WEEKLY WELLNESS// we're eating our veggies this week.

Weekly Wellness is a community driven project to help each of us adopt a more mindful lifestyle. It is a twelve week experiment wherein we (Laura, myself, and whoever else wants to join) commit to one small change for each of those weeks in an effort to see how even a small shift can reap big rewards. (For the introduction read this and this.) 

I must apologize for missing last week's recap. What follows here doesn't deal with one specific week of the challenge, but I wanted to share it nonetheless. While I'm not one to usually pay attention to stats and numbers, I can tell when a post is read more than others, and I'm constantly surprised that the posts dealing with health and body issues are among the top. It is my great wish that there is information contained in what I've written over the years that others find helpful. (This is my way of saying: thank you--for your continued support and kind, kind words). 

I didn't know what a calorie was until I went to college. 

I mean, I have a vague recollection of the 2,000 calories per day dictum, but beyond that, nothing--I had never looked at a nutrition label in my life. 

I grew up on chicken and rice and peas. Every night. For dinner. Bless, my mom because she made the dinner each night and around the table we sat--food only part of the experience. But, to this day, if I ever go out, chicken is not my food of choice. I've had enough of that bird to last a lifetime.

When I got to college and gained the standard freshman fifteen the proposition of losing weight was daunting. And that was the task at hand: losing weight. Not switching to a healthier diet, or a healthier lifestyle, not learning to read the whole of the nutrition label, but learning to lose weight and quickly. And what that meant was learning to read calories. 

And learning to read calories was, as it turns out, my very own Pandora's Box. 

My pediatrician recommended Weight Watchers. And then my gynecologist, as well. And so I embarked upon that path. And I did what I was told. I ate the fruits and vegetables and I made sure to eat no more than my 20 points, and no less either.

And it was so easy. So easy that I wondered how anyone could ever struggle with their weight when, with the right information, to lose it was the easiest thing in the world. 

Oh, the hubris. 

Now of course I look back and can see I was a woman obsessed--a woman who went to bed each night with the pain of hunger just below my ribs--a woman fed by information that was totally and completely wrong. 

I lost my period immediately. 

And so I went to the same doctors who had suggested the diet plan and I told them I didn't have a period and everyone told me not to worry, it'd be sure to return. 

And it did. Months later, when I began to eat again. 

I followed the plan. I ate the allotted points. And those allotted points added up to roughly 1,000 calories.

1,000 calories is not enough for a woman of my height. At 1,000 calories I was starving myself. This is not opinion. This is fact. And I know this now because other (more informed) doctors have told me this. Someone once commented on one of my posts saying that Weight Watchers is not about deprivation, it would never endorse starvation. But I'm just laying out the facts: I ate the points suggested to me for my weight and height--in a program recommended by more than one doctor and I starved. Until my body couldn't starve any more. And it did what it had to do to make me eat: I began to binge.

You know how if a person hasn't slept for a certain amount of time (I'm talking days) the body will collapse--actually inducing sleep? Or if blood isn't getting to the head fainting occurs so that the head is on the same level of the heart and blood can reach it more easily? The body takes control. It takes over.

That's what binging was. The body taking over. That's why it felt so beyond my control. Because I was starving, my body bypassed my conscious mind (my will power, if you will), and it fed me. A lot. Fed me to the point of over-feeding, because my poor body was so damn terrified that it would never be fed again. And then it clung to every single calorie and I watched, helpless, as the weight accumulated. 

I was at war with myself--my body engaged in trench warfare, shoveling in food, because it couldn't trust that I would ever again feed it.

I still eat too much sometimes--enough that people would label it a binge. But I know better, it's not a binge, it's just too much food over a short period of time because I'm feeling guilty or bad or just worn down--the reasons are many and often without sense. But I am not driven to binge the way I once was. I am not possessed and out of control. 

I used to say that recovery is like a grain of salt tunneling through a glacier. It takes ages. It took my body a really, really long time to trust me again. I would sit on the train and have an unhealthy thought like I've had enough today, I need to eat nothing else and I'd feel a tightening in my chest--like a large door closing and immediately I'd be hungry. I'm now pretty sure that tightening was panic on a cellular level--was my body recognizing the thought and preparing itself for what was to come.

It took a lot of time, and quite a bit of proof (food) too, for my body to forgive me and know that I'd never again withhold sustenance. And only once that trust was built was I returned to myself. 

It's still a process. It's still slow. And that gran of salt is still trucking. And it moves by the small choices I make day after day, week after week. A little more water, a good book in my hand, more vegetables, and getting myself to the exercise class even when I think I might lose my lunch during the worst of the squats. 

That's why I'm so enjoying the Weekly Wellness challenges that change with the weeks. Because it's to say, yeah, I'm doing this, I'm in this. I'm doing what I can to make my life better. It's not an overhaul--it's small, mindful choices tunneling through the crap of processed food and a society with ridiculous beauty standards and a whole diet industry that says the calorie count is the end all be all.

I had to learn how to unlearn what a calorie was. That's been the game-changer. Giving up the low-fat and fat-free and "healthy" foods. Forgetting the points assigned to eggs and tortilla chips. Trusting that my body will tell me when it's had enough if I can quiet my own fears and the hum of all-that-wrong-information enough to listen.

finding my way back. and searching for my groove again (you know, the one that stella got back all that time ago).

yesterday was the eighth day of the never-ending-cold.

and so i awoke. depressed.

no, no, not depressed with a capitol "d", more just off,  down-in-the-dumps, a little... out-of-sorts.

i'd lost my mojo (blogging-mojo included {maybe, most especially my blog-mojo}).

it had been a week of runny noses, scratchy throats, undeniable sinus pressure and a strange sense of nausea coupled with hunger--that was the worst! the inability to identify my own sense of hunger. or lack thereof. and so my eating was all askew.

but after a trip to the minute-clinic and a prescription to combat what i was told was a sinus infection i willed myself to trader joes' knowing that on this, the eighth day, a good dinner was gonna make or break me.

i needed something tasty and healthy but with a little kick.

so while at trader joe's i picked up the mahi mahi fish burgers, their pre-made guacamole, and some produce to fill it all out.

i could live on those mahi burgers alone. i know this would not be a good idea for a myriad of reasons, but i love those things--for the not-so-long-ago-burger-queen anything in the shape of the patty speaks to some deep recess of my soul.

but the mahi patty alone would not suffice.

so i pulled out a frozen trader joe's pre-made guacamole, ran it under some warm water to thaw it out, and chopped grapes, grape tomatoes, and cilantro to my heart's content (all while watching modern family). i really like the guacamole as is, but the chance to add in some more veggies cannot be ignored. veggies and a little squeeze of a lime? yes, please. thickens it up and adds nutritional value.

usually i'll just add the guac on top of the patty and call it a day. but i've been, as i said, down-in-the-dumps. so i sauteed some mushrooms in a little bit of butter for that extra something.

and so it went. mahi mahi patty. sauteed mushrooms. and guac on top.

and my restorative dinner was made. and devoured.

followed by a massive, levain chocolate-walnut cookie.



i'm sorry that i've lost my blog-mojo. sorry that i've been inconsistent and scattered about this week of creating a new tab--one that focuses on health and feeding the whole body. but i am so grateful and excited by your responses and ideas. and happy to announce that the new tab label will be...drumroll please...FED. isn't it perfect? and simple? and the absolute best play-off of NED? there were so many good suggestions, but tiffany's just seemed so obvious (kind of the way brilliant books are obvious in that that they're genius and you wish you'd thought of them yourself). the FED series will continue, but will be interspersed with regular programming. it will provide recipes, ideas, suggestions, information, products (all through my slightly warped lens of course--and i definitely want to hear from you all). i just want to make it clear that FED will not be about weight loss. it will be about finding our natural body, learning to love the body we have, and being really smart about how we do that--especially in how we talk about it. 

FED: feeding with information

it's been a sparse week around these blog parts. so i sat down last night to write a really meaty FED post. so i sat down on the couch with the computer. and then i moved to my desk. then climbed into bed.

and i came up with a lot of dribble that filled about three drafts that are now tucked away somewhere in my archives. but it just wasn't ready. the words weren't coming.

so instead i'm going to say this:

read this:

JANNA DEAN, HEALING THE BODY IMAGE (on the glorious CJANE's blog)

now this:

JANNA DEAN, HEALTHY BODY IMAGE FOR OUR CHILDREN (again, thank you CJANE)

watch this video to learn what FAT TALK is:




and let's be clear what the word diet means and how it is used (i emailed tom {my very, very smart therapist who happens to be an eating and weight disorder expert} so as we'd get this really, really right):

diet as a noun is "the food that you eat"
in our culture we use diet as a verb to describe some process designed to alter one's body through what we eat--most often this means restricting. this has led to the misuse of the word diet as a noun to mean "the food that you eat to lose weight"

so from here on out when i (or someone else) say diets don't work what is meant by diets is a specific, regimented process designed for the ultimate task of losing weight.



now for extra credit: check out mark bittman's food manifesto.

i want to know what you all think about all this. because on monday you better believe i'm gonna let you know what i think. let's hash through this...

fed tip of the day: find some dishes you really love.

don't underestimate the power of the mundane. eating is about the whole experience. i keep this set of bowls in my room--much as i trust my roommates, i don't want try and avoid (or at least delay) the normal wear and tear. i use them daily and daily they have the power to make whatever concoction i've thrown together into an something akin to a meal. 

what is fed: (in case you're new...)

an attempt to talk about health (especially that pertaining to eating and food) in a positive and constructive way. for me it is a way to share what has enabled me to find a life of normalcy (the big and little things) after struggling with an eating disorder for many years. 

WEEKLY WELLNESS// to nourish

there was a dance in my kitchen yesterday afternoon, just as the last of the now-too-quickly-fading light crept under that wet blanket of winter night.

the lift of the faucet to fill the pitcher, the turn of the dial to warm the coffee maker, the twist of my foot to open the fridge. the flick of the match to light the candle, the shuffle of feet to get to the bath to run the water to pour the salt.

a messily orchestrated movement of steps that ended with me submerged in water, coffee mug resting on chest.

bath and latte.

the thrum of the details of everyday life.

this is the way in which i nourish myself. with a song that is that thrum of everyday life.

to nourish: provide with substances necessary for growth, health, and good condition//enhance the fertility of (soil)

when i read that definition the first time round i mistakingly read (soil) as soul and i had this really hippy-dippy moment in with i let out a huge breath and felt totally justified. yes! yes, yes! fertility of the soul, perfection! and then i realized my mistake.

such a good mistake. such a good and delicious mistake.

you know that expression,  food is love? you must. surely someone reading this has it on a sign hanging in their kitchen. and i get it, and i respect it, but the thing is, i hate it. i absolutely loathe the expression. because it's true in that it's some of the story. but it's not true in that it's not enough of the story. and i think it proves dangerous in that most people in most places think it's entirely true and so they eat and eat and eat. but most things cannot be fed by food.

food is not love. food alone is just not love. believe me, i know. for years i let it try to fill that space meant for self-love and i ended up with a lot of extra weight and a sadness far heavier than there are words to describe it.

when i first met tom he would have me fill out a sheet of paper when i ate. i was meant to say what time it was, where i was eating, what i ate, and how i was feeling. it's a pretty standard practice--he knew that, i knew that, and i wasn't terribly invested in it. i didn't do it for too long, but i have to tell you, the practice of it stuck with me and over the course of time i began to understand the method to this madness.

when i was deep in the throws of the eating disorder people would ask, well, why do you binge? what is it that brings it on? and that question would drive me nuts. it would absolutely unhinge me--because it was so very much the right question and so very much the point and i didn't have an answer. if i knew, i'd tell you. if i knew, it'd be easier. 

how i was feeling.

i used to feel like every emotion was wound into one giant ball of string and a binge was brought on by one of the strings, but all i could ever identify was the mass of the thing--everything and all at once. but slowly, over time, i began to unwind and untangle one from the other. this one here that's guilt. and this one is frustration. and here's thirst, and this one is failure, and this one is that shitty, shitty thing that that shitty, shitty person said to me. and on and on i untangled until i had a thousand separate threads spread between my hands, a bouquet of all i'd ever felt or wanted to know.

and i came to figure out that binges often occurred when i confused thirst for hunger or when i was overly tired and a good long way from bed. to drink and to sleep. basic needs. two ways in which we must nourish ourselves--a need to feed that has nothing to do with food.

to nourish: provide with substance necessary for growth, health, and good condition

to fill. to provide with sustenance. to enhance the quality of life. to drink a cup of tea. to hold something warm between the hands. to submerge the body in water. to take a bath and wash one's hair. to read. oh, to read! to challenge the mind. to call a friend. to crawl into bed. to make love. to date. to laugh. to see a film. to see the world--by boat or train or foot or through a camera lens. to do something of great risk with great love. to listen. to compose. to dance naked. to sit down to a good meal. to hear a child's footsteps against the wood floor.

to ask for help. to say no when no is what is needed. to live one's truth.

there are an infinite number of ways in which we can nourish ourselves. and to nourish one's self is to love one's self. it is to give and offer up love. it is to receive love. food is one form of nourishment, yes,  but just one. it is but a sliver of an ever-extending, all-encompassing sky.

i truly believe that when we figure out how to nourish ourselves--and the importance of it--we'll have begun the next great revolution. that will be how we change the world. that will be how we step back and see the whole of the picture. that will be when we begin to act with greater courage and greater love.

small acts, small kindnesses that we must first give to ourselves.

to feed the (soil) soul.

lets talk about food for a second. (and why i think the nyc calorie count law is not a good idea)

disclaimer: this information is not perfect.

it is rather, in my own words, as i understand it.

for more information on my battle against an eating

disorder, check my sidebar under

NED.

when i first met with dr. bob about, oh, a year-and-a-half ago, he said: no food is bad. no calorie is bad. calories keep us going. and if you're starving the calories in a twinkie are just as capable as saving your life as the calories in an avocado.

and then he went on to say, calories do not carry equal weight (no pun intended. well, kind of intended). 

what he meant was this: if you are eating normally (not starving yourself) it is perfectly reasonable to sit down and have a dinner consisting of 3,000 calories. the body, because it is fed enough each day, recognizes the unnecessary influx of calories and disposes of them quickly (essentially, the body doesn't need the calories, so it doesn't use them). meaning, after that luxurious and indulgent dinner, you might wake up in the middle of the night sweating (one of the ways in which the body rids itself of the calories quickly and painlessly). this is not to say that a 3,000+ calorie dinner should be consumed on a daily or even (relatively) regular basis. 

i'm not sure i can list all of the many steps i've undertaken in order to come to terms with and overcome (still working on this) my eating disorder. i do know  i have had a different focus (or priority) for each week. one week i made going to the gym a top priority. the next i tried to eat my food slowly. another, i drank copious amounts of water. 

however, from the very start i armed myself with knowledge and we all know they say knowledge is power and the thing is, they're right. 

so nyc passed a health provision requiring restaurants with 15+ outlets nationwide to post the caloric information on the menu in the same font and size as the item itself. so they're arming us with information. good, right? well, the thing is, they're arming us with the information they want us to have. calories are not the only (or even most important) factor, but counting calories feeds (pun definitely intended) into the billion dollar diet industry quite nicely. 

so, this is what i know. and this is why i believe calorie counting to be detrimental. eating less than 1,800 calories a day (over any consistent and extended period of time) is a way of starving your body. and it literally changes the way the body responds to food--the pleasure center shifts. suddenly sweets become much more appealing (because they have more calorie per square inch and since the body knows you want give it as much food as it needs, it tries to get the most bang for its buck). this is not to say a person who eats normally doesn't have about 1,200 calories some days. but the next they might have 2,200. the body balances it out. the body figures it out. the body is always maneuvering this tight-rope act and the body does not like when we get in it's way. because, guess what? the body is smarter than we are. 

i did weight watchers and ate about 1,000 calories a day. that's what they told me to do. i lost a lot of weight. and my poor body went into shock. i have spent four years trying to recover from those two months. 

i lost my period immediately. i told many a doctor about this. each told me not to worry. not one of them thought to look at my diet. 

i tried the cookie diet. i ate about 800 calories a day.

these are diets recommended by doctors. monitored by doctors. what's wrong with this picture?

in the end i don't even know how many fads and diets and tricks and torments i put my body through. these are the things i don't really talk about. these are the things that bring me shame.

when i did the cookie diet (for all of about a week--and to this day i can't even stomach the smell of balsamic vinegar, which i put on a bed of greens each night) i had to have several tests to ensure my body was up for it. the cost of the tests showed up on my insurance. that year when i retuned home for summer vacation, my mother pulled out the sheet and asked me what had happened (the cost, but not the details had been disclosed). honestly, i think she feared i'd aborted a pregnancy. that was a low point. 

so the government wants to deal with the issue of obesity? thank god, they need to deal with it. unfortunately they might just be going about it in the wrong way.

want to lose weight? honestly, do you want to count calories everyday for the rest of your life? if you can't honestly say yes, then it's never going to work. instead, eat real food. unprocessed food. fruits and vegetables and meat. foods that when you see the list of ingredients you can pronounce each one. wanna know why you should avoid mcdonalds? let me give you a hint...its not the 540 calories in a thing of fries, it's all the chemicals you can't pronounce. you want to know why the government isn't pushing this? because it would obliterate the food industry as we know it. 

dr. bob constantly gives this advice when interviewed for magazines and newspapers. his articles are published about 1/3 of the time. why so infrequently? because what he says stands in direct opposition to the advertisements that keep these publications afloat--you know, diet ads and potato chip ads and the like?

do you see now, it's a political issue. with the government fighting the lobbyists and no real change in sight. 

so it's up to you. arm yourself with information. figure out what works best for you and your family. if you have a meal that by itself is over the daily recommended intake, don't sweat it, because (guess what) if your eating normally you're body will sweat it out for you. no harm done.

FED: it's all in the family.

the other night when i called home i was chatting away with my mother when she suddenly became distracted.

your father's throwing acai berries at me, she explained.

i love this for so many reasons. for the fact that my parents still have fun together--think of it, flying food as proof of love!--and also because they were actually eating acai berries--oh how far we've all come since the days of oreos after dinner.

when i first began to uproot my eating patterns--cutting out meat, eating goji berries and mulberries, seeking out fair-trade foods and eco-concious restaurants--my meat and potato parents viewed this all a little wearily--or, at least, i feared they would.

(let me be clear: as a child i ate white bread. i pitied those forced to endure whole-wheat--oh the deprived childhoods they must lead, i thought.)

there's nothing harder than totally changing your eating habits and not having the support of those around you--so calling home and knowing my parents were eating chocolate covered acai berries--knowing that they're not just supportive in their words but in their actions--that is not lost on me. i realize that's not the norm. and i feel so unbelievably lucky.

in other (but related) news: i finally pulled out my babycakes cookbook and whipped up some vegan/gluten-free/sugar-free (it's sweetened with agave) banana bread. while finding some of the ingredients in whole foods proved tricker than usual, actually putting it all together was a breeze. and it was good--moist and good. and quickly eaten up when i offered it up to our version of craft-services on my last day of shooting.

the post that didn't happen today. and left us with this.

i was going to do a post today entitled:

physique 57: the three month update


because yes, i've been doing it for three months. can you believe that? i can't. it feels like weeks. or years. but not three months.

and the post was going to be a fed (and remission of ned) update. because they're all connected--exercise and food and mental acuity, or some such.

but alas. the post did not happen.

and i'm sitting here typing this with a bag of ice under my left foot wondering if i have a deeply pulled muscle in the ball of my foot. or if it's a stress fracture. and please God, don't let it be a stress fracture.

(and maybe i have some cream on my upper lip to curb the encroaching female lip hair {read: mustache}). too much sharing? oh man, i'm never gonna find someone willing to tolerate this crazy.

and the laundry that i was meant to do a week ago is just now in the washer.

i'm thinking at the end of this month i might throw a party just to celebrate january's inevitable end (and it is inevitable, right?).

that is all for today. pathetic, i know.

i leave you with a gratuitous self-portrait. (because i read somewhere that people who constantly take photos of themselves end up looking the best on camera because they learn all their angles and how to be confident and yada, yada, yada...and because i have this thing (read: tremendous fear) of having my picture taken i've been working on it...

anywhoo.

see you back here tomorrow for the physique update?

fed: product placement

i woke up exhausted this morning. so exhausted that after i poured my first cup of coffee, i left the coffee maker on, knowing i might go back for a second.

today will be hard. the hardest day of the week. from job number one to job number two. all day. and i will be wiped. and when i reach this level of exhaustion i tend to overeat. i know this now. i didn't know this before. i'd be eating and eating and eating and think, why am i eating? and after a lot of work and the help of some very smart people i was able to identify that i sometimes mix the signals (read: very often mix the signals). in fact, i would say, eighty percent of the time when i'm overeating and i'm not sure why (meaning it's not anxiety or fear or trying to push away some uncomfortable emotion--or the inevitable i'll-eat-more-because-i've-already-eaten-so-much guilt) it is exhaustion or thirst. crossed-wires if you will.

so today i just know that i need to be aware. and a little careful.

i've already promised myself a cab ride home tonight (ah, the luxury) and a saturday morning of sleeping in for however long i'd like--the promise of these things will help me avoid any kind of a meltdown (i hope).

but until then i'd thought i'd share some products i really like--products that taste good, make me feel good, and keep me on a healthy track.

i'm a snacker. this much you should know. if given the chance, i'd nosh on snacks always. so, many of these fall into that snack category...




when i get that urge for chocolate, instead of reaching for the bag of m&ms' i head to whole foods for these bad boys. because then i satisfy the chocolate craving and sneak a little fruit in a long the way: goji berries! (i also enjoy the chocolate covered mulberries). be forewarned: they are very expensive (like 4 dollars for a bag) but i don't get them everyday.

i love these chik'n patties. they make for such an easy lunch or dinner. put on a bun, bagel, or bread of any kind with a little ketchup, they satisfy the burger queen within. i despise (despise!!) any kind of faux meat products made from soy, which these are not. on a side note: if in new york city and in need of a good veggie burger i suggest 5 napkin burger or hillstone {known as houston's almost anywhere else in the country}.

i love the texture of barbara's oatmeal snackimals. animal crackers with a twist, i say!

remember when i made my infamous ice cream pie? i used four ice cream pints--three of which were stonyfield nonfat frozen yogurt. they taste quite good and the plain and vanilla and chocolate variety have only 100 calories per serving (meaning the whole pint is only 400 calories). now, let me be clear, i don't believe in counting calories--in fact, i loathe it and find it damaging. but when i bring a pint of ice cream home--there is always the chance i might eat the whole thing in one sitting (i know, i know, i'm working on it). but with these bad boys, when i eat the whole thing at least i know i haven't done some huge disservice to my body. 

have you had pop chips yet? i love them (most especially the sea salt and vinegar variety!). unlike most low calorie foods these bad boys pack a punch and don't leave that odd and elusive empty taste in your mouth.



alrighty, that's all for now. happy snacking! (ignore the strange layout--i struggle when working with small images).

life slice #5.

lying there, wide awake as he slept, she angled herself close, put her nose right up under his mouth. and there she remained, all night, fed by the sweet breath that sleep slipped out.

fed: a goal for the week

i believe in making small goals. each week. little things: more water, an apple a day, and on and on and such and such.

eventually these goals build on each other. they snowball (and tis' the season, right?).

i returned from thanksgiving with a terrible case of the homesick-blues and just ever-so-slightly in a state of sugar shock.

i didn't feel as though i overrate this thanksgiving holiday, but i certainly ate more than normal. this is not to say i regret one thing i put in my body or that i'd change anything. the holidays is a time to indulge in things you might not normally have. why not?! i say!

but i do believe in balance (i am a libra, after all). 

and returning to my own home, and my own kitchen, and my own city today i felt the need to balance my sugar-shock with something else.

so i set a goal.

this week i will reach for the unusual. i will step out of my comfort zone in terms of healthy foods. i won't rely on my old standbys.

so this morning i pulled the yellow bowl from my favorite set of dishes. in it i put a small container of greek yogurt (not using greek yogurt as a sour-cream-substitute {but as actual yogurt} is a big thing for me), blackberries, walnuts, and a little go lean crunch.

and then lunch found me at the whole foods bar noshing on red quinoa and an endive salad. i hated it at first, thought what have i done? but the more i noshed the more i felt my body thank me. 

when i eat things that are really good for me (nutritionally speaking) i feel space open up within me. perhaps it's an imagined thing, but it's marvelous nonetheless. it as though my chest becomes a cavity filled with light and space and energy (am i getting too new age-y yet?). 

so, do tell...have you a goal for the week? ( i want to know wether it's to write more often in your journal or sign up for the nearest singles's dodgeball league).

FED: small victories. and shifting priorities!

i took the bus back from new jersey in the late afternoon on satuday. i wanted to take a physique class before the delicious quiet and day of rest that is sunday.

i don't remember much about the class. except that, it was crowded and i stood next to some girl who must have been a dancer. i know this because when we were working on our seats (butts and surrounding territory) and we have to shoot our leg out from the side of our body and mine starting shaking and didn't want to get anywhere close to the necessary position she just popped her's right out there. i mean...it was like...shoop. and i was like...oh, shit.

but what strikes me most about that class is that afterwards i devoured my post-class-new-tradition green apple.

i don't like apples. they're not my thing. never have been. but the studio has them in a glass bowl and i know that they're good for me and (let's be honest) wanting to get my money's worth, i always grab one. i usually suffer through about half of it. suffer, no? but survive. i eat as much as i can handle. and then i move one.

but on saturday evening i was thirsty. really thirsty. and i'd just read some article about eating more water (yes, eating) and knowing those little green suckers were chock-a-block full of the stuff i reached for one, sunk my teeth in, and oh the delicious juice-filled-thing that it was! i enjoyed it in the lobby, waiting for the elevator, during the ride down to the street.

one one of the eight floors between physique and the lobby another girl hopped on--she too with green apple in hand. i recognized her from class. i wasn't (and still am not) sure why she was on another floor and my confusion led way to conversation. and she asked me how long i'd been taking classes and where i come from to get there. and then of course, the question that everyone asks, had i seen results. 


and i understand the question. i do. i get it.

i politely side-stepped it with, you know. yes, i'm sure. but i'm trying very hard not to focus on that.

what i really wanted to say was, i'm enjoying this apple! loving it, in fact! i'm halfway to the core, my usual stopping-spot, and i'm gonna keep going. this is the success--this is the result--this green apple, right here, and my LOVE for it! 


there's always a moment in class when the instructor asks us to reconnect with the reason we came today. asks us to imagine how we want our seat to look in our jeans--how long and lean we want our arms to be and on and on and such and such. and i'm inevitably the girl in the corner, pulsing my squats--legs shaking away--thinking: bone density, bone density. i'm building bone density! or my heart, my heart. i'm strengthening my heart--reducing my risk for heart disease, obesity, diabetes and on and on and such and such.


don't get me wrong. i want those long, lean limbs. and yes, i want the seat that looks dang good in my blue jeans. but if that's what i think about in that moment that class gets really hard, well, i'd stop. because those reasons alone are just not good enough. they just don't do it for me. but, my health? well, that's another story all together. hell, i'd pulse those squats to kingdom-come to keep my heart pulsin' on its own.

and so i may not be able to measure how how much bone density i've gained, but i can see how my love for a green apple has shifted. and holy moly, that's something.

FED: my five-point roadmap

i've said this before and i'll say it again. i thought the end of my eating disorder would come with the speed and force of a mack truck. (in a good way). 

i figured i'd be waking across the street, a sudden impulse would prompt me to turn and then

and it'd be over. done. and i'd be free.

turns out it hasn't really happened that way.


it has been inches. slow crawling inch after slow crawling inch.

when this recent funk hit i took a deep breath, thought, been there, done that, then realized my familiarity with the thing was not a get out of jail free pass. took a longer inhale, getting air into the space between my toes and reminded myself that this too shall pass. only then did i go about doing everything my capable little hands could do to crawl and claw my way out of the trench.


my version of trench warfare? full fat mochas (they feel luxurious and indulgent--make me think i'm on vacation). afternoon tea with girlfriends. indulging in massages at that place on 80th that sections of the tables with nothing more than clothes lines and bed sheets. painted red nails. a trip to boston. hurtling down icy northeastern ski-slopes. tickets to see noah and the whale. and investing in a very lovely, lovely cannon (i may not be able to crawl out of this funk, but perhaps i can photograph from within it?).


and so it has gone for the last six weeks: a funk. and so it goes. deep and encompassing. an overriding sense of apathy. and a feeling of claustrophobia--suffocating in my own skin.


and yet.


it's been bearable (as most funks prove to be).


and even a little exhilarating. exhilarating, you ask?


yes.


because the eating disorder (ned) has been so quiet.


yes it's still there. but somehow now it's not so important.


in the past the funk would come. and i would eat. and the eating disorder would quickly spiral. and the feelings and sensations that would follow i would label as such: that pesky ned, rearing his disastrous, hellish head once more.


but this go round the feelings and sensations came and the eating disorder didn't.


illumination. for better or for worse, illumination.


and another step forward.

a little while back a reader emailed asking for advice in dealing with her own eating disorder. in replying to the email i realized i was mapping my own little trail of recovery. and because i am slightly better and because it was national eating disorder week just two weeks ago and because why not? i thought i'd share:  so here goes. my five-point road map to mental health:


1. get help. find a therapist. a really, really, really good one. one who specializes in eating and weight disorders. (i can't emphasize this enough. if nothing else, please get help). it is unbelievably difficult to deal with an eating disorder, but to struggle alone is nearly crushing.


in looking for help, trust your gut. i sought out medical professional after medical professional before i found one who could give me a correct diagnosis. (two doctors, and four therapist--the fifth therapist was able to diagnose me, and the sixth (tom) literally gave me life back). there is a huge amount of mis-information and lack of information out there regarding eating disorders and not everyone who should be able to help can. 

2. figure out how food can be about more than just necessity. and more than just pleasure. for me the decision to become a vegetarian was an easy and practical (and meaningful, might i add) way to make food bigger than myself--it took some of the selfishness i was struggling with out of the equation. i do recognize that going vegetarian isn't for everyone. may i suggest volunteering at a food bank or soup kitchen? reacacquaint yourself with what it means to really need a warm meal--and fill yourself up in the process (i find goodwill much more filling than any of the many flavors of ben and jerry's--and i've tried them all, so i should know).

3. fall in love with kitchen. or try. at least, try.

i don't love to cook. but i'm working on it. it began with my hour long bake potato. from there i figured out that cinnamon in tomato-basil soup is delightful. i now make a mean vegan banana bread and pretty darn good raw chocolate chip cookie (made from cashews and oatmeal). making your own food is good for you--studies have been done indicating that when you make your own food and there is some time and process involved, you end up eating less because you fill up faster. i like that my baked potato takes an hour to make--i don't want to shorten that process. 

4. experiment, experiment...in life. do things you don't want to do. that you wouldn't usually do. go to a party. flirt with a guy. take risks on a daily basis (they don't have to be big). wear those skinny black pants before you're ready. exercise in spandex (even if you feel naked in them the first few times). take someone up on an invitation even if you're afraid you won't know anyone else. 

5. and exercise. (for the mental aspect of it). i can't emphasize this enough. i've been exercising consistently for years now. but it took going to physique for me to really get all the benefits that exercise has to offer. yes, in part because physique is tremendously good for the body--but more because it challenged my mind--forced me so far out of my comfort zone and provided my mind with a whole new set of skills to tackle. for me it elevated exercise form something i had to do to something of a personal practice. and the most important thing i've taken away (even more important than increased bone density) is the knowledge that it gets easier. pain changes and morphs. and everything, every sensation passes. in life to. exercise as metaphor! meaning all those pesky sensations and emotions that i would attempt to self-medicate by binge eating would pass if i just gave them time enough--lived through them.  

this list is by no means comprehensive or all-inclusive. there are so many other things i could include like recognizing patterns and identifying those aforementioned pesky emotions, but much of those things can be done with the help of a really great therapist. and if you are really, truly in the throws of an eating disorder, or even if you're struggling with disordered eating, i can't recommend finding help enough.


also, know this: i still struggle. often. i have good days and bad days and in-between days. i eat too much sugar and too much processed food. i'm not a whiz in the kitchen. and the last month i've found it much more difficult to get to exercise class. i still strive for perfection when i know--in my bones, i know--that perfection and the pursuit of it is not good for my health. but i am better. and i continue to get better. and that is something to celebrate and applaud.


small victories. small victories.

FED: a few thoughts from this week

i have come to realize that how i feel about my body is in large part related to the quality of food i consume.**

meaning the better the food, the better i think i look...oh, the vanity!

i've not been making great choices lately. and it's not that i've been choosing terrible foods, it's more that i haven't been choosing good foods.

good is a tricky word. what i mean by it is food that provides my body with nutrients, vitamins, energy, the promise of a long-life (or some such).

for me healthy-eating is not the default setting. it has to be a constant, front-of-the-foot motion. the weighing of all options and the active choice (again and again and again) to eat well.

and when i allow ease and convenience to supersede other needs, well,  then processed foods tend to win out and it's a slow, downward spiral that leaves me feeling just-a-little-bit-off.

i forget sometimes that food isn't just for pleasure. sometimes i have to eat something even if i don't love it.

yesterday morning i pulled the cottage cheese from the back of my fridge. it had yet to be opened. sigh. i checked the expiration date to make sure it was still in the realm of won't-make-me-too-sick and then proceeded to pile it on a slice of whole wheat toast. let's be honest. i really love my trader joe's tuscan white bread. and i really love it with butter. and cottage cheese on whole wheat--not. my. favorite. but it's good for me. really good for me. (ps: cottage cheese is unbelievably high in protein so for anyone who doesn't eat meat it is a cheap, effective way to keep the body going).

so i had my cottage cheese on whole wheat bread. and immediately i felt better. it was as though space arose within me. does that make any sense? not to me either, but that was the sensation--and one that i could spend the rest of my life chasing because it was just that good.

and i spent the rest of my day attempting to make good choices. a peanut butter and banana smoothie from GNC. a faux chicken patty for lunch. followed by yogurt. and a mediterranean wrap from a new health bar on 72nd (so not tasty, but at least i got some veggies in, right?). pop chips and almonds.

the danger in feeling like i haven't been eating well is that it makes me nervous. yes, i get nervous. in fact, i have a tendency to panic. and inevitably i try to autocorrect--that's my impulse, always. but as anyone who has an iphone knows, autocorrect gets it wrong more often than not.

i was walking down broadway thinking about my food choices and i longed for some confirmation that i had been good enough. good enough? what does that even mean? it's such a dangerous thought, such an unhealthy phrase. but it made clear why diets are so seductive: diets take all the guesswork out. they make the picture black and white. either you've been good enough. or you haven't. there's no uncertainty. but life is not black and white. there is uncertainty. period.

diets don't work because a person can't chart their life in black and white forever.

and the thing is, if you can't do it forever. it just won't work. fin. end of story.

**the important thing to remember (for me, just as much as anyone else) is that the food i put in my body is only a fraction of the story. how i think i look depends on so many different things--most of which i can't control. but what it really comes down to is happiness--or at least the pursuit of it. so a weekly bouquet of flowers, a morning coffee, dressers over-flowing with freshly-laundered shirts, and clean bedroom (a bed made each morning, included)--these daily niceties determine my view of myself just as much as whether i choose to reach for that second cupcake or not.**

and an interesting note: our body weight fluctuates by six pounds each day. meaning at any given moment we might be up six or down six and it has nothing to do with what we've eaten or whether or not the bed made was made in the morning. weight, is in fact... wait for it... random. feed on that.

two months. six years.

i don't know that i've ever felt so beautiful as i did this past summer.

something shifted and i felt myself living in my body, breathing as a relatively normal person, and thinking, alright, here goes...

and then came september. and october. and november.

and all i could think was oh, shit.

i felt so low. so deep and blue and bruised.

even after all this time i often lack the courage to use the right words. and so i use other words. sadness. i'm feeling blue, i say. to make it palatable, understandable, manageable.

one of my dearest friends, over a cup of coffee, looked right at me and said, we all get blue, meg. that's life. we all have those moments. 

and i knew what she meant and i love her dearly and think her wiser than almost anyone i know, so i closed my mouth, sipped my coffee, and directed the conversation to... something else, anything else. men, probably.

but what i should have said is this: i can handle the blue. i can handle the sad. i don't live in it, i let it pass through. it's this damn eating disorder. it's something all-together, entirely different and it's suffocating. do you understand that? that i'm slowly panicking over here in this corner, and that i'm only ever (at best) two paces from losing it?

it slipped back in this fall. slinked and seeped right through the fissures and fault lines that living a courageous and open life invites. the thing is, to live courageously, to thrash about in the unknown, to stand on the brink, to look down and breathe deeply, these are the things that make one well. in the long run, these are the things that make one well, i know this.

but on the road to well is not-so-well and really-really-really-not-well and a lot of pit stops in between. and it’s exhausting.

it was back in november that i took down the link from the sidebar.

it was back in november that i went home for a week. last minute. unexpected.

why did you take the link down from the side of your blog? my mother asked in one of those talks we had in the car, paused in a parking lot, me crying, her helpless—as any good parent in that situation is. she sat and she listened and cried with me and then asked me that.

because i don’t want that story to define me. i’m done with everyone knowing.

i don’t remember what her response was, but i remember about a month later climbing the hill from my apartment here in new york and having the though: it only defines me if i say it defines me. only with my consent. it is as big or as small as i allow it to be.

and when i’m doing well, as i am most of the time, it’s just as big as i need it to be, which is to say, not at all.

but back in november, the shadow it cast was large and unforgiving. and for a moment there i lost my footing.

everyone i loved told me to let it go. stop thinking about it so much. but i was determined to really know the thing this go round. if i was gonna be stuck in the middle of it I was gonna study it from the inside out and i'd be damned if i didn't emerge just a little bit wiser about the whole thing. 

back in college we studied the alexander technique. it is a method of learning about and freeing the body. it has to do with posture and energy and blockages and is tremendously helpful for actors. one of the things you do is trace your body. meaning you, or a partner, feels along the ridges of the collarbone or the shoulder blade or some such--it's meant to help you know the anatomy of the body--to feel the whole size and breadth of each part. 

one of the hallmarks of an eating disorder is something called body checking. we most of us do it without even realizing--little things like checking our reflection in the store window or taking note that our pants are a little bit tighter today. but back when i was was really unwell i checked by body often and in strange ways. like feeling for my collarbone--checking to make sure it was there--judging my weight, my worth by that bone alone. or using my middle finger and thumb to see if they could wrap around my wrist. comparison was the hallmark of the body checking. is this easier to do today? can i feel the bone more easily today? i'd ask myself. when i returned to my second year of school having lost nearly twenty pounds from my frame (two months on weight watchers) i remember thinking, it'll be so much easier to trace my body in alexander this year. 

oh boy. big red flag. 

when i did weight watchers i lost three pounds the first week. and two pounds the week after that. and two just about each week following. and each week i defined myself not by my weight, but by my loss. by the space between. i’m seven pounds less this week, i’d think. seven less than when i began. i’d study my body in the mirror carefully take stock of the changes. my face looked leaner. my collarbone protruded a bit more. this dress fit better than the last time i tried it on. it was never just this dress looks good, it was better than. comparison to a past moment. the difference, the subtraction. 

comparison. always, always comparison. comparison isn't just the thief of joy, it is the thief of the present moment and the slippery slope to what feels awfully akin to insanity. 

the body is a constantly changing thing so if you keep trying to look for the changes and is it different and maybe it’s not—you loose your footing quickly and you stop seeing it at all. everything’s refracted, distorted, and you lose the sense of which way’s up, which down. it’s a tremendously confusing and terrible way to live your life.

now there is a chance that someone, somewhere is reading this thinking: she lost twenty pounds on weight watchers? okay, that's what i'll do then. and off that person'll trudge to a meeting and they'll count points and follow the plan and they'll lose weight too. 

so let me be very clear in how i say this: i did weight watchers for two months. i lost twenty pounds. and i  spent the next six years paying the price. 

two months. six years. do the math. 

and i followed the plan. i ate the twenty points each day. twenty points was roughly 1,000 calories. 1,000 calories each day is starvation. period. 

weight watchers was recommended to me by my pediatrician. 

i think i've lost track of why i began writing this post.  something to do with comparison. how coming out of of this last bout of blue had much to do with waking each morning and making the active choice to not study myself in the mirror or lift my shirt to check the flatness of my stomach.

and to put the sidebar (FED) back up. 

ps:

dear dara lynn-weiss, perhaps you should consider telling your daughter this.

(oh yeah, i have a few choice thoughts for that woman and anyone who thinks she did her daughter a service, but we'll get there next week).


and on another note: i don't know that i've ever opened this forum up to questions regarding my personal journey regarding eating and health. so if you do have questions or suggestions for posts, please don't hesitate to comment and ask.