking for a spot, getting more and more annoyed, I turned the wheel in the opposite direction and made a bit of a detour to a corner market where I grabbed a bottle of wine and looked for something chocolate. I knew it wasn't the best decision, but I felt like I NEEDED it. How would I be productive if I was miserable, I reasoned with myself. The options were limited, so I grabbed a bag of Milanos and a bottle of red wine and continued on my way.

Upon arriving, I inhaled the bag of cookies. Only sparing two for my friend, because I knew otherwise I would eat the whole thing. 14 cookies and two glasses of wine later, I was still unsatisfied. The wine had relaxed my muscles enough that the cramps no longer felt like a demon baby was trying to claw its way out of my uterus, but the cookies had only satiated my emotional hunger, not my desire for real food. I input the cookies into my nutrition tracker and gasped. I had consumed almost a thousand calories worth of empty food, making me almost 500 calories over my approximate limit for the day. And I hadn't even had dinner yet! I felt guilty. How could I have done that to myself? I continued sipping on my wine, hoping I'd be able to do without dinner, but as the evening continued and the hours passed, I knew I needed dinner.  Luckily, I remembered I'd left some Trader Joe's ravioli in my friend's freezer a few weeks ago! Not the best choice, but better than ordering takeout. Unfortunately, she'd eaten the ravioli, and I finally gave in. I needed to order food. The only restaurant open was a Thai place down the block, so I ordered my favorite curry and a side of rice. I ate all the rice with half the container of curry in record time (yet again), and immediately regretted it. I felt completely bloated, filled way too far, and immediately the guilty and berating thoughts appeared. "You're such an idiot," I thought. "This is why you're so fat. You'll never succeed at this rate. You're such a disappointment."

I couldn't sit there anymore stewing in my shame and discomfort (plus, by this time it was about 1 am), so I took off. As I was outside and walking to my car, a gross thought entered my head - "You could make yourself puke," I thought. "No one's around. No one would ever know. You don't have to feel this full." I'm not going to lie, this wasn't the first time those thoughts had appeared. And I'm loathe to admit that I've done it a handful of times, just wanting to forget about the food I'd gorged on earlier. But I stopped myself this time. Yes, I had eaten too much. Yes, I didn't feel well. Yes, I'd made bad decisions. But making myself throw up was not going to help, and it most definitely wasn't the way to a happier and healthier life. I had to acknowledge that and accept that. Berating myself wasn't going to change the fact that I'd eaten too much. And it certainly wasn't going to make me feel better. In fact, if anyone actually talked to me the way I talk to myself, I would have cut them out of my life a LONG time ago.

So today, as I wallowed with my heating pad in day two of my heinous cramps, I realized the first thing I really need to do this week. I need to say goodbye to that terrible voice in my head that tells me I'm worthless. That voice sucks. She's mean and a bully. She's toxic, like that terrible girl from high school you always wanted to impress but knew she'd never give you the time of day. I think by working on getting rid of her, it will free my head to think in a more positive direction without fear of being reprimanded for failing. Because the truth is, I'm going to fail. There are going to be shitty days, days where I can't get out of bed, days where I will fall down and miss the mark. But that's okay. In a week of successful eating and working out, one bad day (even if it's really really bad) isn't the end of the world. And it certainly doesn't warrant me treating myself poorly. I need to stand up to that voice and tell her to fuck off. So, that's what I'm going to do. Today is a new day, and I've lived through it successfully.

On a separate note, does anyone have any suggestions for making it through your period cravings in a healthy way? Are there any tricks of the trade? Next month I want to be as prepared as I can be. Because, as always, I'm going to keep doing this.