Showing posts with label Exercise. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Exercise. Show all posts

Monday, May 16, 2011

Eat It, Just Eat It

Thaaaat's how CF is defeeeeaaattteeeedd. 

Kinda.

Warning, it's a long one. (shock). But it's worth it, I swear  I hope. 

One of the things I struggle with most - in "normal life" and my "CF life" - is paralyzing perfectionism. I have a hard time accepting less than perfect execution of pretty much anything I do; not just public things, but everything (though a fear/awareness of eventual judgement in the case of the public things does ratchet up the pressure a bit more). However, I am also (mostly) rational, and on some level, aware that what I not only *would like* from myself, but actually *expect* of myself is, for all intents and purposes, impossible. Therefore, I plan, and I research, and I ruminate, and I make charts, and "productively stall" to keep from actually beginning my idea, and therefore, put off failing at my idea. 

I have lots of ideas. Therefore, I am an excellent researcher. And planner. And chart-maker and filing-system-creator and notebook-organizer.  

But eventually, even I get frustrated and overwhelmed with all of the notebooks and systems and charts, and want to actually get started, God help me. So I throw myself ONE HUNDRED AND THIRTY SEVEN PERCENT! into whatever the plan (plans?) de jour may be, and they are executed WITH ABSOLUTE PERFECTION!

For approximately ninety-six hours. 

I then huddle in the corner (figureatively speaking - mostly) for at least another forty-eight hours, overcome with shame for my massive failure as a human being in all capacities. Or so my brain says. 

See what a yo-yo of compliance this creates? It's only made worse (for me, at least) by the seeming impossibly high stakes of failure, particularly in regards to my health. I have had just enough experiences of screwing up "just a little" resulting in significant, permanent damage to my health to have this notion of anything short of perfection as failure really strongly reinforced. And a lot of the rhetoric in the online CF community, while intended as motivating and encouraging, only piles on to my anxiety about failing to do everything perfectly all the time leading to a sudden and painful death, that even worse, I will be blamed for bringing on myself.  

Irony of ironies? I get so overwhelmed and scared that I end up doing nothing. Taking lots of naps, swearing to change and take over the world. In an hour. When I wake up refreshed. And eating lots of snacks, because hey! I have CF! Eating, eating is good! Right?

So when I really, truly, seriously, for keeps this time decided to get serious about a long-term "lifestyle change" rather than a metaphorical crash diet of nebs and running and tofu, I did some real research. Not the stall-y, fact-binging, intellectual hoarding kind that has left me well-equipped for Jeopardy! but not so much for actual living, but calm, measured, "what has worked for others? will this work for me?" planning and research. I knew that I had to figure out a way to strike a balance and continue to pursue excellence, but cut myself some slack and take off the pressure of perfection if I had any hope of maintaining this long-term.

Moreover, I had to decide for myself what my health-related priorities would be - not what "the CF community" had embraced as important, not what "society" writ large emphasized, not what my parents recommended, not even just what my doctors said (though their thoughts did have heavier weight than some others).  What health patterns make ME feel better, and what health patterns make me FEEL better? Physically, psychologically - what activities do I most strongly correlate with a feeling of whole-being sustained health? That's where I needed to start.

And for me, that wasn't lacing up my tennis shoes. It was eating.

In my calm research, I ran across Healthy Tipping Point - coincidentally, not long after the author, Caitlin, had injured herself and was unable to run for a while, and was therefore focusing less on EXERCISE IS GREAT! and more on HOW TO NOT FEEL LIKE A COUCH POTATO SLOB WHILE INJURED. One post, "The Emotional Side of Injury", served as a total, light-bulb, "aha" moment. Among other things, she writes:

"Don’t Fall Into the 'All or Nothing Trap':  Actually, I think this is the biggest takeaway lesson about healthy living, period.  You do not have to be all or nothing.  If you cannot exercise, you can still eat well and do all the other things necessary for health.  It is really easy to throw up your hands and say, “Oh, screw it!” and completely fall off the bandwagon for two months.  And honestly, I personally believe that healthy eating is way more important for your general health than exercise (it’s very difficult to “outwork” bad eating habits, as Miranda said on Twitter this morning), so if you can’t exercise for three months, you’re not going to be become a lump.  Look at your injury as an new opportunity to really focus on fueling your body with nutritionally-dense, whole foods, like lots of veggies, fruits, whole grains, etc.   Remember your body needs healthy foods so it can heal your injury quickly."

Beyond the obvious theme of  "Don't Fall Into the 'All or Nothing Trap'", her exaltation of healthy eating as being equally if not more important than exercise, struck such a cord with me. I'm not sidelined from all exercise by an injury, but being so out of shape means that I'm starting reeeeallly slowly, and I don't think I'm getting much real physical benefit from my walks and yoga yet, beyond setting the habits of doing them. Most of all, though, exercise has always been my Achilles heel of CF self-care, mostly because for me, it is the element I can least predict and control. Even when I was at my most consistent a few years ago, I never knew from day to day whether a workout would invigorate and energize me, or leave me wheezing, in pain, and exhausted. I've had hemoptysis in the middle of the street while walk/running, without so much as a kleenex (let alone a phone) to deal with it. So I'm a little apprehensive about exercising to the degree that my lungs (supposedly) benefit most, and even when I overcome my fears and do it, on a practical level, I kind of can't predict how it's going to affect the rest of my day. 

But guess what I can control? What I put in my mouth. And guess what makes a HUGE difference in how I feel almost immediately? Not eating tons of sugar and processed crap. Guess what else? actually eating lots of whole foods that naturally contain the vitamins and nutrients I need, instead of box o' mac with a side of pills to compensate. 

Before I go any further, a HUGE caveat: I am NOT talking to or about people who are doing all they can to pound 10,000 calories temporarily to avoid a feeding tube, or get their weight back up after an exacerbation, or to a certain extent, growing kids. I am also in no way judging people for whom healthy eating is an self-care Achilles heel. We've all been there, when all that matters is getting the most calories possible into every bite, and celery, even with ranch or pimento cheese, ain't gonna cut it. 

However - I am saying that there is simply too much evidence, scientific and anecdotal, to refute that processed crap (or in our case, over-reliance on processed crap) is a net loss for our overall health. Inflammation is such a key issue for so many of us, and this stuff is just gas in the inflammatory tank. I hear you, you need your mac n' cheese. Take the time to make it yourself - I guarantee it will have *at least* as many calories as the powdered-cheese-in-an-envelope kind, is just as easily bulked up ad the boxed stuff, and is made with actual, real food. Enchiladas? Good lord, what a homemade softball. Stir-fry? Right down the center - fat AND salt! Veggies can be dipped in homemade salad dressings, cheese spreads, bean dips, and the like, or can be roasted with a little garlic, rosemary and olive oil requiring little-to-no effort. For major CF points, they too can be really quickly stir-fried with some butter and soy sauce, then dipped in a quick, easy, mayo-based shrimp sauce. 

Just like the exercise fiends say, it's simply about making it a priority and making the time.  Admittedly, I have a penchant for playing around in the kitchen, just like a lot of workout fiends actually used to play and enjoy sports - I can't imagine. But what really makes eating healthfully an ideal starting point for me is that not only is food and nutrition more predictably controllable than exercise, it is literally the most efficient investment you can make in your health - CF or not. Medicines cost money. You have to make time for exercise. But seriously - no matter what, you are going to eat. Since you have to eat anyway, why not go for the option that not only sustains you, but that actually helps and nurtures you? With CF some part of us, if you think about it, is always "injured" to some degree or another. And there are foods, more and more foods every day, that are being demonstrated to actually help our bodies heal themselves. Even Unknown Cystic, king of the McGriddle, wrote a whole post in praise of broccoli. It's just a matter of retraining your palate, just like retraining your muscles - it takes a little adjustment, but it's worth it in the end.

So start small - seriously, do not clean out your pantry, do not go on a raw food cleanse. Have water (or lemonade, it's great for CF kidneys) with dinner instead of soda. Experiment with MAKING your favorite tried-and-true, bulk-up trash food. Swap out a chips/cookies/other out of the bag snack for a sandwich (or fruit and some cheese or peanut butter) instead. And just like training for a 5k (or a mile around the block), keep adding more until you've reached your goal - whether that be a clean eating overhaul, or simply quitting a certain food or foods.

But don't be fooled - trash in, trash out isn't just about um, your fondness of Ke$ha. 

Monday, January 12, 2009

More to Come...

...but it's late, and I'm tired. Just wanted to remind myself and the handful of folks out there who might be paying attention that I am not abandoning this thing. And toot my own horn; part of the reason this thing has been so neglected the last week or so is that I've had this same ridiculous quasi-migraine that kicks in about an hour/hour and a half after I wake up and leaves me pretty much debilitated unless I'm laying down in a dark and silent room...which leaves me about as productive as being debilitated. Same stuff as last post, no new solutions, just pockets of time where I'm in "annoying" rather than "excruciating" pain and can accomplish things. And as of late, such pockets are so small and rare that they rarely leave room for "update blog."


Nevertheless, I ventured out on a walk this evening - partly for the sake of my poor dog, and more for the sake of my lovely, selfless father who has been walking Cooper for me, but is understandably becoming increasingly frustrated with only seeing his daughter prone, with an eyemask. So I decide to join them. In my gimpy absence, my Dad and my dog have conquered the world on foot. Or at least the neighborhood...the beautiful, large, hilly, neighborhood. And yet! I soldier on, undeterred (and clinging to the fact that I can always just turn around and come home by myself if I begin to, I don't know, vomit). But I'm walking along - at a rather clippy pace, to keep up with faja - chattering on about law school, and the future, and you lovely people, and politics, and who knows or cares what else...and all of the sudden, we're walking up the 18th cart path and I see the back of my house! I made it, the whole, hilly, fast-paced, gradual-but-eternal-incline, cold-for-the-carolinas, at-least-a-mile stretch of it! After at least a week of virtually uninterrupted sedentary face-burying, rising only to vest, neb, eat, and urinate, I got out and exercised and didn't die! Even my hard-ass, can't-sit-still Dad was impressed that I didn't collapse. It was just so nice after a week of feeling like I will never wake up and be able to hit the ground running again to be so pleasantly surprised by my body's physical capabilities. More on that later, inspired by a PiperPost.

And another note to self... I really need to start dating. I'm so rusty I don't even know where to begin, and if "The Bachelor" is any indication of what is required by the whole ridiculous process, I'm thinking Cooper may just stay the love of my life. I mean, look at this face, how can you not love it back?


That's all for now; I'm off to bed...with the aforementioned furry bundle of love. Eat your hearts out, boys (ha!)