The Evolution of My Diet

It's all good.  Isn't it?

We grew up as a meat and potatoes family.  I married into a meat and potatoes family.  I raised a meat and potatoes family.  Our meat and potatoes family love us some SNACKS, too!  We've been known to consume Krispy Kremes by the dozens, and if it's a homemade treat, watch out!

Now that I'm "older," I have begun to question the way I eat...and drink.  I have been a soda drinker forever.  When we were kids, Mom made homemade root beer for us.  Every night for dinner, we drank root beer.  And then when I became an adult, and with my adult-level-thinking, I decided that it would be much wiser to drink DIET soda, to save myself some calories.

There is such a wide variety of soft drinks available.  Entire aisles at the grocery store are occupied by bottled and canned liquids enticing us with sugar or sugar substitutes.  Back in the sixties, there were two diet sodas:  Fresca and Tab.  Fresca was grapefruit flavored, clearly not developed for my childish palate!  Do you remember TAB?  What a miserable excuse for a soft drink THAT was.  I determined that sacharine was nasty stuff and have always steered clear of the "pink packets" on restaurant tables.

Over the years, I've tried to give up my Diet Pepsi.  I seriously love the taste.  Occasionally, I like a little Diet Dr. Pepper.  I would endure the three day headache that comes with the initial cessation of caffeine.  I would triumph over the cravings, drowning my thirst with quarts of water.  If there had been any visible, noticeable differences, like losing some quick weight, I might have pursued giving up pop altogether.  Come Saturday morning, I'd step on the scale, and if there wasn't a five pound drop from last week, I'd question what I was doing.  I hadn't lost WEIGHT, I had terrible headaches, and I just didn't enjoy that much water.  And back to soda I'd go.

After the Netflix propaganda-fest at our house lately of healthy eating, the vegan lifestyle, the Gerson approach to healing with nutrition, juicing, and documentaries about our questionable food industry, I have begun to think.  Thinking is always a good thing.  One of my biggest obstacles is mindlessly living my life.  Doing things according to habit, with no thought of consequence.

I'm realizing that my body has to process everything I put into it.  And then the guilt began to set in.  (Sorry about that pesky preposition!)  I had recently started eating FRITOS.  Food doesn't get much more processed than that.  I have no idea what's in them.  Cornmeal and grease, I'm betting.  And salt to make them yummy.  Give me a small bowl of Fritos (well, a big bowl would be even better) and a big, old, ice-cold Diet Pepsi and I was in Snack Nirvana.

Earlier on my blog, I posted my recipe for Le Beau Citron (homemade limeade).  Drinking freshly squeezed limeade made with natural stevia is what started my whole separation from Diet Pepsi.  I found that the citrus drink was so refreshing, that I didn't really want anything else.  I promised myself I could have a soda on the weekend.  That Saturday, when I ceremoniously popped the tab on my sweating can of soda, my mouth watered in anticipation of my first sip.  EWWW.  What had happened to my yummy drink?  It seemed acidic, sharp, and it assaulted my mouth.  I drank some more just to see if it improved, but I eventually emptied the rest down the drain.

If soda is full of artificial sweeteners and chemicals, what is in Fritos?  And Pepperidge Farm cookies?  And Reese's Peanut Butter Puffs cereal?  (A-hem.  Yes, these items resided in my pantry.  Don't judge.)
I started to THINK about my food.  I started looking at the ingredients.  And I started to put things back on the shelf and look for a healthier option.  (No, I did NOT put them in the trash.  Don't judge.  There are other people in this house besides myself to consider.  And what if I decide I need a little SNACK later?  Huh?  Well, now you know why I didn't dispose of the offending food.)

My husband bought a juicer this summer and loves pulverizing fruits and vegetables into a drinkable liquid.  I'm more of smoothie girl, so I add my fruits and veggies to the Vitamix and make frozen concoctions packed with nutrition, but they still give me the satisfaction of eating something sweet, cold, and creamy.

A friend asked if I were eating the Paleo Diet.  My son and daughter-in-law have done that for awhile, with good results.  If you're not familiar, allow me to simplify the idea for you.  You eat like a caveman on the Paleo Diet, but hopefully with better table manners.  If you can hunt it and gather it, you can eat it.  Plan on meals with plenty of meat and veggies.  And not much bread.  Or cookies.  Or Fritos.  No, I am not following the eating habits of any prehistoric tribe.

I am not following ANYTHING, except my heart.  I am not an herbivore, a carnivore, a Paleo dieter, a vegetarian or a vegan.  I am an omnivore, a whole foods omnivore.  I've read recently that some vegetarians have the worst diets ever because they believe as long as it's not meat, it's okay.  Their diets consist of voluminous amounts of junk food and have little to do with vegetables and fruits.  They simply avoid meat.

It was with great delight I read about Venus Williams' calling herself a CHEAGAN, a cheating vegan.  I guess I could be considered one of those.  I eat (you do realize I mean to say I have recently BEGUN to eat, don't you?  This isn't coming from years of experience as a healthy eater!)...ANYWAY, currently, I eat vegetables, fruits, grains, eggs, Greek yogurt, and cottage cheese, and when the mood strikes, I am still up for a good piece of meat, whether that be fish, poultry or beef.

My son is so worried I've become a vegetarian.  I'm not THERE.  Yet.  I am just trying to stick to WHOLE FOODS, and avoid consuming so many processed foods. Meat will still find its way to my table, but I have to force myself not to think about where the meat was before it was at the store.  I think that's a sign of some kind.  I am not going to dwell on that right now.  I'm just doing the best I can, eating as healthy as I can.  "When you know better, you do better."  This is where I am right now. And right now, I am glad there are no Fritos on top of the fridge today because all of this talk about eating is making me hungry.

P.S.  People always want to know...have I seen a difference? YES.  After a week-long trip back home to Virginia, I packed on a fast six pounds.  Within six days of returning to my smoothies, salads, fruits, grains, and selective meats, I lost those six plus two more. My skin is clearer.  I'm not craving my junk food.  I don't desire soda any more. Was there water weight lost?  Of course, there was.  All I know is I'm back on track after a week of eating NOT mindfully on vacation, and I feel pretty great physically, all things considered.

*No More Skiing?

"What are you going to do when you retire?"  I heard that question time after time as the end of May approached.  And I knew how to answer it, too. We're going to hike, bike, and ski. I've enjoyed an active lifestyle since about 2000, when I tried weight lifting, walking and running to get in better shape. When I was in my late forties, I decided I needed to learn to ski.

Still smiling on New Year's Day
2012

Last Christmas, I gave my teenager a season pass to Eagle Point Ski Resort. I wanted us to take advantage of the weekends we had together by skiing and boarding. New Year's Day was a perfect day for skiing, clear skies and sunshine. 

It is also the day that I joined the ranks of the injured athlete. I'm no professional; I am a "nube," a novice, but I try to make up for any athletic prowess I lack with enthusiasm. That can get a girl in trouble, apparently. 

I finally agreed to take on the hill to which my ski instructor had challenged me the previous year. It was with great trepidation that I started my descent, and the next thing I knew, gravity took over, and I was a tangled mess of arms, legs, skis and ski poles, careening down the mountain like a tumbleweed.

My doctor told me that I had torn my MCL. (I'd only heard of ACLs; the MCL is the ligament of the inner knee.) His face lit up with a big smile.  

"You have something in common with Karl Malone of the Utah Jazz!  This is the same injury that ended his career."  

If that was supposed to be comforting, it certainly was not. Lucky for me, I don't rely on my knees to make my money. I was able to return to my fifth grade classroom immediately; I just had a little "hitch in my get-along," as they say.

It seems that my passion for skiing would have to wait until the MCL healed, until about June. June is a pretty crummy time to hit the slopes, and my hopes were dashed. We only skied that one day last season, and the klutz in me saw to it that we we began and ended our fun times together on New Year's. NOT WHAT I'D ENVISIONED.

Summer came; I retired; I started hiking. I hiked with my boys in Saint George, checking out the ancient petroglyphs; I hiked with friends along the Bonneville Shoreline; I hiked alone in Bullion Canyon; I hiked with Bridger to Calf Creek Falls. I met a woman while I was hiking, and we exchanged phone numbers.  I had enlisted another hiking partner! The summer was off to a joyous start.

I just like this x-ray. My doctor assures me we can prevent
further damage in my finger joints by getting started now.

And then I met with my rheumatologist yesterday. I wasn't there about pain, necessarily, but about weakness. I knew there might be a problem when I started thinking perhaps we should buy our milk in quart-sized quantities because lifting half gallons hurt my wrists. Offers to massage family members dwindled because it hurt my hands to knead muscles for longer than a few minutes. Whenever I brush my finger across my nose, there is a sharp pain in my index finger. Once during a massage for myself, my wrists cracked and popped, much to the horror of the masseuse.  

"Wrists shouldn't do that.  You need to see a doctor soon," he advised.

So there I was, waiting for my lab and x-ray results. It seems my rheumatologist had two things to discuss...previous injuries that were causing a problem, and a diagnosis to explain my weakness and pain. Dr. Mathews snapped the x-ray of my back onto the lighted view box. I knew it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Falling out of a tree on my tailbone, and a couple of BAD landings in gymnastics when I was young had taken their toll on my spine. Lower back pain is just something I've dealt with since I was a teenager.

Basically, he told me that the GOOD news was that the damage in my spine occurred in the vertebra just below the end of the spinal cord, so if a future injury occurs in that fragile spot, it won't paralyze me. Well, that WAS some good news!  (Holy cow, this wasn't going the way I'd hoped.) He went on to tell me how unstable my back is.  

"You could do the same movement a hundred times without a problem, and then one day, your back might slip, and you will require the assistance of an ambulance to get you to a hospital, and surgery to relieve the pain in your back."

There was a crooked woman...
That tail bone should NOT be
that far to the right.

No walking on un-level surfaces. No sudden falls. No twisting ever. No lifting anything more than 25 pounds. No taking chances. No hiking. No skiing. No fun.

Then he went on to tell me I have Sjogren's Syndrome. Long story short, my body is a desert. I lack sufficient moisture (dry mouth, dry nose, dry eyes, etc.) that also affects the lubrication of my joints, which leads to arthritic conditions. Lovely. When I Googled Sjogren's, I learned that I have something in common with Venus Williams, the famous tennis player. This condition is what sidelined HER this year.

If I am going to have things in common with famous athletes, I would prefer it to be their salaries, their muscled physiques, or their mansions, if anyone in the heavens is listening. Just sayin'...

This is all still sinking in to my muddled brain. I am bummed. My feelings are hurt. And yes, I guess I'm a little depressed about the diagnosis, but I've always been a Pollyanna when it comes to setbacks. 

My mom taught me to see problems as challenges.  I've always banked on "when there's a will, there's a way." Once I realize that my life isn't ending, it's just going to be different, I'll be fine.

Was everything Dr. Mathews told me gloom and doom?  No.  I did hear a couple of "green lights." I can still walk on level surfaces, although NON-weight-bearing exercises are preferred. Biking and swimming are great, he reminded me. Biking is an activity I enjoy. We'll have to check out more of the bike trails in Utah. I love water, but I don't like swimming long, monotonous laps with my head underwater.  I like to "soak."  If I'm not going to be hiking and skiing, I better figure out new ways to burn calories because I sure don't plan to give up eating.

Speaking of eating, Venus Williams has adopted a raw, vegan diet since her diagnosis of Sjogren's. I've been trying to incorporate more veggies into my eating, and less red meat this summer anyway. I'm going to go slowly. Research. Experiment. Maybe this will turn into one of those blessings in disguise. Miss Venus is looking pretty trim these days. Miss Denise could use a little more lean flesh herself! There's the first glimmer of the silver lining.  

"It's all good," as they say in the south.  There's a saying which is not attributed to anyone famous, or anyone at all, really, that I like.

"It's not over until it's over."  And my ride definitely isn't over.  It's really just beginning, isn't it?

P.S. I cannot find the source of the above quote located on Pinterest, but I found a wonderful blog entry by Laura Jayne Martin that explores this whole "Everything will be okay" thing. She came to the same conclusion about the source of this quote. It's been attributed to many, including Paolo Coelho and John Lennon. I loved her writing.  Warning:  her language may offend some, but if that doesn't scare you, try reading "Everything Will be OK" here:   http://thoughtcatalog.com/2013/everything-will-be-ok/