Eating at a conference-- an allergy nightmare

This past weekend I attended the Washington State Dietetic Association's annual conference. Despite the fact that it was a conference for nutrition professionals, and despite the fact that on my registration form I did check boxes for gluten and dairy intolerance, there was virtually nothing I could eat. I had to get over my chicken aversion quickly, since chicken salad ended up being the only thing I could eat at pretty much every meal. The first morning breakfast was white-bread bagels with cream cheese and "light" yogurt (i.e. full of artificial sweeteners). I think there was some kind of pastry as well. Really? A low-fiber, refined grain, artificially sweetened gluten and dairy filled bonanza? Pathetic. Thankfully my friend had a larabar and an apple in the car or I would have starved. (Granted, I should have planned ahead and brought my own food, but that's another story).

Two of my girlfriends and I stayed with one of their family members (a third friend stayed at a hotel because he is a boy and that was what was appropriate. Aren't we old fashioned? ;))

My friend's family wanted to make dinner for us the second night. It was a really sweet gesture, but everything she wanted to make for us was full of gluten, dairy and sugar. Thankfully, my friends are nutrition students and incredibly understanding about my allergies and we were able to make alternate arrangements and go out to dinner.

I just goes to show, even at a state-wide conference for nutrition professionals, you are not guaranteed healthy, real food. What is this world coming to?

Recipe for Rage Pie

I lost my mind today over a pie crust. I was taking a cooking class at school. The instructor claims to be very into "intuitive" cooking-- where you follow a basic template but not so much a recipe. What is funny about this is he is actually the most inflexible cooking teacher I have had at Bastyr. Today was pie day. I had emailed him earlier this week about making gluten-free pie crust and he had not given me a very specific answer, but in class he said he wanted us to only do whole-wheat crust because he is not knowledgeable about gluten-free baking and he wanted us to do something he could help us with. I told him I wanted to try it anyway, since I would never make a regular pie outside of the class since I can't eat it- he said it was about cooking for other people and I said my nutrition practice is going to be centered on helping people with food allergies and we were back and forth etc. At this point other members of the class (who were all gathered watching us have this debate) started offering suggestions on ways I could make a gluten-free crust work, which just further infuriated our instructor. He turned to me and said today I want you to focus on making a wheat crust. This was the LAST STRAW for me in a very emotional frustrating week. I am always the person who sucks it up and smiles when I don't want to and takes it when my boss yells at me and does what I'm "supposed" to do. Well not today. I turned around, grabbed my stuff and left without another word. I marched upstairs to the registrar's office, withdrew from the class, got in my car and drove home. Extreme? yes. Irrational? Perhaps, but I am SO tired of being told NO. I was auditing the class for my personal enjoyment-- it was not any kind of requirement and I no longer found it enjoyable so I left. I'm still very angry and I know if I watch myself from a distance that this had less to do with pie crust and a lot more to do with built up anger and frustration from the events of earlier this week, but I don't care. I'm home early and I'm taking my chickens outside. I don't need pie thank you very much.

Perspective

I spent Monday and Tuesday moping around feeling sorry for myself. On Monday two of my friends who also were unhappy with the results of internship matching came over and we laid in the rare 70 degree sunshine while the chickens scratched happily at the dirt in their outdoor pen. We cried, we complained and we took comfort in our shared misery. We also ate guacamole, chips and coconut bliss and tried to take comfort in our indulgence.

On Tuesday I had planned to get back to my life and get some work done, but I couldn't quite find the motivation in my still wounded soul. So instead I put the chickens in a box (to loud unhappy protest) and transported them outside to their temporary outdoor pen and I lay in the sun for several hours. I'm finding I actually have a pretty limited appetite and struggled to find anything appealing to eat. My brother came over to visit the chicks and somehow it was easier to tell him of my plight, since he knew very little of the process and could say "that sucks" and move on. I managed to get slightly sunburned, and some kind of insect bite on the back of my leg and it felt like summer time. In my attempt to change my own perspective I took the above pictures of where I sat, and the grass as I saw it when I was sitting.

Yesterday it was truly back to my life as I had a full day of classes. I am so very fortunate to have so many wonderful friends who were very concerned for me. I'm not going to lie though-- it was hard to be back at the institution that did not want me. I had a bit of a meltdown during my first class and had to sit outside until it passed. It was a long and dreary day.

I am working towards changing my perspective. I am lucky to have gotten an internship at all-- not everyone did. And it is not going to be a bad experience-- I simply need to reframe my vision of the future. This will take time, but I'm getting there slowly.

When life gives you lemons

I am not, by nature, a pessimist. But I am also not one of those irritating eternal optimists that immediately finds the silver lining no matter what the situation. Last night I got some very bad news. The internship I had wanted badly, that I practically killed myself trying to be impressive to get for over two years, does not want me. Neither does my second choice, the only other internship in Seattle. Instead I am left hoping that my third choice, which is in Tacoma, two hours South of my house in Lynnwood, will have someone turn them down so they will take me. The ramifications of this are huge. First of all, there is the devastation that comes from working so hard for something and not achieving it. I can not tell you how many of my peers assumed I was a shoo-in for this internship, having seemingly achieved all of the milestones essential for entrance. It is hard not to be a little bitter, as I have given my heart and soul for two years to this place and have been given nothing in return. Secondly, there are the logistics-- South Tacoma is much too far to commute from North Lynnwood. Marc and I will have to leave our house, our garden, and very possibly, our chickens behind for 9 months. This breaks my heart. I know two years from now when I have completed my RD and I am working as a dietitian I will say that it all worked out for the best. But right now, on three hours of sleep, with puffy eyes and a broken spirit, it is hard to see that far ahead.

The Safety Corner

There is a reason that people are called "chickens" when they are afraid of everything is because chickens are SO NERVOUS! We keep trying to give the chicks a little bit of greens and they are terrified of lettuce! This morning I put a very small piece of lettuce in the far right side of their box. They all ran to what we call the "safety corner" the far-left corner between the food and the water dish. They have been there for HOURS even though I removed the lettuce a long time ago. If it gets warm tomorrow we might let them explore outside for awhile-- if they can overcome their fear of green things long enough to explore the grass!

Everything hurts

I asked Jillian to kick my ass (through the pages of her book) and she has delivered. This morning I got up around 9 and went straight to the gym. When I got there I realized it had been 14 hours since I had eaten anything-- not the best plan. The gym was also crowded which makes circuits difficult-- oh and I was sore from yesterday. Never-the-less, I got started on day 2's circuit. It was all fine until I got to the first sprint-- each workout has 5 circuits, and in each circuit there are 3-5 exercises followed by a one minute cardio sprint. Today's involved running at a 10 incline for a minute, this after numerous step-ups and lunges. First of all, the cardio is supposed to happen immediately after ending the circuit-- a problem since the weights are on a different floor than the cardio machines at my gym. Also, it was so crowded it took awhile to find an available treadmill. I did get through the first sprint-- afterwards I was breathing so hard and my legs felt like someone had replaced my bones with cooked pasta-- I had to sit down on the treadmill for a few minutes before I could make it back up the stairs. The next circuit involved many many lunges. If I thought my legs felt weak before, this was nothing compared to the utter demolition of my quadriceps that followed-- it was all downhill from there. The next sprint I had to stop twice to get through it.

I think it would have helped if I had fueled my body before working out. It is a good thing I didn't have a busy day planned-- I have literally been vegging out on the couch all day-- every time I try and get off the couch it's torture-- it takes a couple tries to even stand up!! If this doesn't kill me it will definitely get me in shape.

A journey to my core

Once upon a time, these were my abs. When I was in undergrad, had a 20 year old’s metabolism and I would have classified myself as a “gym rat.” I worked out an hour a day, 5 or 6 days a week—some days I went more than once. Eight years of full-time work and school and I definitely am missing those abs—and I think it’s safe to say my husband does too—I rediscovered this picture when it appeared as his wallpaper on his computer. These days, I spend the majority of the day sitting—at work, in class, writing this blog— at most I get to yoga a couple times a week and the gym once every couple of weeks. I would be rather mortified to show you what is going on down there now-- lots of sitting has made those abs go into serious hiding.

I should mention I am very picky about workouts. I come from the school of “go hard or go home.” I don’t even do easy yoga—it’s Bikram yoga in a 110 degree room or I’m not interested. I am not one of these girls that dinks around with the 3 pound weights for 2 sets of ten and then reads a magazine while walking on the treadmill. I get BORED unless I'm challenged. I get annoyed in aerobics classes that require coordination (a trait I sadly do not posess) and I don't care to be yelled at by a well meaning drill sergeant. I need loud cheesy pop music in my headphones, a gym that is not too crowded, and I am good to go.

To aid me on my new quest to rediscover my abs, I have enlisted the help of Jillian Michaels, ass-kicking trainer from the Biggest Loser. Since I don’t think she is willing to fly to Seattle and workout with me for free, I purchased her book “Making the Cut”. This is not a book for the faint of heart—I did the first workout today and it was NO JOKE. The dainty bobby pins I used to hold my bangs out of my face were no match for the rigors of Jillian’s program—within the first ten minutes my hair was sticking out in every direction and sweat was dripping off my nose as rapidly as it does in Bikram yoga and I assure you the gym was not 100 degrees. There were some things I simply could not do—20 squat thrusts after I’d already been pushing myself for 30 minutes? No. I think I got through 8 before I collapsed in a heap. One full minute of mountain climbers after so many pushups my arms and shoulders were jelly? Um, no. I did the best I could and powered through it for an hour and I can safely say I haven’t done a workout so hard in at least two years. It was hard and I sweated and swore and silently cursed Jillian—and I had a really good time doing it!

The trick for me will be consistency. Every once in a while I get inspired and workout 6 times in one week and then some how I end up not working out at all for 2 more weeks. My schedule continues to be busy, but I am realizing that there is never going to be a time in my life when it is going to be easy to fit in a workout—I’m just going to have to make it a priority and stop making excuses. Jillian’s program is 30 days and I am determined to seriously improve my fitness (which is at an all-time low) and maybe find those abs I lost along the academic highway.