Why Do Doritos Locos Tacos Make Me Weak in the Knees?

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I started a 5-week temp job in March, with just 6 weeks remaining in my semester at school. Today starts my 13th week, which is surprising (though entirely welcome).

During this busy stint, I have neglected a lot in my life: this blog, for one. Nutrition. Sleep. Exercise. I still took care of my family (and my family took care of me), but the self-care was lacking in a bad way.

With this lack of self-care came an excess of eating out, eating candy, and eating junk like nobody’s business (not to mention a whole lot of grumpiness). I wonder if I even ate a vegetable in April or May that wasn’t in the form of a french fry?

What I didn’t forego during this time period is my emotional work. I have a history of binge eating, and I’ve been trying to get to the root of it. Because I know better. I know what makes my body feel good–Paleo + 8-9 hours of sleep + sunshine + a little movement. When knowledge is power, why isn’t my knowledge enough? Why does knowledge skip power and turn into a cycle of guilt and shame and remorse and binge?

As I was going through the drive-thru of my Taco Bell, it hit me. Knowledge is not enough (for me, at least). If it were, I wouldn’t want to eat one of these:

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Yes, you are looking at that picture properly. It is a Doritos Locos Tacos. And if it wasn’t laden in dairy, soy, and gluten (all things my nursing daughter reacts poorly to), I would have eaten my body weight in them.

Why? Why?! WHY?!?!

Logically, I know there is nothing nutritionally redeeming about this food-like substance. But that is not enough to stop me. The thought of my baby writhing in pain for a couple of days stopped me…barely.

I’m certain this isn’t simply an error in my personal make-up. I suspect there are many other people who struggle with this. You know better, but the body is weak (or mind or something else or both). Once I accepted this as my reality–that knowing better isn’t enough to make me choose properly every moment of the day–I felt surprisingly relieved. I still want a Doritos Locos Tacos, but I’m not feeling quite so guilty about it.

Do you “know better” but still find it difficult to make good choices?

7 MovNat Lessons from an Uncoordinated Stay-at-Home Mom

All gorgeous photos courtesy of the incredible Omar Foster. If you are in the Las Vegas area, check him out at Camp Fit Force. All photos of my gorgeous children courtesy of my phone.

How did this happen?

On a windy January day in Las Vegas, I found myself asking, “How did I get in this tree?”

It was one of those refocusing, defining moments. Me–the quintessential non-athlete–trying to activate muscles I never even knew existed and swing my leg onto an uneven tree branch. With total clarity and flow a la Csikzentmihalyi, I felt powerful. Nay, I was powerful. I’d transcended the limiting beliefs about my capabilities and was acting on my true nature. This was MovNat.

My love affair with MovNat began on Halloween day, 2010. I was at Robb Wolf’s Paleolithic Solution Seminar in Houston and Erwan Le Corre (MovNat founder) was visiting. His quiet and humble presence drew me in. I could feel his energy and I observed him the entire day. Simply striking.

We hardly spoke–an unfortunate mistake on my end since he was entirely approachable. He smiled for, cooed at, and doted on my 4-month-old baby who came in twice to nurse and make googly eyes at all the Fitness Hounds in the room. But since I’d never heard of him or MovNat, I didn’t recognize my opportunity. I could feel that he was doing something special, but didn’t know how to say: “Hey Mr. Erwan, I can read your energy and my intuition is telling me you are going to change the world and my life.” The more I learn about him and his mission though, the less embarrassed I would be to make that statement.

From that point forward, I pined for a MovNat seminar. I wanted it badly despite my vehement dislike for physical activity and conventional exercise. I have absolutely no confidence in my athletic capabilities and believed MovNat could be the key to helping me become more physically adept. I almost registered for the session right after the Ancestral Health Symposium, but working out with a bunch of Paleo fitness fanatics was too terrifying of a prospect. Fourteen months later, my intuition finally won me over and I registered for the Las Vegas workshop.

I almost didn’t go. Two days prior, my baby got sick. And goodness knows I was looking for an out. But she healed miraculously and I found myself working out at Legacy Park with seven men.

7 Lessons

1. My body is strong and beautiful. Brian Tabor (MovNat instructor) moves like a cat-gazelle crossbreed. It’s glorious to watch and I found myself in awe when he would jump onto a trash can or leap through the air, landing in a diving roll. As we moved throughout the day, the bodies of the participants (including my own) transformed into something similar. Strong and beautiful, even if they were untrained or still building their physical fitness. Because they are human, they have the capacity to move naturally. There is an underlying strength that may have been forgotten, but it is present nonetheless. And that is beautiful.

MovNat Las Vegas. The strong and beautiful bodies.

2. It’s all in my head. The first person I saw was Paul. He is an enormous mass of muscle and was wearing a shirt that looked like something from the periodic table (It read “Ow: The Element for Pain“). I looked over at my husband and shook my head saying I couldn’t do this. I wouldn’t fit in here. I don’t like exercise, I am not strong, and I really really really hate pain. He let me blabber until I could pull myself out of the car. But there was nothing intimidating about these guys. There was an atmosphere of camaraderie (of which I attribute to Brian’s ability to build a safe culture in such a short amount of time) and my fears dissipated by the end of the breathing exercises. Any ability I thought I couldn’t develop was all in my head. I could do this. I was made to move.

Our true nature is to move

3. I am afraid of my body. I was born massively pigeon-toed and required special shoes to shape my hips. The shoes were removed early and my hips/coordination are still paying for it. Even more, I got glasses in second grade (bifocals in fourth) and my optometrist said my poor depth perception would prevent me from ever being able to play sports that involved hand-eye coordination (i.e. anything with a ball). These early experiences shaped the last 20+ years of body image and I never got to know my capabilities very well. The unknown is frightening, so my body was frightening. Even at the end of the workshop, I was still timid about catching a ball (thankfully Robert went easy on me).

My special shoes

4. My children are inheriting my fear. The biggest motivator to finally get to a workshop was watching my children. Because I parrot the safety mantra “Be careful. Don’t break that. That’s dangerous” all day long, my kids started to exhibit more fear and timidity. I was creating a very pseudo-dangerous world for them. At the park, I would have minor panic attacks when my son climbed the big rocks because I was afraid he would fall and crack his head open. I always envied my husband’s ability to just let our kids be kids. But because I didn’t know what my body could do, I didn’t know what my children were perfectly capable of either. Luckily, that’s starting to fade.

My 3yo son climbing those big scary rocks.

5. MovNat is for moms. And everyone else, yes, but I’m particularly interested in moms. I don’t know how to play with my children very well. I’m great on academics and great at loving them, but having pure, unadulterated fun is hard for me. MovNat showed me how to awaken my body, play with my kids, and create stronger bonds with my Littles. Eight hours well-spent. More on this next Tuesday.

Hiking Zion barefoot with the baby wrapped in a sling on my chest

6. I could stand to do a few more squats, lunges, and push-ups. Sigh. No surprise there. From a purely functional standpoint, it would be in my best interest if I gained a bit more strength. I was able to hold myself on the pole, but couldn’t shimmy my way up at all.

Paul on a pole in a totally non-Las Vegas kind of way

7. Exercise ain’t so bad. Please don’t tell. I have spent so long hating it, I am almost having an identity crisis.

The Best Part of MovNat

…was walking away a new woman. I found someone who was hiding deep inside of me, and I really like her. More confidence, more joy, more love.

And in case you’re wondering…When I finally managed to pull myself up onto that tree branch with the help of the mighty Brian Tabor, everyone cheered enthusiastically. I am so proud.

Big thanks to Brian, Robert, Tim, Phil, Phil, Omar, and Paul who all helped me find myself that day. And to think I almost didn’t get out of the car.

Insights Into The Whole30 Gone Bad

How many blocks are in this stalk of celery?

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Before finding Paleo, I tried to Zone. I read Barry Sears’ book and responded to the information on insulin resistance. My husband printed out the Meal Plans Blocks Chart from the CrossFit Journal and we were all in.

After exactly three days, I quit.

Physically, I had the shakes, I was hungry, and I was exhausted.

Mentally, my head was spinning because this constant focus on macronutrients was new and a little annoying. I couldn’t figure out the exact right amount of blocks to eat and I didn’t know how to accurately assess my physical activity.

Emotionally, I was a mess. I was yelling at my son for messing up my blocks when he tried to grab a carrot off my plate. I weighed and measured everything precisely; he wasn’t going to screw it up. I was totally consumed by my perverted view of the Zone’s proper implementation. I had “complete control” over my food and I was determined to do it “right.” After 72 short hours, I dangerously close to reverting back to my eating disorder days.

I told my husband I was quitting immediately. I already felt myself going back to the old me, the one that would hide in the closet with a celery stalk, the one who felt guilty for eating so much, the one I hated so much.

I sort of felt like a loser. Lots of people could Zone, why not me? But I was also relieved. Given my history and obsession with “dieting perfectly,” the Zone was all wrong for me. For once in my life, I listened to my body.

Should I Quit Paleo?

Whole9's Insight into The Whole30 Gone Bad

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I wrote recently about Paleo being my version of a nutrient-dense eating disorder. These are murky waters that I’ve been navigating solo, feeling like there is limited support in a community of perfect eaters. Today, Whole9 brilliantly posted about what to do when healthy eating becomes unhealthy in The Whole30 Gone Bad.

I loved every piece of that article. For some time now, it’s been difficult for me to read anyone but Mark Sisson (who is a huge proponent of the 80/20 rule). It seemed like every other Paleo blogger (myself included) was touting Paleo as the only healthy way to eat. All ailments could be attributed to poor nutrition, so if my nutrition wasn’t spot on, it was all my fault. I’d received my just desserts. I don’t feel this way anymore (and consequently, I’m a lot more open to other nutrition plans), but it’s taken a lot of conscious effort to subdue that part of my personality and embark on a healing process.

This article is part of that healing process. After supplying a quiz to see if an eating intervention is necessary and providing a 5-step plan, Whole9 encourages each person to do what’s right for them: “The Whole30 program can be a valuable tool in your health and fitness arsenal, but it’s not for everyone.”

That simple statement makes me feel human and reminds me that they are human too. My experience has been normalized and it turns out that, perhaps, not all Paleo Rock Stars are robots.

So if your Paleo lifestyle has become a hot mess, I’d encourage you to check out the article and comments; you won’t find any PaleoBots there. We’re all human, and as it turns out, that’s okay.

Forget a Whole30, I’d settle for a Whole1

(I am shelving the binge eating series for a while. I’ve written and re-written the next post 8 times, but it’s still not feeling right. Perhaps I’m not quite ready to continue the public address. Emotional problems are a bummer sometimes. Sigh.)

I write a short letter to my children nearly every day. For a few months, I didn’t miss a single day. I had no goal, just a simple commitment that “Today I will write in my kids’ journals.”

When I finally missed a day, I convinced myself I could make it up. I never did, and I stopped journaling for two months because I was overwhelmed by how much self-imposed work I had to do.

This all-or-nothing scenario plays out a lot in my life, and eating (clean) is no exception.

My WholeNothings

Whole9 Foundations Workshop January 2011 with Dallas and Melissa (then-Urban) Hartwig (I have a history of awkwardness with blogebrities, which explains the arm placement.)

About a year ago, I was honored to be a featured Whole30 success story. I completed the Whole30 twice with excellent results and did a third one in March.

Since then, I’ve taken a page out of Walter Mondale’s book and lost the fire in my belly, replacing it with grains, sugar, and all manner of poisons. The program hasn’t changed its awesomeness and I’m still Paleo, but the 30-days-in-a-row-no-exceptions eludes me. I’ve started a new Whole30 at least 30 times, most lasting 1 day. January’s attempt made it to the 19th before my anxiety convinced me chips and salsa would fix my problems (spoiler: it didn’t).

My WholeFourMonths

Now I have a WholeFourMonthsPossiblyLonger staring me in the face. My baby is sick and her treatment would be optimal (but not necessary) with pure breast milk.

I’m told eating clean for 30 days isn’t as hard as quitting heroin or beating cancer, and I believe that. When I had the Big Bad PCOS Enemy to beat, the Whole30 was easy-peasy-puddin’-pie. Now that I’m out of survival mode and have a debilitating disease behind me, the motivation simply isn’t there. Perhaps there’s something to this stress junkie business.

Living in the Present

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I’ve come to the recent realization that there is a very fine line between planning things to better live your life and living your life to better plan. I cross that line often, and forget to live in the present.

So when I make a commitment to a Whole30, I forget that yes, I have a 30-day goal, but it’s not Day 30 that matters. It’s Day Today.

If I think about how I should eat Whole30-clean for four months until I get test results back for my babe, I am overwhelmed and run straight for the coconut milk ice-cream, Junior Mints, and lotus rice. If I remind myself, “Today I am going to eat clean,” the challenge isn’t so formidable.

I’m on my fourth Whole1 today. No guilt, no shame, no remorse, and no expectations of perfection. It feels good.

Meet the Cast: Food Personalities

In the last post, I explained how Paleo turned into my most nutrient-dense eating disorder to date. Because of emotional issues that I haven’t wanted to explore (or don’t know how to), I bury myself in food when the going gets tough. Food (whether eating it or not eating it) becomes my constant companion. Paleo in particular has been especially challenging and I’ve personified it in countless dysfunctional ways.

Meet the Cast

These are my leading actors and actresses. There are others that make an appearance, but they all stem from The Big Six.

1. The Self-Worth Measure. In my darker moments, my self-worth was measured by how strict my adherence to Paleo was. These are the times I would binge heavily. And then continue to binge, beating myself up about what a total loser I was since I knew what to eat and still wouldn’t do it.

2. The Vindicator. My way of showing the world that I wasn’t crazy. I was listening to my intuition the whole time, despite the constant criticism and doubt. Calories in/calories out didn’t work for me the way they did for others. I wasn’t exercising less than I said, and I wasn’t lying about my calorie or sugar intake. I wasn’t doing it wrong. See, I told you so.

3. The Healthy Lifestyle. This is my favorite one–the reason I wish was always at the forefront. The true reasons I love Paleo–because it makes me feel good and allows me to live a more fulfilling life with fewer doctors’ appointments.

4. The Distraction. A perfect reason to not face any other issues in my life because I was spending way too much time meal planning and grocery shopping and cooking. And because Paleo is sooooooo haaaaaaaard, I can’t possibly focus on anything else.

5. The Marker of Self-Righteousness. It’s taken me a very long time to realize that while I believe Paleo is a great starting point for almost everyone, it’s not the right diet if someone won’t do it. Not everyone starts in the same place, and goodness knows I started somewhere way below Paleo. It seems that once I found what worked, I forgot that I spent 4 years trying a million diets before finding Paleo. If I would have found Paleo at the beginning of my journey, there’s no way I would have chosen it (because I don’t like eating meat). Why I can’t remember that for everyone else is more than unfortunate. I’m sorry for being a zealot.

6. The Proof that I am a Good Mother. Accepting my children as they are is a struggle. I want the best for them, whatever that means, and I have some undefined expectation of what that looks like. When my son would do something quirky, I might respond with, “Well you should see how he used to be when he wasn’t Paleo. We’ve made significant improvements.” I couldn’t handle the way I perceived people were judging my child (and by default, my mothering), so I let Paleo be my out.

I can’t be the only one who does this, right? With the exception of number 3, none of these personalities have anything to do with food or will-power. They are feelings of inadequacy, fear, anger, embarrassment, and disappointment masked by an unhealthy relationship with a simple caveman diet.

A couple months ago I hit my binge-eating rock bottom. Completely out of alignment with my spirit and eating so much crap I thought my PCOS was coming back, I finally started to explore these emotional issues. I didn’t know what they were at first, but I’m discovering them one-by-one. The healing isn’t complete–29 years of food confusion doesn’t dissipate overnight–but peace is finding me.

In the next few posts, I’ll share with you my journey of how I discovered my binge eating has absolutely nothing to do with food or self-discipline. Even better, upon examining my reasons for bingeing, I realized the emotional issues I fought so hard to avoid weren’t nearly as frightening as I’d made them out to be.