Last week I had a wee revelation about what it means to take care of myself. I already thought I was pretty good at that. I let myself laze around and read mysteries when I'm stressed. I always get enough sleep. I catch myself quickly when I'm being hard on myself, and I check in with my husband or a friend when something is bothering me, so I can work it out without it dragging on and draining me. I stopped drinking. It sounds pretty good, right?
But I wasn't feeling great. I realized that, while the first time I quit drinking (back in July 2013) I felt healthy and energized, lately I was feeling a little bit logy and a little bit foggy more often than made sense. Yes, I have some stress going on, with writing a thesis and having some school applications in process, but I've had these kinds of stresses on and off since I went back to school a few years ago, and they didn't seem to have the same effect.
Might be an age thing, pre-meno, sure. But I started to think about what I could do to feel better. And I made a decision: It was time to slay the sugar monster!
After a few months getting back into the groove of not drinking again, I had found myself eating a lot of sugar. I mean, a lot! I know, lots of people go through this. But for years, I'd got used to eating a very low sugar diet, and it suited me. The first time I quit drinking, I was quite annoyed by how many people encouraged me to eat cake and ice cream, something I generally didn't do because I learned years ago that feel a bit crappy when I have too much sugar. Over time I kind of gave in. I figured some of the pleasures of sweet treats would be OK. First I was cheerfully having dessert when I ate out, which was only once in a while. But eventually, I was going to the bakery most afternoons, or grabbing a sugary trail bar or a cookie at school, or nibbling on toast at home. Since quitting drinking again this past fall, I seemed to be relying on sweets in a way that I hadn't in years.
Recently I've had a recurring eye infection that was resisting treatment. I was feeling brain foggy and slow and a bit podgy. I had even started baking, which meant licking the batter bowl, and having sweets on hand all the time, without even having to leave the house! I'd noticed that when I went to a certain bakery, I was a little too intense about wanting the golden beet cake with cream cheese icing. There were also a couple of uncomfortable incidents with almond croissants, and once I ended up apologizing to the lovely woman at the counter because she'd sold me the last one and then was letting her coworker serve it to someone else. (Imagine an otherwise pleasant middle-aged woman morphing into a cranky toddler and saying, in a sharp and not too quiet voice, "Hey, isn't that MY croissant?!!" It was, but still, there's no need to bite someone's head off about it. Jeepers.) I felt about those croissants the way I used to about my favourite wine, and seeing it served to someone else (after I'd bought it!) was like watching someone pour the last of the bottle into their own glass. Just writing it makes me feel unstable! Everything about the way I was eating sweets was looking like the way I used to drink. Except it was something I could do any time of day, not just during the evening. Dang! Last Tuesday, I decided that was enough, and I stopped.
Now I'm not trying some fancy new regime here. Just no sugar. And no bread. Easy on the fruit. Lots of veg and fish and plenty of butter and olive oil and eggs and some meat and cheese and nuts, that sort of thing. When I ate like this before, it seemed to suit me well. I know it sounds like I'm talking about restrictions, but the restrictions set me up to structure healthy meals instead of basing my food choices around sweets and convenience.
Already I feel more energized. I started running again, just a little, which suits me. And I've been cycling, something I love but had really stopped doing. And drinking lots of water, and teas. I'm down a couple of pounds and have lost a few inches off the waist already, and my eye is clearing up. It hasn't been hard, and I feel pretty good about it.
It's tricky to try to find how to take care of ourselves. In the recovery world, there are so many voices, and they all offer solutions that sound beguiling. Some advocate a treats-based regimen, others do yoga. Some people run, some meditate. People go to meetings or they don't, or they go back and forth on that one. Some people pray, others are committed atheists. Some find themselves through introspection, others lose themselves in service. I like trying new things, but it's a fine line between trying some new things to see if they suit and adopting new bad habits to replace the old ones. That's what I think I had been doing with food. So to me, these days, taking care means paying attention to what's not working, and stopping that. It means getting back to what seems to work for me, which is--it's not rocket science here--eating well and exercising enough!
On a bigger scale, I think all of my regular versions of self care fall under giving myself a break. But taking care might sometimes mean the opposite. It could be getting up early to work on my thesis so I have another page or two written. It might mean running when I'm feeling lazy (how about right now?) or cycling in the rain because I'll feel better once I do. I used to be better at all this. Somehow, I think I adopted the idea that quitting drinking was such a herculean task, so any discomfort I had about anything else had to be assuaged because I wasn't drinking and I deserved it. But that's silly. Getting sober is great, but it's something I did so I could live more fully. Letting myself off the hook once in a while when I'm feeling challenged is probably necessary. But sometimes, maybe even often, pushing myself is probably closer to what I need to do to take good care of myself.
Anyway, that's where I am these days. Just taking care, and keeping on trying to figure out what that means to me.
If you're still here, thanks for reading. I hope you're finding out how to best take care of yourself, too. Me, I'm heading out for a short run! Peace and joy and happy trails to you!
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Showing posts with label running. Show all posts
Tuesday, 2 February 2016
Wednesday, 2 April 2014
Round 2, Day 86: Cutting the crap, feeling pretty good.
I'm just 5 days away from the 13-week goal I set myself back in January. After that, I guess I'll stop counting days again. I'm not really counting now, but when I post I look it up. The numbers are starting to matter a lot less. Initially it mattered a lot, though. I wanted to know where I was in the process compared to last time around, and when it was really tough, somehow it helped me a lot to see that I'd already done this once before. Now, at 12 weeks and a couple of days, I feel good. This not drinking thing has been a bit of work, but it's worth it!
This past week, I decided to make some changes in my eating. For the past couple of years, I've been eating mostly whole foods without much wheat or sugar, and it works for me. Last time when I quit drinking, I stayed pretty firm on this, and I was really healthy. I occasionally had a sweet, or ate a bit too much dark chocolate, but nothing too serious. This time, I fell into thinking that having sweets as "treats" was the way to go. What bollocks! I feel like crap when I eat a big wodge of cake or lots of sugar. Really, really crap. That's why I changed how I ate in the first place. So telling myself I deserve something that's going to make me feel awful, just because I'm avoiding something else that would make me feel awful, it's just nonsense. (Disclaimer: I'm not the wheat and sugar police. Eat what you want! I'm just saying I don't feel good when I eat it, and I shouldn't be doing that. Some people seem able to eat loads, and they do OK. If that's you, good for you, It's not me, that's all I'm saying.)
Anyway, about a week ago, I realized I'd had enough. I had a little talk with myself, the way I have to, and said, that's it, no second cup of coffee as soon as the first one is done, because my one cup is actually a 4 ounce espresso, and 2 of those means I'm vibrating. And no more mainlining honey, or heading out for that giant slice of carrot cake that puts me in a coma, just because it's the afternoon and I'm on a big deadline and it's hard to cope. Sometimes I do crave a sweet. But a crisp apple, cut into little chunks sprinkled with cinnamon and crumbled walnuts and topped with a couple of tablespoons of strained plain yoghurt, that's real food. I can eat that, get a little hit of sweet, without the icky belly or the jittery sugar high and subsequent crash. Also, because it's real food, I'm not hungry later, and the sweet craving goes. In the evening, after dinner, I have a cup of herbal tea and two or three squares of dark chocolate, the 75% or 85% kind. No one's deprived over here! It tastes good, I eat it very, very slowly, and if I want more, I can have it the next night after dinner.
Also, I started moving again. Again, though I'm usually super active, lately I have a strange schedule, and for a few weeks I'd got out of both running and biking. So if the sugar wasn't making me feel awful, being stuck indoors sitting on a chair sure was. Jeepers! Friday afternoon I went for a run in the driving rain, and I was so happy I was giddy! Why was I not doing this? I don't know. Somehow, I'd started to get caught in some very poor thinking, and I lost the focus on what makes me feel well. I was using deadlines as an excuse, but really, I'm going to be on deadlines for the next six years (six years!) or more, so if I have to wait till that's over before I take better care, I'm done for. I'm in this for the long haul, and it will only work if I find a way to live that I can keep doing.
It's just been a few days, but I feel a lot better already. There is something about going into the kitchen and having a sweet when I know it's not great for me that's so much like drinking. When I do that, I'm on a kind of autopilot, and everything I've learned about what works best for me exists in some numb other-self while I head for the sugar. It's such a strange feeling. And it's easy to start excusing it, because the ex-drinkers are mostly a sugar-happy lot, and will say that the sugar isn't the worst you can do, and you have to be careful not to do too much at once, so eat up. Fair enough. You can't start a whole bunch of new habits at the same time, and for the first few weeks after quitting the drink, there is some serious sweet craving going on. But I'm past that part now. Dropping all my healthy habits can't be good either. If exercise and good eating sustains me, then avoiding it as a reward just isn't on.
In other news: I'm not too concerned about booze these days. I don't miss it often, and when I do, it's pretty easy to get around. Two days ago, I submitted the final draft of my thesis (hooray!!!) and when I hit "send" on my email, I yelled, "Someone please remind me why I don't drink any more, because this right now would be a good time to drink!" My partner was in the kitchen, and he poured us sparkling glasses of something (not booze!) so we could raise a toast. All in all, I wanted a drink for about ten seconds. Surely I can resist the occasional ten-second impulse!
At the dinner party I attended the other night, it wasn't awkward not drinking and, except for a moment when we arrived and I saw the pretty bottles and glasses lined up on the counter, I didn't want wine. Yes, those moments are work to get through. But my point (reminding myself here) is, they are only moments, and then there's the whole evening to enjoy, not staying stuck in those moments.
Three more days on deadlines and I have a little reprieve. Time to get back to work here. It's sunny and warm outdoors, so if I get a few pages done, I can go for a long walk in the afternoon, then come back and write a bit more. So enough lolly-gagging here.
Wishing you all peace and joy and sunny afternoons!
This past week, I decided to make some changes in my eating. For the past couple of years, I've been eating mostly whole foods without much wheat or sugar, and it works for me. Last time when I quit drinking, I stayed pretty firm on this, and I was really healthy. I occasionally had a sweet, or ate a bit too much dark chocolate, but nothing too serious. This time, I fell into thinking that having sweets as "treats" was the way to go. What bollocks! I feel like crap when I eat a big wodge of cake or lots of sugar. Really, really crap. That's why I changed how I ate in the first place. So telling myself I deserve something that's going to make me feel awful, just because I'm avoiding something else that would make me feel awful, it's just nonsense. (Disclaimer: I'm not the wheat and sugar police. Eat what you want! I'm just saying I don't feel good when I eat it, and I shouldn't be doing that. Some people seem able to eat loads, and they do OK. If that's you, good for you, It's not me, that's all I'm saying.)
Anyway, about a week ago, I realized I'd had enough. I had a little talk with myself, the way I have to, and said, that's it, no second cup of coffee as soon as the first one is done, because my one cup is actually a 4 ounce espresso, and 2 of those means I'm vibrating. And no more mainlining honey, or heading out for that giant slice of carrot cake that puts me in a coma, just because it's the afternoon and I'm on a big deadline and it's hard to cope. Sometimes I do crave a sweet. But a crisp apple, cut into little chunks sprinkled with cinnamon and crumbled walnuts and topped with a couple of tablespoons of strained plain yoghurt, that's real food. I can eat that, get a little hit of sweet, without the icky belly or the jittery sugar high and subsequent crash. Also, because it's real food, I'm not hungry later, and the sweet craving goes. In the evening, after dinner, I have a cup of herbal tea and two or three squares of dark chocolate, the 75% or 85% kind. No one's deprived over here! It tastes good, I eat it very, very slowly, and if I want more, I can have it the next night after dinner.
Also, I started moving again. Again, though I'm usually super active, lately I have a strange schedule, and for a few weeks I'd got out of both running and biking. So if the sugar wasn't making me feel awful, being stuck indoors sitting on a chair sure was. Jeepers! Friday afternoon I went for a run in the driving rain, and I was so happy I was giddy! Why was I not doing this? I don't know. Somehow, I'd started to get caught in some very poor thinking, and I lost the focus on what makes me feel well. I was using deadlines as an excuse, but really, I'm going to be on deadlines for the next six years (six years!) or more, so if I have to wait till that's over before I take better care, I'm done for. I'm in this for the long haul, and it will only work if I find a way to live that I can keep doing.
It's just been a few days, but I feel a lot better already. There is something about going into the kitchen and having a sweet when I know it's not great for me that's so much like drinking. When I do that, I'm on a kind of autopilot, and everything I've learned about what works best for me exists in some numb other-self while I head for the sugar. It's such a strange feeling. And it's easy to start excusing it, because the ex-drinkers are mostly a sugar-happy lot, and will say that the sugar isn't the worst you can do, and you have to be careful not to do too much at once, so eat up. Fair enough. You can't start a whole bunch of new habits at the same time, and for the first few weeks after quitting the drink, there is some serious sweet craving going on. But I'm past that part now. Dropping all my healthy habits can't be good either. If exercise and good eating sustains me, then avoiding it as a reward just isn't on.
In other news: I'm not too concerned about booze these days. I don't miss it often, and when I do, it's pretty easy to get around. Two days ago, I submitted the final draft of my thesis (hooray!!!) and when I hit "send" on my email, I yelled, "Someone please remind me why I don't drink any more, because this right now would be a good time to drink!" My partner was in the kitchen, and he poured us sparkling glasses of something (not booze!) so we could raise a toast. All in all, I wanted a drink for about ten seconds. Surely I can resist the occasional ten-second impulse!
At the dinner party I attended the other night, it wasn't awkward not drinking and, except for a moment when we arrived and I saw the pretty bottles and glasses lined up on the counter, I didn't want wine. Yes, those moments are work to get through. But my point (reminding myself here) is, they are only moments, and then there's the whole evening to enjoy, not staying stuck in those moments.
Three more days on deadlines and I have a little reprieve. Time to get back to work here. It's sunny and warm outdoors, so if I get a few pages done, I can go for a long walk in the afternoon, then come back and write a bit more. So enough lolly-gagging here.
Wishing you all peace and joy and sunny afternoons!
Wednesday, 7 August 2013
"This whole sober thing is starting to get boring."
It's sunny and hot here again, another beautiful summer day. I have a paper to finish and an exam to study for. But I'm off work for the next few days to finish all that. I have a fridge full of yummy food, sparkling water, and tasty homemade drink concoctions, including rhubarb-lemonade, raspberry cordial, and iced mint-lemongrass tea. My partner is away for a few days for a family celebration that I can't attend because of the above-mentioned paper and exam, but at least I have time to get things done, and he won't have to deal with deadline-cranky me. I'm pleased he could go to the family thing, as it's in a space steeped in history for him, and he needs the break. All good, right?
So how is it that, as I'm getting out of bed, I have a clear, resounding thought, "This whole sober thing is starting to get boring"? Wait. What? Says who? Yes, it will be a little lonely, but I like time alone. I have craploads to do, but it will be done, one way or another, in a few days. I have time later on to nip out to the farmer's market for fresh garlic (oh my god, so much better than the withered stuff you buy in the grocery!) and go for a run (my second run!), so I won't be staring at a screen all day. It's a lot to do, but it sounds like a pretty good plan for a day.
I'm studying psychology, and one of the things that especially interests me is the link between language and the self. The things we say to ourselves come from the world around us, and we become who we are, in part, by the voices that get incorporated into the inner dialogue. And holy, it's noisy in there! I once did a 5-day silent meditation retreat: five days just sitting, paying attention to where the mind goes when it's let off-leash. I hated it. By the end, I was mentally replaying TV ads from the 70's ("you'll wonder where the yellow went, when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent..."). I had hoped for something more sublime, world peace and shining-light-of-truth-visions maybe, but I am a creature of my times. We all are.
I used to try and just shout down the voices I didn't like, but that doesn't seem to work for me. They just come back loud and strong when I'm tired. Instead, maybe I need to try to hear what the "I'm bored, let's drink" voice is saying. Yes, it's saying drink, and no, I won't do that. I get that much. But what else is going on there? Maybe the answer is just, yes, parts of today will be tough, and a bit dull. Just accept that, and get back to work. Life is not some bright and shining every-moment-is-a-party gig. No? Dang.
OK, back to editing that paper. Then garlic, then a run, then more writing. Later, I can lie around and read a mystery. A bit boring, a bit all right. That's my day.
So how is it that, as I'm getting out of bed, I have a clear, resounding thought, "This whole sober thing is starting to get boring"? Wait. What? Says who? Yes, it will be a little lonely, but I like time alone. I have craploads to do, but it will be done, one way or another, in a few days. I have time later on to nip out to the farmer's market for fresh garlic (oh my god, so much better than the withered stuff you buy in the grocery!) and go for a run (my second run!), so I won't be staring at a screen all day. It's a lot to do, but it sounds like a pretty good plan for a day.
I'm studying psychology, and one of the things that especially interests me is the link between language and the self. The things we say to ourselves come from the world around us, and we become who we are, in part, by the voices that get incorporated into the inner dialogue. And holy, it's noisy in there! I once did a 5-day silent meditation retreat: five days just sitting, paying attention to where the mind goes when it's let off-leash. I hated it. By the end, I was mentally replaying TV ads from the 70's ("you'll wonder where the yellow went, when you brush your teeth with Pepsodent..."). I had hoped for something more sublime, world peace and shining-light-of-truth-visions maybe, but I am a creature of my times. We all are.
I used to try and just shout down the voices I didn't like, but that doesn't seem to work for me. They just come back loud and strong when I'm tired. Instead, maybe I need to try to hear what the "I'm bored, let's drink" voice is saying. Yes, it's saying drink, and no, I won't do that. I get that much. But what else is going on there? Maybe the answer is just, yes, parts of today will be tough, and a bit dull. Just accept that, and get back to work. Life is not some bright and shining every-moment-is-a-party gig. No? Dang.
OK, back to editing that paper. Then garlic, then a run, then more writing. Later, I can lie around and read a mystery. A bit boring, a bit all right. That's my day.
Monday, 5 August 2013
Running! Sunshine! Exclamation points!
This afternoon, instead of coffee and chocolate (which actually gave me a headache and kept me up too late yesterday, grr), I gave myself a run as a reward. That's correct! Me, who used to say, "OK, if you write a few pages and start reading that article, you can have a glass of your favourite rose with lunch." Which would, of course, lead to much more wine and not much productive work. I've decided that those days are over for me. But I am still trying to write the paper I mentioned yesterday, and it's harder work than usual. (I think, honestly, I'm somehow using most of my energy taking care of myself, paying attention to not drinking, remembering why I'm not drinking, reading about other people who are not drinking or are trying to stop, and on and on. It's taking a lot, and I don't have as much leftover for the academic heavy lifting I need to do this week. That's OK, I guess. I can admit that and get something handed in anyway. I'm trying to, anyway.)
Yesterday I was thinking I needed a new system to reward myself when I'm hard at the schoolwork. And I have committed to taking up running again, thanks to Lilly at http://onetoomany1.wordpress.com/ who is organizing a virtual run training group for the 100 Day Challenge folk. (Look at me! Not a joiner, never been a joiner, joining 2 groups in one month! Hooray!) I had planned to start today, but wanted to get some schoolwork done before I left the house. So I made a deal with myself: write 5 pages, then go for a run as a treat. And I did! (Well, I wrote 4 but it was close enough for me.)
And the run was glorious. Now I haven't run in a while, so no real runner would call what I did running. A walk to warm up. Few minutes trotting slowly, a little walk, repeat a few times, then walk home and stretch. It added up to 20 minutes running, another 20 or so walking. And I felt fantastic. I was smiling at babies. Smiling at toddlers. Smiling at other runners. Smiling at tomato plants. At bamboo plants. OK, you get it. A big smiley face on sweaty old me, out running! It's way too early in my little running attempt to have had a hit of those infamous workout endorphins. It was just so bloody good to be outdoors, in the sunshine, with the kids and plants and cats on doorsteps and the whole of summer, not one of them caring a jot if I wrote a good paper or a crappy one, or anything else about me for that matter.
I know it's important to be able to get outside of your own mind, and it's something I find hard to do. Especially when I'm cooped up indoors on a school project. But this was simple. Free. Healthy. And a possible start to a new way of rewarding myself, which I was in dire need of finding.
I'm 31 days sober today and it's feeling pretty good. Happy trails!
Yesterday I was thinking I needed a new system to reward myself when I'm hard at the schoolwork. And I have committed to taking up running again, thanks to Lilly at http://onetoomany1.wordpress.com/ who is organizing a virtual run training group for the 100 Day Challenge folk. (Look at me! Not a joiner, never been a joiner, joining 2 groups in one month! Hooray!) I had planned to start today, but wanted to get some schoolwork done before I left the house. So I made a deal with myself: write 5 pages, then go for a run as a treat. And I did! (Well, I wrote 4 but it was close enough for me.)
And the run was glorious. Now I haven't run in a while, so no real runner would call what I did running. A walk to warm up. Few minutes trotting slowly, a little walk, repeat a few times, then walk home and stretch. It added up to 20 minutes running, another 20 or so walking. And I felt fantastic. I was smiling at babies. Smiling at toddlers. Smiling at other runners. Smiling at tomato plants. At bamboo plants. OK, you get it. A big smiley face on sweaty old me, out running! It's way too early in my little running attempt to have had a hit of those infamous workout endorphins. It was just so bloody good to be outdoors, in the sunshine, with the kids and plants and cats on doorsteps and the whole of summer, not one of them caring a jot if I wrote a good paper or a crappy one, or anything else about me for that matter.
I know it's important to be able to get outside of your own mind, and it's something I find hard to do. Especially when I'm cooped up indoors on a school project. But this was simple. Free. Healthy. And a possible start to a new way of rewarding myself, which I was in dire need of finding.
I'm 31 days sober today and it's feeling pretty good. Happy trails!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)