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.

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 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 38: haiku too

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

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 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 29: don't worry, just be

Life is funny.

One minute I'm relaxing on a sunny patch of grass and the next I'm having a mini panic attack because my back feels sore for no reason like it did the first time I had a spasm two months ago.

Is it strange to think that the stress I felt in the past few days from my computer and financial woes had manifested in my back?

(By the way, my laptop charger miraculously--because there is no other explanation--started working again today. Don't ask how. Just go with it.)

Is this going to be my life now? Every twinge, every stiffness, every pop, every little sensation is going to send me down a spiral of worry? How will I ever accomplish anything?

My mind immediately begins asking a million questions: Have I hurt myself? Did I try to do too much too soon (but I'm barely doing anything!)? Have I made the problem worse? Am I not ready to be "back in the game", as they say?

...Am I overreacting?

I have my arsenal of therapeutic exercises. I have walks. I have epsom salt baths. I have my supportive pillows. I have all the tools. I know all the right things to do.

It's a good thing too because now I'm hyper-aware of everything in my body. This could be construed in two ways. On the one hand, I can "listen" to my body, understand, and act accordingly. On the other hand, I notice every little ache and pain and assume the worst.

I can't help but fear that my back is now going to be like some elderly people's knees--they know when a storm is coming because they can feel the barometric pressure change in their joints. This is what I have to look forward to, folks.

Not only will I have to be careful with what I do as far as physical activities go but also, if I have a stressful day at school or an emotional conversation with a loved one, chances are I'm going to be feeling it in my back in the days following.

I'm worried today. I'm scared that I'm going to screw something up and hurt myself more. And I'm worried that my worry about this is contributing to the problem (you see it's a vicious cycle).

/sigh

Well, I did what I could today to mitigate disaster. I'm feeling better (though I'm having trouble shaking the thought of how I don't want to sleep in a funny position and really wake up sore tomorrow).

I'd like to make some optimistic/inspiring "tomorrow will be better" statement, but I just don't have it in me right now. For all I know, it might not be better. It will just be. And there's no prior judgment of that. It just is.

day 28: silver lining

Yesterday I lucked out and stumbled upon blood oranges at the co-op in Syracuse where I stopped for provisions on my drive back from Lake Placid. This may seem insignificant but I have been hunting for blood oranges for over a month now (they are one of my favorite fruits and supremely special because they remind me of Italy). I think I have perused every grocery store in Ithaca--multiple times over--trying to find some to no avail.

So I was filled with surprise, glee, and gratitude (in that order) that this little crunchy granola place in the middle of residential neighborhood stocked them. Naturally I bought all they had (it was only four oranges). This was the perfect end to a stellar weekend away. I was over the moon.

Until last night, when the laptop charger debacle struck.

I am equal parts amazed by and ashamed of how easily my life crumbles when something as mundane and materialistic as not being able to charge my computer happens to me. I have had virtually no bad days since I started this journey almost a month ago now (save my caffeine withdrawal--but even then, my mood was good in spite of the headache and fatigue and I easily overcame it).

However, take away my access to iTunes and Netflix and suddenly I'm a blubbering mess. God forbid I occupy my time at home with a book, or a phone call to a family member. How will I ever stave off the loneliness if I can't fill the silent void with a constant stream of Pandora and old episodes of Radiolab?

The school work I can manage, I guess, even though I'd prefer NOT to study with a jackhammer literally running on the other side of the wall all the time (thanks, vet school construction). It messes with my time flexibility a lot, but then again, doesn't being flexible require that you "make it work" in situations like this?

So I'm struggling with a little pessimism right now--be it about my financial situation, my ability to achieve my goals academically, or simply being comfortable with myself alone in my apartment. But the thing that is different about this than before is that I can recognize the struggle and take responsibility for not being a sour puss.

Enter blood oranges.

I could easily give up on today, convinced that the world hates me and no matter what I do, things will go all wrong. OR--I could sit outside in the sun and eat a blood orange, realizing that yes, I've had better days, but I am capable of getting through this one.

You see, a blood orange is terrible thing to waste on feeling sorry for oneself. And I can't help thinking that I didn't go into that co-op in Syracuse by chance. Those little round packs of ombre ruby citrus heaven were waiting for me. And today, they brightened my day amidst clouds of doubt and choking back tears.

In contrast to how easily my life crumbles sometimes, I am equally as amazed that something as simple as a piece of fruit can turn it around. Or at the very least--provide the catalyst I need to decide that I can turn things around myself.

day 24: a mountain man and a polar bear

No blog post tonight because I'm busy snuggling with my boys.

day 23: pumping the brakes

I got some really good news today.

My physical therapist gave me the go-ahead to try running again (okay, more like jogging). He recommended going out walking for 10-15 minutes to get warmed up, then jogging at an easy pace for 10-15 minutes, and finishing by walking again for at least 5-10 minutes to cool down. "And then see how I feel."

So far in my life, I've run two marathons, three half-marathons, countless 5k and 10k races, and logged immeasurable miles on the roads and trails. Gun to my head now, I guess I would probably call myself a "runner". Since I got into weightlifting, I continued to run but no longer for distance or endurance like I had in the past.  It was something to do to stretch my legs in between lift days--a way to get sprint intervals in to train my explosive muscle fibers, and of course to get the pup all worn out.

So it goes without saying that not running has left a kind of void for a while.

The thought of running now--heart pumping, wind whipping through my ponytail, the methodical left-right-left-right--gets me excited. Like excited excited.

As soon as I got out of therapy today I wanted to ditch my car and run all the way home. This would have been a bad idea for multiple reasons--only two of which being that my house is WAY more than a 15 minute jog from school, and I had already spent time on the elliptical today because the weather was crap (read: snow).

It's so nice to be healthy enough to be able to do things again. EXCEPT! I want to do all the things. I want to ride my bike to school, get a lift in, ride home, go for a run, do a little yoga, skate around, hit some bitches--

Oh, and be a full-time vet student. There's that teensy-weensy detail.

Two-months-ago me says, "DO IT! DO ALL THE THINGS! YOU CAN MAKE IT WORK!"

Present-day me says, "Hey now, hold on, wait a minute! You did a nice full-body workout at the gym today, you don't also need to run. Give your muscles the chance to recover. Make a nice meal. Stretch. Soak in the tub. Plus, are you going to be able to run AND get your schoolwork finished AND get to bed at a reasonable hour? You know all that training is for not if you don't get enough rest!"

Present-day me is so darn rational sometimes.

I've been cooped up for so long now, it sort of feels like I'm breaking out. And in my new found freedom, I have the opportunity to do all these things I haven't been able to--and I want to do them all, now.

But I shouldn't.

Just because I can run and I can skate doesn't mean I can do so with abandon...yet.

Old habits are hard to break (understatement, much?) and I so desperately want to avoid relapsing into old two-months-ago me who didn't take care of her (my) body that I'm willing to endure the slow climb. It has been a long time coming from being immobilized on my floor with a heating pad and a vile of muscle relaxers to doing full wheel pose pain-free and thinking of nothing else but my posture and core engagement during any activity, be it sitting in lecture, walking, riding my bike, or even lounging at home.

I say this with confidence: things are going to be different from now on. I am different. I am better.

However, I am not fixed. I am forever changed and I cannot and will not ever go back. I will find a way to balance all of those wonderful things I love in my life (key word--BALANCE). It will not happen today, or tomorrow, or probably next week. But with time, I will find a way.

Full disclosure: I'm going for a run tomorrow. It may only be 15 minutes, but I will savor it. Then I will treat my body with care so that I can wake up the next day and each day after that ready to take on new challenges and continue to grow more powerful while maintaining balance.

My engine is revving. Blow the whistle, fire the pistol, wave the flag--here I go!

day 18: bicyclists and motorists, a rant

When I can I commute by bike, but I also own a car so I'm allowed to say this to drivers: You suck.

You think you're being nice by giving me a wide berth as you pass, but really what you're doing is putting yourself--and me!--in a lot of danger. I don't care how courteous you think you're being, don't blame me when you die in a head-on collision because you crossed over the center line to get around me going over a hill or on a sharp turn. Take a breath and wait to pass safely, just like you would any other vehicle you're too impatient to drive behind on a country road.

Also, newsflash! I'm going faster than you think because when you speed up to pass me only to slam on your breaks to turn into the Dunkin' Donuts just ahead, I also have to lean on my breaks to prevent myself from ramming into your passenger side door. Again, be patient. God forbid you drive 5mph slower for a block and half before reaching your destination.

Next--hand signals. Learn them! Left arm outstretched--that's a left turn (DUH). Left arm cocked up at 90 degrees--that's a RIGHT turn (no really, it is). Left arm cocked down at 90 degrees--that's stopping. NOW YOU KNOW. No excuses. And no, the signal with a fist and one particular finger raised is NOT an appropriate way for vehicle operators to communicate their intentions.

And the things you say--or yell, rather--out of your car windows at me. Equal parts offensive, ignorant, and downright mean. What do think this is accomplishing? I hope you feel so superior now and your friends all had a good laugh. I'm sure when you get home, your daddy will finally tell you how proud he is of you.

In particular, telling me to "get on the sidewalk where I belong" is especially ineffective because last time I checked, the sideWALK was for PEDESTRIANS (It's not called a sideride, now is it?), or did you not see the pretty yellow sign with the picture of a bicycle that says "Share the Road"? Perhaps you missed the lessons on sharing and learning to read back when you were in kindergarten.

The thing is, the weather is only going to get nicer and you're going to be seeing a lot more of me and my fellow cyclists out and about. SO GET YOURSELF TOGETHER and get used to it.

And speaking of my fellow cyclists--you are not exempt from judgement!

For the love of whatever you hold dear, follow the rules of the road. There is no special code for people riding bicycles that allows them to ride through stop signs. This is not surprising news. I know you know this. Take freaking responsibility. You are the reason all of the above jerks treated me like crap today.

I can't single-handedly gain respect back for the cycling community by riding safely and responsibly. I can single-handedly flip everyone the bird as I blaze by all the cars stuck in downtown rush hour traffic.

(But I won't. Unless you deserve it.)

End rant.

day 16: fat makes you phat

Yesterday I had my usual spaghetti squash and meaty marinara sauce lunch with some blackberries and pineapple. It was delicious (as always), but I was hungry at 4:00pm.

I have this problem where I still "get hungry" in the late afternoon. I'm usually pretty good in the morning, never growling for lunch until around noon. I eat breakfast between 6:30 and 7:00am every morning so that's a solid five and a half hours when I rarely give food a second thought (this is phenomenal, by the way, I love not needing to snack all the time).

But more often than not that late afternoon "tea time" rolls around and I feel peckish. In an effort not to snack, I instead end up eating a relatively early dinner, then I'm fighting off the urge to have a late evening something because I "get hungry" again before bed.

I wondered, if I can make it six hours after breakfast, why can't I after lunch?

The simple answer is: fat.

So today just for kicks I plopped a big spoonful of ghee on my pre-made spaghetti squash lunch before packing it in my lunchbox. I included pineapple and berries again for continuity and went on my merry way.

Lunchtime came and I sat outside in the sun and enjoyed my food. The type and volume of food was basically the same as yesterday (still super yummy), but the satiety level was way up because of the extra ghee. I also made a point of eating the fruit mid-meal instead of eating it last.

I bet you want to know if I was hungry at 4:00pm today.

The simple answer to this is: No, I wasn't--and that's even despite having exercised and expended more energy today than yesterday.

What does this mean for me?

EAT MORE FAT*.

It takes constant reinforcement because I'm still a little brainwashed to fear fat, but it really makes all the difference between being fully-satisfied by a meal and wanting to graze a couple hours later. I mean, which would you rather rationalize calorie-wise (if you're thinking in terms of calories, which I never do anymore either--also awesome): maybe a couple hundred calories in fat added in the form of something delicious like ghee, avocado, olive oil, egg yolks, coconut oil, etc. or probably several hundred calories in spontaneous, most-likely processed convenience food-like snacks to "tied you over" until the next real meal?

I'd rather have the fat. Hands down. Especially since I'm cooking my meal and I can be really deliberate and purposeful about what and how much I'm using.

*It's necessary to clarify that there is a spectrum on which we lie when it comes to appropriate fat consumption. Your current physical state (i.e. body fat vs. lean mass percentages), your daily level of activity, hormonal balance, etc. will all influence where you are on that spectrum.

I believe I am becoming what It Starts With Food refers to as "fat-adapted", meaning my hormones are in the right proportions to begin burning my fat stores for sustained low-level energy rather than needing a constant influx of glucose from my diet (i.e. snacking).

This doesn't happen overnight. In fact, I have no idea how long it truly takes (it may be much longer than 30 days). But I get the sense it's starting to happen to me. By eating well-balanced meals that include the appropriate amount of healthy fats, I'm training my body to use that to get through the day. So instead of overwhelming my system with glucose that may ultimately get stored as fat (thanks, wonky hormones)--by eating fat, I'm actually burning fat!

Mind = blown.

So far, my psychology is still trying to sabotage that nice plan to burn fat by demanding a sweet snack when I don't really need it. The sugar dragon doesn't let go easily. But feeding it fat rather than sugar shuts it up temporarily.

So you can bet I'm going to keep being liberal with ghee in the skillet at all times. I will not hesitate to put avocado on anything and everything (let's be real--is there any food that isn't improved by avocado?). Coconut milk, coconut oil, cashews, almonds, oh my! And bacon! All the bacon.

The possibilities are endless and delicious. Here's to letting go of my fat fears and falling in love with fat freedom.

day 15: better than before

Today was one of those days when I needed to take a step back and assess.

Things seem to be going really well. Overall, I feel so much better. Not just my digestive health because of the good food, but my whole body feels good. My physical therapy is progressing nicely and every day I feel closer to getting back to the fitness level I was before all my sacro-iliac stuff went downhill.

Except I don't want to go back to that. Not anymore.

For almost two months I have felt like a shell of my former self, unable to do any of the physical activities that I loved and thought defined so much of who I was. I was frustrated and depressed because I felt like an inferior person. And it was constantly disconcerting because I wasn't sure if I'd ever get back to "normal".

Recently I decided, this is my new normal.

At first, it felt like defeat, like I was back at square one. But I've been reminding myself (very often, as often as possible), that I'm not back at square one--I may be at square two or three in some areas but I'm definitely not back at square one. In fact, if we're really making comparisons (which I'm trying my best not to do in general), I'm actually ahead of where I was because I've learned some stuff about myself and about balance that I believe will better me in the long run--

And prevent me from ending up where I was two months ago:

Over-worked, over-stressed, over-trained, sleep-deprived, under-nourished (more like--inappropriately-nourished), bottled-up emotionally, and unbalanced in pretty much every way I can think of.

Why would I want to achieve that "normal" again?

I'm still a weightlifter, a derby girl, a runner, a yogi, a bicyclist, skiier, hiker, etc. etc.--I'm still all the those things. But I'm also someone who makes sacrifices in exchange for good sleep, good nutrition, and proper recovery. I'm someone who takes baths regularly, who stretches daily, who is constantly aware of their posture.

Old me cheated myself out of lot of good things and ultimately paid for it. Knowing what I know now, I want to be better than I was before and more conscious of the demands I place on myself. I'm extremely cautious to jump right back into all my activities for fear of falling into old habits along with them.

So I may not be throwing up crazy heavy weights at gym or skating hard in scrimmages (or at all)--YET--but when I do, I will be stronger, more stable, more aware, and more sustainable as an athlete and all-around active member of society than two-months-ago-me could ever dream of being.

It has taken a while to get to this point. And some days I still get frustrated because I wish I could do more right now. But this is what I can do today.

And tomorrow, I'll be listening for my body to tell me what I can do next.

day 14: outta bed ya sleepyhead

When my alarm went off this morning, I jolted up in bed. Usually, the sound fades in from out of the fog in my mind and I suddenly realize it's getting louder and louder before reaching to turn it off.

But it startled me this morning.

I was startled because after laying my head on the pillow some eight hours before, I did not stir--that I was conscious of--until BOOM! it was morning.

This is a big deal.

Before last night, I could honestly say that I didn't remember the last time I slept soundly through the night. 

Let me say that again. In my known memory--meaning all of my 20s, college, high school, basically back to middle school--I don't really remember ever sleeping that soundly. I've always classified myself as a "light sleeper": easily roused by noises, another person rolling over in the bed, or my own need to go to the bathroom.

In recent years, caffeine consumption has probably played a pretty big role. I liked to tell myself that it wasn't affecting me that much since I never really had trouble falling asleep initially at night. Even knowing the half-life of caffeine being about six hours didn't stop me from drinking some caffeinated-beverages as late in the evening as eight or nine some nights. Who did I think I was kidding? Of course that is going to affect my sleep!

So the caffeine was my fault. My bad. Now it's out of my system. 

As far as I can tell, I don't NEED it. My energy levels are fine without it--better even. I do like the taste of coffee (I'm such an adult) so I may have it occasionally in the future (but only first thing in the morning). Anyway, I'm head over heels obsessed with this certain brand of rooibos tea that rocks my world literally every day and there's no shame in making that my new go-to hot beverage (sorry I'm not sorry, Starbucks).

So I've tackled the caffeine problem. The next thing I would point to as sabotaging my sleep is anxiety.

That's a work in progress--but as I've alluded to multiple times already in this journey--nutrition is linked with a lot of factors, and everything together seems to be improving my overall state of well-being, including soothing some of my anxieties. So in general, I'm not so much directly addressing my anxiety issues as they relate to sleep, but I am noticing indirectly how other things in my life (vis-a-vis addressing nutrition, being active, interacting socially, and consequently, sleeping better) are affecting my anxiety levels. 

But more on nutrition (of course, right?). When it comes to sleeping well, I've never really considered that what I was eating was a big factor. I mean, I guess I'd heard that you shouldn't eat right before bed because then your GI system is actively trying to digest while you're sleeping and that can be disruptive. But the hormonal things happening when I'm asleep--and how my food affected those hormones--was completely off my radar.

No more! Consider me a believer. I don't care if it's just the caffeine-free life, just the good food, or a necessary combination of both, I'm on board.

I'm excited to get ready for bed just so I can sleep so well again and wake up even more refreshed and rearing to go tomorrow.

But beware--too many of these nights of sound sleep in a row and I may become unstoppable.