Seeking Simplicity: A Year in Review

Twelve months ago, my life was anything but simple. Primarily, I was a first-year veterinary student living alone in a new town. If school wasn’t demanding enough, I was also weightlifting three or four times a week, running three or four times a week, and trying to complete fresh meat training for a local roller derby league. Between school and my extracurricular activities, I was doing ALL THE THINGS. So in hindsight, it comes as no surprise that in February, my body gave out. It started as soreness in my low back that quickly escalated to debilitating pain. When I went to urgent care on a Sunday, they took radiographs but saw nothing. They sent me home with muscle relaxers and pain meds to help me sleep. It wasn’t until I was able to see a doctor of osteopathic medicine at the student health center later that week that I started to understand what was going on. It appeared that the tension from chronic stress and anxiety had accumulated over time in the muscles of my low back (probably aggravated by sitting with poor posture for long hours in lectures and at my desk studying) and it had reached a breaking point. The small muscles stabilizing my spine and pelvis had spasmed and pulled my sacro-iliac joint out of alignment. This was the intense pain I was feeling. The D.O. was able to adjust me so that proper alignment was restored, which reduced my pain significantly, but soreness from the muscle strain remained. I underwent physical therapy for several weeks following the spasm in order to regain mobility in my spine and to learn how to properly care for my back in the future, should pain become an issue again.

The pain gradually lessened because I became hyper aware of my posture and form in every movement I made. Even though none of the physical activities I had been partaking in directly instigated the spasm in my back, vigorous physical activity was the first thing to go (this was an eye opener in two ways--it caused me to find and try new things I could do and it also caused me to re-evaluate my relationship to exercise and my body). My movement consisted of long walks (which I really started to enjoy) and core-strengthening exercises I learned in physical therapy that paved the way for a regular yoga practice that helped not only strengthen my body and protect it from further injury, but also train my mind to calm down and be present. I also experimented with the way I was fueling myself and adjusted my nutrition in order to determine what was serving me and what wasn’t.

While my back spasm caused me to slow down and assess my overall health, it was also an inciting event that exposed a lot of other underlying health problems of which I was previously unaware because my body and mind were compensating. I made it through the spring semester and thought that surely over the summer I would be able to continue on the road to recovery. Unfortunately, the summer research job I had lined up turned out to be less than fulfilling and unexpectedly draining in combination with the stress of moving into a place that had more problems than seemed reasonable for a brand-new duplex. When the end of the summer rolled around, I had taken no time for myself to relax and was already dreading the notorious Block IV course looming ahead of me in the fall. The one shining spot in the summer was that my two best friends finally joined me in Ithaca, so I was no longer alone.

After getting back to school and feeling my health deteriorate once again (even in light of my clean eating and reduced exercise burden), I started to ask questions about my health. Why was I so exhausted all the time? Why couldn’t I get restful sleep? Why did I have daily headaches? Why couldn’t I focus in class? Why was my back pain coming back? Why did I get dizzy so often? These were questions that I soon learned couldn’t be answered by conventional doctors (but not until after I ran lot of tests that my health insurance ended up not covering). All my extra money spent on medical bills left me no leeway to seek help from naturopathic or integrative medical doctors, perhaps the only people able to treat my condition. I was resolved to be my own doctor. I did a lot of research and read a lot of literature and concluded that my issue was severe adrenal fatigue (a.k.a. hypoadrenia, hypothalamus-pituitary-adrenal axis dysregulation). Basically, long term chronic stress had depleted my adrenal glands of their ability to produce cortisol. Too much cortisol is usually a sign of being over-stressed initially, but if that is prolonged, eventually the cortisol levels drop and the normal peaks and troughs of cortisol that follow a circadian rhythm can’t be maintained. I won’t go too much more into it but, suffice it to say, this explained the majority of my symptoms. Luckily for me, the treatment is a lot of the things I was already working on doing--avoiding things that exacerbate the problem like caffeine and alcohol, eating the right things to replenish depleted micronutrients, prioritizing sleep, and making lifestyle changes that promote relaxation (like meditating). Unfortunately, this is not something that you take a pill for and you’re all better, and it’s exponentially more difficult to recover from when the primary stressor (in my case, vet school) is not removed. I would not be surprised if I am still rehabilitating my adrenal glands when I graduate. But for now this will have to be enough until I can afford to work one-on-one with a naturopathic or functional medicine doctor.

The silver lining of all this back pain and fatigue stuff is that it illuminated my need to seek professional help with my stress and anxiety. I am very lucky to have access to relatively extensive counseling services through my school. I have been seeing a counselor weekly since March (except for the summer time--but that’s another stress-inducing money-sucking fiasco of a story). Therapy has been transformative for me and I really feel I am acquiring the tools that will carry me through life better able to manage all the things that are thrown at me. I accept that the stress of school isn’t going away, and I doubt I will ever suddenly wake up one day a non-anxious person, but I understand now that I don’t have to be a slave to it, and my ability to function under the burden of this stress continues to evolve.

My experience over the last year with my own health has also begun to shape my professional goals as a veterinarian. There have been times since I started vet school that I thought I wanted to work with farm animals, large animals, birds, wildlife, etc, etc, etc. It was usually something different depending on whatever course I was taking at the time and never something that felt particularly compelling. But having experienced the physically and emotionally debilitating manifestations of chronic stress and unchecked anxiety, and having to learn how to balance my lifestyle and manage the stress has indirectly demystified my path. Slowly, I have realized that advocating for my own wellness is foundational and imperative for my success in any endeavor, and I am increasingly appalled that basic care for oneself is not emphasized more amongst my colleagues. I've become very interested in the practice of maintaining balance in the blatantly unbalanced high stress environment that is vet school. I see in my peers a need for an advocate for wellness within the vet student community, as well as students and practicing clinicians of all medical disciplines. I feel strongly that something is not right when those charged with the responsibility to care for the health of others often compromise their own health in order to do so.

So, I am in the midst of designing my own path here, to learn about and promote wellness in the healthcare professions. I've experienced first hand what stress, anxiety, burnout, fatigue and depression can do and I want to be a resource for people like me to find support in the future (support that I, for the most part, haven't had--within the vet school at least). There are a few pieces of this puzzle that are just beginning to come together. The biggest piece being that I am in the process of applying to the DVM/MPH dual degree program so that--with only one extra year--I will graduate ready to serve in the public health sector. My more long term goals include completing a Masters of Social Work after I graduate so that if I so choose, I can become a licensed clinical social worker and provide counseling to other vet students or medical professionals. You may think none of this sounds very veterinarian-y. I think about that too sometimes. The only thing I can say right now is that there is a need--a need for someone to advocate for those over-worked and exhausted residents suffering from compassion fatigue. A need to raise awareness about the suicide issue in the veterinary community instead of sweeping it under the rug. I believe animals are part of this equation too! Animal-assisted therapy is a huge field that I can’t wait to delve into. The more I think about the directions I could go, the more excited I am about connecting all the dots between my skills, interests, and passions.

The most immediate step I am taking to establish my own balance and cultivate more skills to promote wellness for others is to attend a yoga teacher training in 2016. Teaching yoga has always been sitting in the back of my mind as something I would want to do if whatever I was currently doing didn’t work out. But I was inspired to do it now--in this transformative year of my life--when a current 3rd year vet student started leading classes during lunch one day a week, free to students. I already had a personal daily yoga practice myself (to maintain my spinal health and manage anxiety) but this resource opened my eyes to the possibility, feasibility, and receptivity amongst my peers, as well as my potential ability to fulfill the need they were crying out for. Through yoga and mutual struggles in school, I have become dear friends with the student who teaches now and she introduced me to her home studio in Trumansburg, Lakshmi Living Arts, that is also the site of an Anusara yoga teacher training. I’ve already spoken to the lovely women who run it and they’ve agreed to let me do a work-trade for half the cost of the training. It is divided into two 3-week sections which conveniently coincide with my academic breaks. The first is in January and the second is in May/June. Even though many of my classmates will be spending their semester breaks doing things that are more "relevant" to veterinary medicine, I am so excited to be taking this time as a kind of spiritual retreat to study yoga, learn about myself, and clear my mind to make it ready for what might come next.

I’ve ruminated long and hard on this opportunity, and for me, the pros seriously outweigh the cons. I truly believe that spending the time to deepen my yoga practice in this way will have profound effects on my own well-being, making me more equipped to survive two more years of vet school stress and beyond. It also fits perfectly with the new sense of direction I feel in pursuit of a career as an advocate for wellness. The response to my friend’s class for students this year has been overwhelming and some are already asking what will happen next year when she will be in clinics and unable to teach. I get butterflies of excitement in my stomach when she mentions that I’ll be taking over. My heart aches for those I see around me suffering in a way I’ve suffered and knowing they have not yet found balance. There are times when I want to call out in the middle of the crowded, quiet library with students hunched over books and computers, guzzling coffee, “It doesn’t have to be like this!” But alas, I empathize with those students running on fumes, barely keeping their heads above water--because I’ve been there, I am there, alongside them. And while I would never wish the physical health problems I experienced and am still recovering from on anyone as a motivator to change their lifestyle, I also know everyone has to come to the realization in their own way that they can’t do it all, and they can’t do it alone. Until then I will ready myself to be there when they do, to offer an open ear, support, and guidance, to be someone I wish I would’ve had when I was going through the same things.

All in all, comparing where I am now to where I was twelve months ago is an exercise in futility. It’s not simple. Will it ever be? It’s not as if that was normal, then I was broken, and now I’m back to “normal”. I will never be back to that normal, especially since that normal resulted in me being broken. But not really broken. More aware. I am constantly reminding myself that I am not a problem that needs fixing. I am more a collection of quirks and characteristics, and it’s my responsibility to separate the things that honor my true self and illuminate it from the things that hinder and dampen it. For now, that means letting a lot of things go and trying to sit peacefully with myself and everything that I am at this moment--not what I used to be, not what I wish I was--with no judgment and no expectations. The past year has brought with it many struggles but also many lessons. What will 2016 bring?

May my thoughts, words, and actions contribute in some way to the happiness and freedom of all beings, without exception.

#thestruggleisreal

This is a tough-love reminder to myself and to the greater social media community that life is not a highlight reel.

I admit I am guilty of subscribing to the filtered, curated stream of photographic consciousness posted to Instagram most of the time. Although, sometimes I'm blessed to be able to find those beautiful moments even when the outlook is bleaker than it appears on the internet. However, I very rarely post the bloopers, the blunders, the weak spots, or the vulnerabilities because I am--like so many other humans--reluctantly all-too-concerned with how I am perceived by my friends, family, and even strangers-at-large.

Today I take a break from all that filtering to say--whole-heartedly, and with fervor--that the struggle is real.

I recently moved with my boyfriend and our giant dog into a brand-new-fresh-off-the-presses apartment (it wasn't actually even completed totally when we started moving our stuff in). I was coming from a studio across town, but he was coming all the way from the Adirondacks. I also recently discovered that it is nearly impossible to unpack and get settled whilst working full-time. And forget about having time to exercise regularly or prepare whole, healthy meals and keep up any semblance of having my ish together (because I definitely don't).

Basically the last two weeks or so have been an exercise in remembering what it was like before I learned how to properly take care of myself.

Living out of boxes. Working long hours with an irregular schedule. No evidence of routine. No energy or perceived time to workout. No internet. Financial woes.

Thank the gods I have a partner-in-crime to lean on at the end of each disproportionately exhausting day. Of course, sharing a space with another human being presents its own set of problems--even if he is the love of your life. But in general, this adjustment has the most optimistic prognosis.

In other news, our water smells of sulfur (rotten eggs) so I am less than motivated to soak in the bath (I give myself kudos when I can simply rally to shower daily). My yoga mat is rolled up in the corner anxiously waiting to be used in a pile of other stuff I can't unpack and set up until we find some decent shelves. My "back patio", front door step, and general lawn for about a 30-meter radius around my house is a mud pit.

Beyond that mud pit, though, is a killdeer nest. And a 1-acre dog park that Katahdin can rule with an iron paw. Not too far down the road is access to the Cayuga Trail system and Sapsucker Woods. And there are wild blackberries in the hedgerow behind our house. My partner has patience with me (that most of the time I don't deserve), and is becoming more and more comfortable cooking Whole30 for and with me. Occasionally, I can go to the gym during my lunch break.

Still, I struggle.

A lot.

I am often overwhelmed with how much there is to do. The days rarely seem to have enough hours in them. Many times I catch myself wondering, "This is summer. Aren't I supposed to be less stressed during the summer?"

I spent basically the entire spring semester telling myself and my therapist that once I got to summer things would be better. Once I moved, things would get easier because I wouldn't be lonely anymore. My summer research internship would be less demanding than my academic course load. The weather would improve and I would be able to get outside and move more. All these things collectively would benefit my overall well-being.

Yet, "things" aren't better.

I've lost that post-Whole30 sweet spot where everything in my body was well-oiled and running smoothly (even though I haven't even really gone off Whole30 in my day-to-day life). The bloom is off the Whole30 rose, I guess you could say. But does that mean that I really go back to the misery I felt before the Whole30 was a staple in my life? Most of the positive behavior changes and habits have stuck, so why do I feel like I've taken so many steps back? I guess even though the Whole30 taught me so much about how influential nutrition is to most every aspect of my life, I've already forgotten that a little.

And did I mention my back is sore again? My back is sore again! This is the most disconcerting symptom of my stressed out state.

My only solace is that I can recognize stress and anxiety to be the instigators and take measures to combat it before I end up in urgent care again. BUT I AM SO DISCOURAGED. I was improving so much. Physical therapy, emotional therapy, Whole30 eating and living, getting my strength back and feeling good in my skin--these are all positive steps I've taken in the last six months. And I will be damned if all that work is for naught because I can't handle a little transitioning in my life.

Part of the issue could be that the last year (and if you want to get deep with it--the last four years, nay, seven years) have been perpetual transition, and I've done a pretty crap job of coping so far.

Yet again, I find myself looking toward some nebulous future time when "things" will miraculously be better. When I get settled in this new home. When I have the routine of school again. When I get my financial aid figured out for next year. When I graduate. When I finally feel like I'm on the right career path. Blah blah blah blah blah...

Am I kidding myself?

If I cataloged my thoughts for a day, an overwhelming amount of the them would be tainted with doubt, shame, and insecurity. However, nearly none of these feelings are expressed in the words I speak to those around me or in how I present myself on social media platforms. That's mostly because I don't want to burden my loved ones with those thoughts. And I'm embarrassed that I even think most of them.

So you see the yummy food I eat. And my handsome-adorable-spectacular-amazing-beautiful-wonderful dog. And the occasional pastel painted sunset. And the flattering yoga poses and shameless gym selfies. The cliché things.

And all I can think of right now is how I'm ashamed that my internet-life is a cliché. And while I'm being honest, I'm ashamed to admit most of the things I've said here. But I'm saying it anyway--selfishly--because I hope someone else will see it and realize they can be real on the internet too. And the more real we see presented on the internet, the less we have to be ashamed of in our own lives.

reintro day 2: when it's worth it

The good news is, drinking red wine last night didn't throw me off at all; no noticeable adverse reactions.

The bad news is, it didn't rock my world either.

In fact, rather than getting almost immediately tipsy happy drunk (which is what I thought would happen after abstaining from alcohol for over six weeks), I simply got really tired. Like falling asleep on the couch at 7:30pm tired. This may seem like not that big of a deal, but after forty-five days of healthy energy cycles, being tired enough to fall asleep at 7:30pm is out of the ordinary.

After one glass of wine.

So instead of being the life of the party, I was simply the star of my own snuggle party for one located under my covers in bed. Not sexy.

This isn't that bad I guess, things could be a lot worse.

I'll be happy to have wine, whiskey, and hard cider back on the table for the occasional imbibition, but I'll also be happy to pass on the empty nutrition unless I'm totally feeling it's worth it.

It will be interesting to see if I experience the same exhaustion after sipping bourbon, or if that is unique to red wine. If it is, perhaps I'll be a whiskey girl exclusively--and there ain't nothing wrong with that.

For now, I'm just as satisfied with naturally-flavored sparkling water, kombucha, or iced rooibos tea. And I sleep much better at night knowing I'm enjoying a refreshing beverage that is making me more healthy rather than slipping back into less healthy territory.

It's nice that during this reintroduction process, I'm still basically living the Whole30 life even though the Whole 30/45 is technically "over" (I wasn't totally ready to let it go--I'm a huge fan of how I feel and have been sort of dreading reintroduction of less healthy things). But I know it's a necessary part of the experiment and so far the experience has been positive.

I'm already looking toward Tuesday and thinking about hummus and peanut butter. I used to be someone who ate peanut butter on the regular--like, literally every morning. I also often made my own hummus and had it daily with carrot sticks as an afternoon snack.

Homemade hummus is the bomb and peanut goes well with everything. But the cool thing is, before I even reintroduce legumes, I'm already at peace with the idea that they potentially won't be worth it for me--especially soy.

There are so many better things I could be doing with myself and my food that fulfill the same purposes that hummus and peanut butter try to do. So I will likely eat less legumes simply as a result of my changed lifestyle (e.g. no more morning smoothie, and no snacking required), rather than as a consequence of specifically avoiding them.

Reintroduction day for legumes will be interesting as I try to orchestrate getting single servings to incorporate into my meals (I don't want to go about buying a whole jar of peanut butter or an entire package of hummus, or bottle of soy sauce, or bag of frozen edamame if I find after one helping that it's totally not worth it).

If that is the case, bring on the almonds and cashews, and let me dip vegetables into tonnato sauce, beet hummus, and liver pate.

I'm so glad that the Whole30 introduced me to all these interesting options. I rest easy knowing that no matter what happens, I will never be bored with my food, and I will also be able to make an informed and aware decision about what I want to eat. No more mindless eating--not even of delicious combinations of peanut butter and literally anything else.

I can't say I'm not glad to be eating Whole30 for another day. But I'm also glad to be checking things off the list as worth it or not.

The worst part of this all may be not being able to characterize my meals with the #Whole30 hashtag on Instagram and Twitter to include the awesome community of Whole30ers all over the world in what I'm doing. Is that weird?

From here on out it will be #Whole9 all the way because that's life. The nine factors.

Right now, the factor on the brain is Sleep. And with that, goodnight.

reintro day 1: red, red wine

Stay tuned for results!

day 44 & 45: this is it

It still hasn't completely sunk in that I'm done with school for the summer. This year has been a difficult one for me--in more ways than just academically--and for a long time, I've been in a kind of purgatory just waiting to get to this point.

The last twelve months have been filled with a lot of transition: making the move to Ithaca, starting vet school, etc. etc. etc. I am heading straight into more transition now: moving to a new place (with my mountain man and our polar bear), trying my hand at research for the summer, then, of course, starting my second year of vet school in the fall.

How I approach coping with the stress of transitions like these has changed a lot over the past few months. Even though I've always considered myself a healthy person, one of the biggest realizations I've had as a result of this journey back from my back spasm episode (what I've deemed the "instigating event") has been that health wasn't really a priority--at least not like I thought.

I understand things about myself now, how I could feel, how I should feel, that I'm not sure I ever would have learned if I had not tried the Whole30.

This is a big statement.

But I say it with confidence.

I still have a lot of learn as I complete the reintroduction process, but through it all I will only continue to harness the ability to take control of my health in a positive way.

Going forward I will be able to say this is how I know I can be my best. That will not contribute to me being my best, therefore--for me--it's not necessary to include that in my life at this time. Being able to say NO THANK YOU to something you previously touted as irresistible is extremely freeing.

And it's not a reluctant "No thank you" because I'm depriving myself. It's a a very resolute and content "No thank you" because I genuinely understand what my body needs and doesn't need.

I can't express enough how liberating this is. "Food freedom" is kind of the mantra of the Whole30, and I totally get it now. It's difficult to explain until you experience it yourself (and it will be different for everyone) but for me it's not missing the things I used to feel guilty eating. It's not feeling guilty eating anything. Everything I eat and do for my body is so satisfying, I honestly don't think I'm missing out on anything.

And the best part is, when something does show up on my plate that is--by all definitions of the word--an indulgence, I can partake guilt-free whether it's one bite or fifty because I will be doing so from a position of awareness.

The last thing I've ever wanted to do throughout this whole journey is sound preachy or self-righteous. So I will pump the brakes as I sum up and de-brief the last forty-five days.

Obviously I hope everyone can find food freedom and change their life permanently for the better. But like other addictions and unhealthy habits, change has to come from within.

For me, that change came about after the last straw literally broke the camel's back (I'm the camel). I'm not sure what that last straw was exactly, but the message was clear that I needed to do things differently.

Just like a lot of different stresses culminated to manifest in a physical breakdown, a lot of different approaches have worked together to help me cope with those stresses. It's not just changing my food, it's taking action according to all of those factors I've mention before (and you can read about them here).

In a way, because I opened myself up to try changing my food habits, I've indirectly improved other, non-food related, aspects of my life as well. This is where the life-changing really comes in. It's not just about the foods I've eaten or will eat in the future, but the approach to why and how I choose to eat and conduct my life in general.

This is, in fact, the first day of the rest of my life. And it is good.

day 43: ellie eat world

How I stay stress-free in the middle of finals week and subsequently prepare to go away for the weekend the absolute millisecond I'm finished with exams:

*Spoiler alert: this list will look a lot like yesterday's. When it works, it works.

• Eat all the good food!
• Do all the good yoga!
• Drink all the good tea!

Okay, that's enough of that.

• Go for a walk (even though it's cold and windy--but at least the sun finally came out).
• Foam roll (all together now: "Ahhhhhhhh").
• That epsom salt and eucalyptus bubble bath though.
• Read a book unrelated to vet school (Gasp!).
• Collect all the dirty laundry in the basket.
• Prep all my toiletries (I'm an addict).
• Make snacks for the road (on the docket is crackin' chicken, hard-boiled eggs, plantain chips, guacamole, carrot sticks, whatever else I can throw together with what's in the fridge).
• Skype times with the mountain man.
• Wash those dishes, girl.
• Oh, and did I mention go to sleep at a decent hour?
• And breathe.

It just takes some time.

Little girl, you're in the middle of the ride.

Everything will be just fine.

Everything will be all right.

day 42: the answer to life, the universe, and everything

Things I do to de-stress before final exams:

• Break a sweat at the gym.
• Vent a little with friends.
• Sip coconut sparkling water with tart cherry juice.
• Wash all the dirty dishes in the sink.
• Watch the newest BroScience video.
• Go for a leisurely walk.
• Get upside down!
• Prepare a homemade meal loaded with all the nutrients.
• Listen to the latest "This American Life".
• Take a epsom salt bubble bath.
• Steep my tea for the morning.
• Set out frozen meat to thaw for breakfast.
• Go to bed at a decent hour.

Buona notte.

day 41: less than three days

We interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this brief message:

I have many more important things to be doing other than writing a snarky blog post. So I am going to go do those things.

End of message.

This has been a test. I repeat: this has only been a test.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled primetime entertainment, brought to you by [insert corporate conglomerate here].

day 40: crunch time

Currently, I'm battling the stress of wanting to get lots of studying in so I can do my best on these upcoming exams with the futility of knowing there is no possible way I could cover the amount of material expected of me in the given time.

While understanding the material is an obvious priority, it isn't my only one. I refuse to go through this week neglecting all the things that keep my brain functioning in its optimal state.

So yeah, I'm going to prioritize sleep over cramming into the wee hours of the morning.

I'm going to prioritize good food. I've already made all my lunches for the week--I can't have that using up my limited will power each day. Meal prepping may have taken up time today that I could've been studying, but I see it as a trade off for the time I save each day not having to fuss over figuring out what to prepare and pack for lunch and/or dinner.

You better believe I'm going to make time for healthy movement too, even if it's just a 30 minute walk in the afternoon. My brain functions best when I've moved my body, so there will be lots of random yoga poses interspersed between chunks of studying.

I also have to remain realistic. There's no way I'm going to memorize everything I need to before Wednesday. BUT--I've put in time this entire term, and I haven't been completely clueless, so I won't be doomed--even if I don't study a wink over the next 48 hours. (This is not my plan--obviously I'm going to study--I'm just also trying to keep perspective).

It's going to be a struggle. This is going to be a difficult week. There will probably be tears, anger, hopelessness, etc. etc.

But I can get through it. I'm thinking of a random quote I saw on someone's Facebook page once and it said something along the lines of "On particularly difficult days like this, I always remind myself that so far my track record for getting through tough days has been 100%."

School has been difficult before. I've struggled. And I got through it then. Just like I'm going to get through this.

With that, I must retire to bed because the alarm is going to go off sooner than I'd like and tomorrow morning it will be getting-down-to-business time.

day 39: on being selfish

I've been thinking a lot lately about sustaining this healthier lifestyle post-Whole30.

In the past, I maintained a healthy diet (or at least tried to) because I was constantly striving to lose weight, be more fit, and avoid the guilt I felt when I indulged in junk. But now that my relationship with food has changed, the reasons behind why I eat what I eat have changed as well. I'm learning that what I eat can have profound influences on my overall health in ways I never considered before.

It was brought to my attention today that the results I'm seeing are really significant because most people would probably attempt to treat their sleep issues, mood quality, and anxiety levels with over-the counter and even prescription medications. But I am seeing improvements in all of those things and more just by changing the way I eat.

I know I've said this before, but it's a big deal.

I didn't have metabolic issues like insulin resistance, or other clinical signs like hypertension or high cholesterol before I started this so I can't speak to that. But I'm not surprised when I read about others suffering from diabetes or chronic joint pain who find relief when they change their food habits according to Whole30 guidelines.

It is true what they say, that you can't be sure whether or not something is affecting you until you take it away and see how you feel. In It Starts With Food, the Hartwigs use an analogy where you're allergic to a tree that is right outside your window at home but you don't realize it. You have itchy eyes and a runny nose and sneeze every single day and eventually you become accustomed enough that it feels like this is your "normal life". Then you go on vacation somewhere those trees don't grow and you suddenly wake up every day refreshed and energized and without any general malaise you were accustomed to feeling at home, and amazed that this energetic, rested, simply happier state can be attained "normally".

Whatever bothers you, whether it's indigestion, acne, achey knees, a sore back, mood swings, depression, diabetes, the list could go on and on--I am willing to bet that just trying thirty days of focusing on foods that make you more healthy instead of less healthy will make a difference.

I'm not promising a cure or anything. But I am confident enough--after seeing how my own life has changed for the better--that I can say that something could be improved in your life. And your diet is great place to start in order to make those improvements.

The difficult part comes in when you're done, you reintroduce, and then you have to decide what's "worth it". What about special occasions, family dinners, holidays, vacations, times and places when you don't get to dictate what's on your plate--what then?

Since I haven't gone through the reintroduction protocol yet, I can't say definitively what's worth it for me and what's definitely not. But I can say that there are some of my habits associated with food that will be changed permanently. And that has effects on the people closest to me.

So what's worth it?

Putting social niceties ahead of my own optimal health is not.
Avoiding potentially hurting my mother's, grandmother's, or other generous host's feelings is probably not either (sorry, but it's true).

Now that I know how good I can feel, I'm going to be selfish and want to feel that good all the time. This wouldn't really be a problem if I was a hermit and the only person my food choices affected was me (which is basically what I've been for the past year). But in a month, I'll be sharing a home with my significant other. We have plans to travel and visit family this summer, and I know there will be countless instances in the future where my "new" diet (avoiding whatever it is I decide is necessary to avoid) is going to pose extra stress on the situation.

I can't really know how I'm going to handle those situations until I come upon them. But I can say that I'm not going to immediately roll over for the Standard American Diet whenever I'm presented with a little inconvenience or pressure. My health is too important to me.

That sounds selfish.

But it's okay to be selfish when it comes to your health. Compromise is really important to maintaining healthy relationships. And this can sometimes apply to your relationship with food. But you have to suss out what's worth it because you think it's worth it versus what you're telling yourself is worth it because you just can't bother to go through the rigmarole of finding a more healthy option.

So I'm being selfish--to what extent is to be determined, BUT--

I (and you) might as well come to terms with it now, I'm going to be selfish. My health isn't something I should have to compromise, and it certainly isn't something I've "earned" or because I "deserve" it. Good health is. And so it should be.

day 38: haiku too

Six days 'til summer.
So close yet still out of reach.
I will make it through.

day 37: real talk

I'm trying this new thing where I acknowledge my perceived inadequacies, but without any immediate pressure to fix them. Yes, of course, I'd like to make progress--and I am working to do so--but I constantly have to remind myself that it won't happen overnight, and I need to stop beating myself up when it doesn't.

It's amazing the relief provided simply by verbal confession, even without any kind of proposition, or solution. Just breaking the silence, forming the words outside of the cockles of my mind does wonders.

I am anxious.
I have insecurities.
I am afraid of failure.

I'm ashamed.
I'm shy.
I want to be liked.

As much as I hate to admit it (because it's not "cool"), indeed, yes--I care what people think of me. Or just that they think of me.

I wish I didn't. But that's not what this is about. This is about acknowledging my true self (rather than the self I project to the world), but without the burden of trying to correct it right now.

I have body image issues.
I have doubts about my goals.
I have doubts. Period.

I thrive on appreciation, but am too self-conscious to properly receive a compliment.
I seek out approval (read: validation), but mostly via social media so I can remain somewhat inconspicuous and anonymous (how very Millennial of me).
I long to be special, to be held in higher regard, but find ways to avoid the work or the spotlight required to occupy such a status.

I could go on...but I won't.

There is a part of me that isn't any of these things. A part of my true self has already figured out how to overcome this ineptness, this mediocrity. The part of me that is aware enough to acknowledge them.

She comes out now and then (I call her Lola, my alter ego).

When I started weightlifting, she came out a lot more, because my body confidence is closely tied to a lot of these other things. Some of that applies now too because feeling and looking healthier (thanks to the Whole30) boosts my confidence as well.

I've said it before and I'll reiterate it here: I am a work in progress.

Some of these things are unfortunate consequences of the human, mortal condition. That's not an excuse to be crippled by them, however.

The path I am on right now is one of awareness, acknowledgment, and conscious change. It's a sliding scale and I will spend the rest of my life striving to be the best version of myself.

A work in progress, yes. But also a masterpiece in the making.

day 36: why my life is a Rogers and Hart song

I get too hungry for dinner at eight.
I like the theatre but never come late.
I never bother with people I hate.

Let's see--yes, yes, and a thousand times, YES. We can just stop here, actually. This is my anthem.

I don't like crap games with Barons and Earls.
Won't go to Harlem in ermine and pearls.
Won't dish the dirt with the rest of the girls.

Okay, so I had to look up what "ermine" was (it is a fancy white fur stoat) but yeah, definitely wouldn't go to Harlem--or anywhere--wearing that. And "dishing the dirt" = "stirring up drama." No thank you.

I like the free, fresh wind in my hair, life without care.
I'm broke--it's oke!
Hate California, it's cold and it's damp.

All true thus far. (Except about hating California. That's false. I love you, California.) Also, in case you were wondering, "oke" is "okay" in this instance.

I go to Coney, the beach is divine.
I go to ball games, the bleachers are fine.
I follow Winchell and read every line.

Never been to Coney Island, but I love the beach in general, as long as it isn't over-crowded (see previous line about "not bothering"). And the cheap seats at a baseball game are basically the only thing that is great about America these days. Winchell was a gossip columnist way back when--but I mean, if we're being completely honest, I love that juicy celebrity gossip as much as the next girl. However, now instead of getting it from the newspaper, I glean if off of Refinery29 or Bravo.

I like a prize fight that isn't a fake.
I love the rowing on Central Park lake.
I go to opera and stay wide awake.

I would've gotten into the huge boxing match last weekend had it not been utterly ridiculous on all accounts. Bodies of water are my jam, clichéd Central Park included. And don't get me started on the opera. I sang that stuff in high school and college. It's legit.

I like the green grass under my shoes, what can I lose?
I'm flat--that's that!
I'm all alone when I lower my lamp.

Mmm-hmmm, guilty on all charges.

Don't know the reason for cocktails at five.
I don't like flying, I'm glad I'm alive.
I crave affection, but not when I drive.

Happy hour is just an excuse to drink away the misery and emptiness you get from your day job. Flying gets a bad rap (thanks, Homeland Security), but I could take it or leave it. And I prefer driving alone so I can roll all the windows down and turn the radio way up and sing.

Folks go to London and leave me behind.
I'll miss the crowning, Queen Mary won't mind.
I don't play Scarlett in "Gone With the Wind".

I've always harbored a deep desire to punch Scarlett O'Hara in the throat.

I like to hang my hat where I please, sail with the breeze.
No dough--hey, ho!
I love La Guardia and think he's a champ.

(La Guardia was the mayor of New York City. I'll refrain from commenting on the current mayor of NYC at this time.)

Girls get massages, they cry and they moan.
Tell Lizzie Arden to leave me alone.
I'm not so hot, but my shape is my own.

(Lizzie Arden is referring to Elizabeth Arden, the cosmetics mogul.) There's an entire feminist agenda in three lines here. Take that, Meghan Trainor.

The food at Sardi's is perfect, no doubt.
I don't know what the Ritz is about.
I drop a nickel and coffee comes out.

Sardi's is that restaurant in Times Square where all the caricatures of celebrities are hanging on the walls. Wouldn't be caught dead there. Hate that touristy stuff. Ain't nobody got time (or money) for that.

I like the sweet, fresh rain in my face.
Diamonds and lace, no got--so what?

So what? The perfect retort. The perfect song. The perfect summation of my life philosophy.

And that's why the lady is a tramp!

day 35: miss independent

"Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet."

No, I didn't see that on a bumper sticker, or in swirly frilly letters in an "inspirational" graphic on the internet. Someone actually said it to me--ironically, I hope! (Right, Joey?)

Blech, the statement is physically revolting to me. Say it, and I cringe and shudder like Whoopi Goldberg the hyena and you just said "Mufasa!" Maybe it's my generalized social anxiety. Maybe it's my overall discontent with the masses. Maybe I'm just a weird loner. Maybe I'm intimidating, stuck-up, and judgmental. At any rate, I have to say that in general, people suck, I don't really like them, and I don't see every stranger as a potential new bestie.

There are several individuals in my life that I like quite a bit, but collectively people are pretty much the worst.

It is this quality of being just the worst that drives my lack of desire to be everyone's buddy. I am someone who would much rather invest the time and energy into having only a few quality friendships, rather than spreading the friendliness around to lots of people that I've never really had a connection with (I guess you could say I'm like Ron Swanson in that way).

This tends to backfire, of course, when I rarely feel that connection to anyone (probably due to my own inability to let my guard down) and end up with, like, zero friends.

It's mostly fine with me. I can enjoy my time alone. And I don't know if anyone has admitted it out loud since possibly kindergarten, but making new friends is hard. I'm of the philosophy that you can't force it, so when thrown into a new situation with new people and new opportunities--it either clicks, or it just doesn't.

So I guess the more accurate statement would be that making new friends isn't necessarily hard, but it does take patience. (Case in point: when you do meet someone you click with, the friendship easily falls into place. So making that friend isn't difficult at all, but stumbling upon them in a world population of over seven billion is somewhat unlikely.)

That's why when I do develop one of those connections, it tends to stick--even from thousands of miles away. You probably want to ask, are these old friendships preventing me from developing new ones? It's possible. But these are my people. And given the odds, I think I'm going to hang on to them while I can.

So yeah, I may not be the most warm and fuzzy person in the world. And I sure as hell won't be easy to get to know right off the bat. But if you put in the time, it could be worth your while.

In the interim, kudos to those of you who can instantly be best friends with literally anyone. You will probably get much further in life than loners like me.

Consequently, I am in the market for an Ithaca person. So if this cynical-ass blog post didn't completely turn you off and you can appreciate the pop culture references, look me up. We could be friends, just so long as we aren't strangers first.

day 34: new normal

This morning I was running a little late (because Mondays, obviously). Okay, so running a little late is pretty standard for me, but today it was a little more. All in all, I was probably ten minutes late to my first lecture at 8:00am.

I skipped going to the office to pick up lecture notes for the week and didn't take my usual quick pee break before class so I could slip into the back of the lecture hall without being too conspicuously tardy.

Lo and behold, I walked in and everyone was socializing, the projector was blank and there was no lecturer at the front of the class. Immediately, I breathed sigh of relief. Realizing the clinician who was supposed to come wasn't there yet, I felt comfortable taking time to pick up notes and use the bathroom in a leisurely fashion.

Returning to the lecture hall filled with increasingly anxious students, the course leader made an announcement basically saying, "We don't know where he is. He's one of our best lecturers. We'll try to post the slides for you, but you won't get any notes. Sorry about that."

Given the situation, there were two predominant reactions that surfaced. Either you were bitter for waking up and coming to class for nothing and regretting the extra hour of sleep you could've gotten, or you were grateful for the extra time to jumpstart your day--especially since it was gorgeous outside and you could now soak up the sun for an hour.

I was the second person. I actually did a kind of double take at my own attitude because bitter and cynical used to be my wheelhouse. But here I was, relieved that I wasn't late after all, and happy that I didn't waste (and as it turns out--couldn't have wasted) time this weekend when it was heaven outside preparing for a lecture that didn't actually happen.

This default positive attitude is a relatively new sensation for me. Being aware of my pessimistic ways and actively trying to find the silver lining in life is usually my course of action. But today--today I automatically focused on the good stuff and didn't focus on what I could've been better.

It still blows my mind that this phenomenon could be (and likely is!) directly related to the food I eat. Virtually nothing else in my life has changed, the potential for irritability is still there. But since I started eating differently, my general mood has been better (regardless of whatever other stresses are always present and unchanged).

This is weird and awesome. I can explain it and yet I can't. I choose to believe that my good food choices are paying off in big ways. Mainly--simply being a happier person. Now that I can observe my peers and how negative they can be about a lot of things, it only sheds more light on the fact that I used to be like that (I'm sorry to those around me--I see now that it's extremely difficult and draining to be around a chronically negative person).

Being a genuinely jovial person without really having to think about it is ridiculous. Ridiculously awesome. I hope it doesn't seem like I'm talking down to those aforementioned "negative people". I say the things I do because that used to be me. And now I can't help but share because I'm constantly being pleasantly surprised by the unintended benefits of the Whole30 program.

I'm now the kind of person that two-months-ago me would've probably rolled her eyes at (but really that was only because deep down she was jealous and wished she could be light-heatedly happy in the face of obstacles). So I'm going to try to keep it going, because it's working for me right now.

Please don't roll your eyes at me.

day 33: west coast calling

I've been fantasizing a lot lately about moving out west.

Maybe it just happens to be the ones I follow, but it seems that a high concentration of the Paleo food bloggers out there on the interwebs are based in California. Perhaps it's the year-round access to fresh produce, or simply that cool people live in Cali and cool people eat Paleo--I don't know.

But I'm constantly jealous.

Scrolling through my Instagram is as inspiring as it is torturing. And not just because of the food. Those crazy California people are constantly on the beach, or hiking, or at the farmer's market, or just outside in the sun being awesome and tan and happy.

I'm not ashamed to say that I totally want to be them. I would love that life. I'll spare you my rendition of Ariel's "Part of Your World" but just so you know--that's the general sentiment here.

Not that I don't love upstate New York. The Adirondacks are one of my favorite places ever to have visited and by far the best place I've ever lived (Vermont, you're a very close second). Mountains are definitely on the required list for any place that I may settle down in. Sorry, Ithaca, but your hills don't count as mountains. I love the ocean too, though. Or a large body of water at least. Mountains and ocean would be ideal (can you see why the west coast is desirable?).

I've been to California twice in my life. The first time--which I don't really count--was marching in the Rose Bowl Parade with the Pride of Missouri State University marching band. I don't count it because a) it was Pasadena, and b) we only went to all the most touristy, corporate, commercial spots that part of southern California had to offer (like Disneyland, outlet malls, etc). It was rushed and hectic and all of my time was pre-planned for me. I didn't get to explore or have any kind of adventure. Thus, I don't consider that as getting a true California experience.

Luckily, the second time I visited California was the complete opposite of the first. The summer after I moved to New York, my boyfriend and I drove cross-country to hike the John Muir Trail. We started in Yosemite National Park, and three weeks--and 250 miles--later stepped off of Mount Whitney. I could write dozens of blog posts about how awesome that trip was, but suffice it to say that is what I think of when I think of California. The dry, rocky, towering ominous peaks. The lush valleys. The crystal clear glacial lakes. The wildlife. The cowboys and the pack mules. Sleeping under the stars. The sunshine. The sunshine, people.

And that was only a very small section of the state. I want to go back and go to northern California. And Oregon. And Washington. I'm seriously lacking in west coast experiences. My grandmother gave my a guide to bicycling the Pacific Coast a long time ago and I keep it on the shelf because there is a part of my still determined to make the trip someday. Maybe I will. Maybe I'll hike the Pacific Crest Trail instead. Maybe I'll do both.

These are things that cross my mind as I'm looking at yet another meal posted to Instagram with fresher ingredients than I could ever dream of, or reading about another food blogger using limes or lemons from their backyard tree.

I guess if I wanted to, I could have an indoor lemon tree. I do have fig trees indoors. But I dream about my figs growing outside in the ground. Maybe someday.

Someday.

Maybe.

day 32: dangerous territory

Whoever first decided that the end of the school year--and thus final exams--should coincide with the beginning of spring and the first few days of truly pleasant weather after a long six months of cold, dreary misery can go jump off a cliff.

It is entirely too difficult to get anything done when the weather is like it was today (and will be tomorrow, and the rest of the next three months, probably), and now--with only one week left of classes--is when I need to be buckling down and studying more than ever.

This is a dangerous place to be in because the end is in sight. More than in sight even, nearly within reach, and I am looking forward to my summer plans so much.

Yesterday I met with the Department of Natural Resources graduate student who will be my supervisor for the research project I'll be working on. We talked logistics for the job and paper work and all that, but then she also gave me a list of birds to brush up on and made sure I had my own binoculars and field guide.

I left that meeting on a little bit of a high just knowing that it is literally part of my job description to go out hiking and simply identify birds. I'm not exactly sure why but this makes me incredibly happy (college-aged me getting her undergraduate degree in wildlife biology would be very pleased with present-day me on this).

I'd much rather spend my time doing that rather than memorizing pharmacological effects on the respiratory system. In fact, there is very little I've studied and learned thus far that excites me as much as the idea of being out in nature and surveying birds. Does this mean I'm in the wrong profession?

I keep telling myself, No! I'm right where I need to be. (But am I? The voice of doubt in my head is strong these days.)

Quickly, I am approaching the perceived point of no return--even if something drastic should happen or I should change my mind completely, I will feel stuck in my current path because of the huge time and financial investment I've made. This is an extremely stressful place to be, and that's on top of the stress of being a veterinary student in and of itself.

The only solution I can see right now is to wait it out--get through the next two weeks, enjoy the summer, see how I handle research, come back in the fall refreshed, and go forward from there. I know I will need to start making some big moves to get the experiences it takes to get onto a path I can feel comfortable and excited about within the veterinary field. But I just don't have the fortitude to find those now, or dedicate energy to stressing about the fact that I haven't found them yet.

I apologize if this stream of consciousness sounds like gibberish. I have a lot of stuff going on in my head, and it's overwhelming to me most of the time, so I can't imagine what it must be like to try to process for those who are outside of my head (which is everyone).

So I will try to spare you any more of my variations of the theme of doubt (it's a recurring theme--a motif, if you will), and stick to more accessible topics (food) because that's why I started this whole blog thing in the first place.

It wasn't my intention for this to become a version of my personal diary with thoughts on all things, even those not remotely related to my Whole30 experiment. Then again--perhaps that is just what I need.

day 31: free pass

I'm surprised (and frankly, impressed) with how consistently I've been able to post to this blog pretty much every day of my Whole30. Therefore, tonight I am totally phoning it in.

This brief message is all I can muster. For whatever reason, I'm really low on energy and motivation today.

My bed is too enticing, and I've used up all my will power for today.

Tomorrow is going to be gorgeous and sunny and warm so no doubt I will be out and about and will have some awesome adventure to chronicle.

But not today. Today is over. This week is over. Finally. And now it's time to sleep.