I'M OVERWEIGHT!

 I'M OVERWEIGHT!


 That's right, OVERWEIGHT.  I never thought I would be happy to be overweight.  Actually, I have spent years of my life in the past, dogging myself and over-critiquing my body, thinking I was "overweight" when in actuality, I was not. 

Before we get into the reason for my excitement, let me clear some things up: yes, I know that we should be happy in the skin we're in.  Yes, I know that a BMI test does not test muscle mass, the size of your heart, or your self-worth.  Yes, I have seen the Special K commercial where the scale says sweet things when you step on it.  Well guess what?  I don't have that scale, and I'm not that warm and fuzzy.  Anyone can say that they don't really care what the scale says, and if you ask me, I think they're fibbing.  I think almost EVERYONE cares what the scale says.  And if you don't you should.  Not as a be-all, end-all measurement, but a "I'm doing something right," or "I may need to work on something," or even a "something may be wrong" measurement.  Skinny people worry about the scale because they may want to gain weight.  Bodybuilders and weight lifters consult the scale to see if they've made an numerically measurable gains.  Obese and overweight people consult the scale to see if they've lost or gained a few.  Maybe it doesn't dictate your life, but you care. 

So here I am, three years into a pretty intense health commitment to myself, to get healthy and strong, and to lose these "extra" 47 pounds I've gained with Hashi's.  I started at 216 pounds (well, technically I "started" at 169 pounds, but then gained up to my 216).  I was OBESE.  At 5'8, I was, honestly, pretty comfortable at 169.  I exercised regularly, ran good healthy numbers, still looked good in a swim suit, and had a little extra in all the right places.  So when I began this journey in August of 2011, I was dead-set on losing that 47 pounds.  And that was it.  I didn't really care if I got stronger or healthier.  I just. wanted. to lose. the weight. 

And so it began.  I went to spin class five times a week.  I ran on the treadmill before spin to get "warmed up."  I joined Weight Watchers and counted points until I couldn't think of counting anything else.  And I lost 21 pounds in a year.  It was by far, the hardest 21 pounds I have ever lost, every single one of them.  The pounds did not just drop off like they used to, they inched off.  Crept off.  Slow as molasses.  I had never had to lose that much before--maybe a pound here, a few pounds there, but never a big chunk like that.  I had a whole new appreciation for people who lost tens of pounds.  It took serious self-discipline and dedication, and I was proud of myself, 195 and proud.  Never thought I'd see that day that I was so proud to be 195.  When Weight Watchers and spin class was no longer doing the trick, I enlisted the help of Christie Nix, of FitNix fame.  By that point, I had gained a few pounds BACK (thank you, Hashimoto's), and was seriously depressed about it.  I was becoming OBSESSED with losing weight.  I HAD to be 169 again, and I'd take even less than 169, if I could get it.  So I began working with Christie, and something strange happened.  It wasn't all of a sudden, but gradually, I began to care more about how I felt and how much I could lift and what my body could do, rather than the number on the scale.  I stayed committed, and watched my body change shape, even when the scale didn't move.  I learned how to love myself again, without association with a number or what everyone else looked like.  And it felt good.
Fast forward to now, October 2014, and I'm still committed.  I've completely cleaned up my diet.  I've eliminated the foods that my body (and my Hashimoto's) can't tolerate.  I'm careful and committed to getting my fruits and veggies and good protein in.  I train hard and often.  And I can honestly say, I don't really get on the scale all that much.  I don't really care what it has to say.  The only numbers I really care about are on dumbbells and my blood work labs.  But last week at the doctor's office, the nurse asked me to step on the scale.  And I did.  And I didn't make the excuses that I used to before, as the numbers crept up, or feel the need to tell the story about why I weigh this much.  On the top of the digital scale, there is a strip of light going from green to red, with yellow in between, green being "Normal" (whatever than means) and red being "Obese."  As I stood there, I watched the little arrow go to the middle of the yellow, "overweight" area.  Standing there, I thought about how the me three years ago would have probably gone to the restroom and cried, and then harped on the fact that I was overweight.  But not this me.  This me knows how hard it's been to get from obese to overweight.  All the blood, sweat, and tears (literally all three) that I have let go of during this journey.  I cannot describe to you how good it felt to read that scale.  "Overweight" never sounded so good.  Crazy, right?  Know why it sounded good?  Because I'm doing everything I can do to be the best me possible.  I exercise, eat right, take my supplements, I RELAX, and stay up on all my Hashimoto's info.  So if I'm overweight, so be it.  There was a time I was obese.  Everyone starts somewhere, it's just where you let it that counts. 

4 Reasons Why Autoimmune Disease Makes You a Recluse

Really?  Really.  If we took a time machine back about seven years ago, my life looked vastly different than it does now.  I loved everything social--nights out with friends, gatherings at my house, coffee dates in the morning, you name it, I wanted to be there.
And all of a sudden, my desire to be a part of all those things came to an abrupt stop.  Not by choice, I woke up one morning, and didn't feel like getting out of bed.  When I was invited out to dinner, I would make excuses as to why I couldn't make it.  And although they were excuses, they were legitimate.  I was too tired, had too much to get done, needed to get ready for the next week.  The excuses went on and on.  And all of those were true. 

1.  Just too tired.
I was too tired because I had become an insomniac.  Right when my body would allow me to fall asleep (usually around 6am), my alarm was telling me to get up.  I had too much to get done because I spent most of my day catching up from the day before, things that I'd had on my to-do list, but just couldn't muster the energy to do.  I needed to get ready for the next week because I knew at some point, I would "miss" one, two, or maybe three days due to fatigue, migraines, joint pain, brain fog, or all four. 



2.  Anxiety
On the rare occasion that I actually DID go out with friends or venture to do something outside of my new "norm", I was always met with opposition.  Suddenly, my usual "social butterfly" personality had now taken a turn for the opposite.  In anticipation of a social gathering with friends, even just a few close friends, would send me into an anxious panic.  I would become nervous, with heart palpitations and anxious sweats.  I would ask myself, "What are you so nervous about?" and try to laugh it off, but my nerves would get the best of me.  If I went to dinner, I would leave early because of an upset stomach or fever from my newly developed food intolerances.  All the while, I had NO IDEA what was wrong with me.  

   

3.  Brain fog and memory loss
Daily, I found myself struggling to focus, struggling to remember what I was supposed to be doing.  I had become disgustedly reliable on my planner (the old fashion kind, with pen and paper) that I carried everywhere with me, and referred back to for even the simplest reminders.  My husband was growing increasingly frustrated and alarmed at my short term memory loss.  At 9am he would remind me to do something, and by 11am, I'd forgotten we'd even had a conversation.  Even more scary, when he would remind me, I wouldn't have the faintest memory of the conversation at all, much less what the conversation was about.  Things were getting scary.



4.  Extreme Weight Gain or Loss
As if all of these symptoms weren't enough, the 47 pounds I was packing on for no reason at all made me withdraw even more from the people who knew me best.  I thought I knew what they were thinking - "What's going on with her?" - I had never been heavy, and certainly not FAT, but here I was, packing on pounds (once, seven pounds in one week) while killing myself in spin class and eating a clean diet.  What WAS going on with me?!

June 2011, we took a family vacation to Disney World.  I felt miserable and grouchy.  I was overweight, tired, and moody.  As fun as the rides and parades should have been, all I could think about was getting home to Atlanta and back to my new normal of hiding behind four walls and keeping to myself.   My relationships were suffering, and I was unhappy.  It was time to do something.  In August, I went to the doctor for a routine yearly physical.  While lying on the table, the doctor (a gynecologist, no less) discovered my goiter, and immediately referred me to an endocrinologist.  That visit got me on the way to wellness, even though it's been a long, bumpy road.  I still find myself "hiding" sometimes, and still get a little anxious leading up to a social date.  As a result of much research and conversations with other AI sufferers on blogs and Facebook, I learned how to tolerate and redirect my anxiety and my desire to hide behind my disease.  The moral of the story is, don't hide.  Even though it's easy, don't let yourself get lost in your disease and all the random, frustrating symptoms and side effects.  Don't let your autoimmune disease control you...the real you, not the AI you. 

Xoxo!

Healthy.  Happy.  Hashi's.

Monday's Meal: Meatloaf Muffins! So yum...

This Monday's Meal is ready in no time, kid's love the "muffin" aspect, and it is relatively healthy.  I have also substituted the ground sirloin with ground buffalo, and that works well, too.  The buffalo has a bit more of a hearty, meaty taste, and has less fat naturally than the sirloin.  With 6-8 medium sized meatloaf muffins, I almost always have one left to take for lunch, and one serving has enough protein to keep me going until dinner.  PLUS the veggies sent through the food processor allow me to add some nutrients in that my otherwise "non-veggie eating child" doesn't notice.  Pairs well as pictured, with mashed potatoes and green beans.  Try it this week and let me know what you think!

MEATLOAF MUFFINS WITH BBQ SAUCE

INGREDIENTS:
1 3/4 - 2 lbs ground buffalo or ground sirloin
1 medium white onion, chopped small
1 whole celery stalk, leaves removed
1 green bell pepper
1 large egg
1 splash of milk
1 c gluten free breadcrumbs (can be omitted)
2 Tbsp gluten free steak seasoning
1 c Sweet Baby Ray's Original BBQ sauce (already gluten free-yay!)
1/2 c tomato salsa (homemade or in jar)
1 Tbsp gluten free Worchestershire sauce (recommend Lea & Perrins since it is gluten free)
Olive oil to glaze pan

DIRECTIONS:
Put ground sirloin or buffalo into a large bowl.  Put onion, celery, and gutted bell pepper into food processor.  Pulse the processor to chop the veggies into fine pieces, then add them to the meat bowl.  In a separate bowl, beat egg and milk, then add mixture to meat bowl.  Mix together the grill seasoning, BBQ sauce, salsa, and Worchestershire together in small bowl, then add HALF of the mixture to the meat bowl.  Sit the rest of the BBQ sauce mixture to the side.  Using your hands, mix the meat together with other ingredients.  Wash you hands, then dip a brush in olive oil and coat insides of muffin pan.  Drop a large spoonful of meat into each muffin opening.  Top each meatloaf with a spoonful of the extra sauce.  Bake for 20-25 minutes, or until a meatloaf muffin cut in center shows desired doneness. 



*Consuming raw or undercooked meats, poultry, seafood, shellfish, or eggs may increase your risk of foodborne illness, especially if you have a medical condition.

Food Network

Gluten Intolerance is....FAKE?!

I'm sure you've seen them.  Recent articles like this one in Forbes magazine detailing a recent study of thirty-something participants and their implied psychosomatic reaction to gluten consumption.  The initial findings by this same organization found that participants with IBS indeed experienced a negative digestive reaction after consuming gluten in their food.  The most recent study (the one detailed in Forbes), now supposedly defeats those findings, opting instead to say that gluten intolerance may be nonsense.  Do you know what is nonsense?  The fact that the articles (and many others like it) did not detail that during the study, participants were limited to a no-FODMAP diet.  Do you know what is included in the list of FODMAPs?  Wheat.  Do you know where gluten is found?  WHEAT.




I don't know about you, but for me, this article really got my feathers ruffled.  Even more so, the backlash of gluten lovers everywhere on social media had a field day posting about why people with "gluten sensitivity" and "gluten intolerance" are simply, and I'm quoting, "people looking for something to be wrong."  One guy even went as far as to say that all gluten intolerant people he knew of were "rich white women."  I love armchair physicians, don't you?  Here is a great response article by the fabulous Mark Sisson.


The funny thing is, a few short years ago, I may have been one of those people that didn't really think it existed.  And I was probably not much different than these people.  Before my Hashimoto's diagnosis in 2011, I had already begun to experience strange digestion issues when I ate pizza, drank beer, or indulged in many other processed foods.  By January of 2013, I could no longer even eat pasta or eat an kind of bread without having severe digestion upset, low fever, joint pain and inflammation, skin rashes, and migraine headaches, beginning immediately after consumption and lasting for days.  So I gave up gluten.  Fast forward to now, and I cannot have ANYTHING with gluten it without feeling the wrath.  So what about Celiac?  Yep, I was tested.  I went to the doctor, demanded to be tested, and they sent for a blood panel.  Do you know what they DIDN'T tell me?  That the blood test for Celiac is only a positive indicator IF you are still actively consuming gluten, and sometimes even that takes years to accurately identify.  By the time I was tested, gluten had not touched my lips in over six months.  All these factors combined, my test came back negative. 

Since my own realization that my body could no longer digest gluten, soy, or dairy well, I have had three doctors tell me "the jury is still out on gluten intolerance" and "there's no substantial proof" that these issues exist.  However, the ONE THING that has helped me recover from all of those debilitating symptoms is implementing dietary changes.  I have a theory about why doctors and Big Pharma do not want to acknowledge that these problems exist, and even more so as to why they do not advise their patients to implement dietary changes.  Wanna hear it?  It's quite simple, actually.  Why would they tell you that you could relieve nearly every single issue you're complaining about by changing your diet?  That would cut them out of the profit they receive from putting you on anti-depressants for your brain fog, RA meds for your joint pain, and prescription antacids for your digestion discomfort.  After complaining to my ex-endocrinologist about the issues I was facing every time I ate, these were the meds he prescribed.  I left his office with a clenched fist of prescriptions and a death wish.





So, that old adage about "you can't believe everything you read"?  It may or may not be true.  But something that is true is...YOU know your body the best.  Listen to it.  Make time to sit quietly and reflect on what it's telling you.  If, every time you eat, your body hates you, and the next day (or hour) you feel horrible, reevaluate your food choices.  I rarely have any food reactions anymore, because I have eliminated the things that make me sick.  Sure, I miss biscuits and cereal in the mornings, but I don't miss feeling miserable every time I eat.

Healthy.  Happy.  Hashi's.