Capable (Blog #934)

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Five weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating between noon and 8 PM) and eating healthier (mostly paleo). When I weighed in a week ago, I’d lost 9.8 pounds (woowho). When I weighed today I was up a pound (boo). Still, this is a total loss of 8.8 pounds, and that’s not too shabby, especially considering I’ve been fighting some sinus junk for the last three weeks and haven’t done much exercising. Thankfully, the junk seems to be (finally) clearing out, so forgetting that which is behind, I press forward toward the mark of getting into my own pants (since I can’t get into anyone else’s).

That’s a sex joke, Mom.

Since I began intermittent fasting, a number of people including my therapist have suggested I try fasting for at least a day because fasting for longer periods of time gives your body a break (from digesting) and allows it to focus on healing. So in the spirit of trying new things for the sake of my health (and waistline), starting last night at 9:30 (after I ate a piece of pumpkin pie), I fasted for 23 hours. And whereas I was definitely hungry, it wasn’t terrible. In fact, today was kind of the perfect day. I slept in, spent six hours watching Season 3 of The Deuce, and went for a hourlong walk. Then at 8:30 I had dinner (thanks, Mom). And whereas I ate two helpings, I didn’t go crazy. Now it’s 9:55 and I feel fine–not hungry, not full.

For me the hardest part about not eating for almost 24 hours was deciding I could do it. It’s weird how attached you can get to the idea of food. You think, I’ve got to have it. Last night and this morning (before I’d fully committed to doing this thing) I thought, I’m not sure if I can skip two meals. What if I die? Of course, I didn’t really think of fasting as a matter of life and death, but I did wonder the same thing I’ve always wondered when I’ve quit cigarettes–What if I’m not strong enough? But having quit cigarettes and now having fasted for just under a day, I know I am strong enough. In both cases, it was just a matter of deciding I was going to do it.

And then doing it.

Something else I’ve recently decided to do is take cold showers. This last February I listened to a podcast about the benefits of cold exposure, and although the idea of exercising your cardiovascular system by subjecting it to varied (cold) temperatures made sense to me, I didn’t do much with it. However, last week I signed up for a free 10-day online class with The Iceman, Wim Hof, who’s a huge proponent of cold therapy and deep breathing. Wim has been awarded 26 world records, including one for climbing Mt. Everest in a pair of shorts. Anyway, I figured if he could do that, I could take a two-minute cold shower, which I did today. And whereas it was shocking at first, like the fasting it wasn’t terrible. Once I started breathing deeply (which your body does instinctively if you don’t hold your breath), it was fine. Not pleasant, not cozy, but fine.

As a self-professed cold hater, I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but taking a cold shower was actually fun. At least it was fun when it was over. Wim says your body releases cannabinoids and opioids when exposed to cold temperatures, so maybe that was it. Regardless, I did feel euphoric, more alive.

Having struggled with sinus issues most of my life, there’s a part of me that always feels weak. Like I could fall ill at any moment. Consequently, I often don’t trust my body. I get invited to do things, go on long trips, and I think, What if I can’t? What if I get sick? And whereas I don’t have all the health answers I’d like to have (who does?), one of the positive things that’s come out of my journey the last few years is that I’m beginning to trust my body more. Last year I went through a battery of tests that basically said I was healthy as a horse. My immune system is stellar. I don’t have allergies. Granted, I still get some crud now and then, but little by little, I’m coming around to the idea that my body isn’t broken. At the very least I’m learning that I’m stronger than I thought I was. I can fast. I can handle the cold. I can write every day for over two and a half years. Now this is what I’m convinced of–that we are all capable of more than we realize.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Healing is never a straight line.

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You Don’t Have to Be Perfect (Blog #927)

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Two weeks ago tomorrow I came down with a sinus infection. And whereas I’ve been trying all my tricks to get it to go away, it hasn’t. This morning the junk I coughed up was as colorful as ever, worse than the last few days. And whereas being sick is frustrating, I’ve realized the worst part about being sick is not the actual sickness, but rather my fear associated with it. For example, today I lay in bed and watched Season 2 of Pose, and this wasn’t difficult at all. What was difficult was imaging how awful the rest of the week will be if I don’t get better. I kept thinking, On Wednesday I have to work from sunrise until (probably) after midnight, and it’s just going to be hell. Never mind the fact that I COULD get better before then.

It’s funny how we sell ourselves on the worst possible scenario. As I’ve been struggling with this sinus infection for the last two weeks, I’ve all but convinced myself it’s going to turn into another three-month-long deal like the one I had almost two years ago. Thus all my horrible what-if scenarios. But hell, what if I am sick on Wednesday? I’ve worked all day with a sinus infection–and a fever!–before. It’s not something I want to repeat, of course, but it is something I know I can survive (because I have). The truth is we can survive almost anything if we simply take it one moment at a time.

I’ve realized lately just how much I tell myself I’m special–but not in a good way. What I mean is that whenever I get ANOTHER sinus infection–or chronic body oder or upset stomach–I tell myself that I’m the exception to the rule, that everyone else can heal but I can’t, that my body is an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is this thinking is a bunch of bullshit. I’m not THAT special. As Caroline Myss says, “Healing isn’t personal.” It’s something that’s available–at least possible–for everyone. If other people can find answers, I can find answers. You can find answers.

Forcing myself to hope rather than despair, this morning I went back to the website where I originally learned about the probiotic that has–up until this point–been so helpful for my sinuses. For over an hour I read about the author’s experience overcoming chronic sinusitis, as well as the questions asked and comments made by people just like me. First of all, I was reminded that I’m not alone; a lot of people struggle with their sinuses (or SOMETHING). No one gets through life without challenges. Second of all, I was reminded that “less is more.”

When trying to treat my sinus infection, my approach, however, has been “more is better.” That is, two or three times a day I’ve tried two or three different probiotics. But the website said this may be overkill. “Try one thing once or twice a day and see what happens,” it said. “It’s all self-experimentation.” So that’s what I did this morning–I tried one thing, one time. And whereas I can’t say for sure, I do think I’ve felt better as the day has gone on. I have more energy. I’m less overwhelmed. I’m not coughing as much.

Naturally, I hope things are on the mend. I’ll know more tomorrow. But even if I wake up hacking and coughing again, I’m convinced you don’t have to use a sledgehammer where a regular hammer will do. Four weeks ago I started intermittent fasting (eating only between noon and 8 PM) and eating mostly paleo, and although I’ve been a hard ass about it, I haven’t been a complete hard ass about it; I haven’t been a perfectionist. Yesterday I ate a full breakfast at 9 AM and didn’t stop eating until 9 PM. For the last three weeks I’ve eaten a fair amount of cheddar cheese (which isn’t paleo at all). But get this shit–this morning I weighed in and found out I’ve lost 9.8 pounds in the last 27 days. I can’t tell you how thrilled I am. (I can’t tell you how thrilled the elastic in my underwear is.) But my point is that it’s possible to see results with smaller, consistently taken actions. You don’t have to go all-or-nothing. You don’t have to be perfect to heal.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Things are only important because we think they are.

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Don’t Get Cocky (Blog #914)

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Two weeks ago I started an intermittent fasting/mostly paleo diet because–it was time. And whereas I’ve been hungry a lot (for cake and cookies), my first week I lost 2.6 pounds. As of this morning I’ve lost another 2.8 pounds, bringing my total loss to 5.4 pounds. I can’t tell you how tickled I am. My metabolism works. Five pounds–that’s half a bowling ball. Another five pounds and I just might be able to fit into my non-stretchy jeans without having to spray my legs with WD-40 first. I’m so excited I could eat cheese.

Today itself has been pretty laid back. This morning I finished reading the book I started yesterday, Will the Real Me Please Stand Up? Then I started another (short) book about the psychology of numbers and colors, then another about social media marketing. Then my dad, my aunt, and I went to the gym, where I took today’s selfies. Just look at those legs. Grrrr.

My mantra today has been–don’t get cocky. What I mean is that, hey, I’ve lost five pounds–I’m the king of the world. But ultimately I’d like to lose between ten and fifteen pounds AND get my body back into the shape it was several years ago when I was featured in a “hottie” calendar. Or better shape. Really, the goal is simply to treat my body as good as possible and see what happens. I don’t have to have a six-pack. But I would like to be pain free, and I know enough to know that achieving this goal will require my bringing my body (and posture) back into balance. Which means getting my ass to the gym. Anyway, my point is that yes, I’ve had a good couple weeks. But now’s not the time to celebrate with cinnamon rolls. Now’s the time to stay focused and keep doing what I’m doing.

Because it’s working.

Last night I reviewed my goals for the previous week and made goals for this one. And whereas I’m checking off most of what I set out to do, there are a few things items I’m not checking off. This isn’t because the tasks are all that difficult, but rather because–I can see now–I was a bit too ambitious starting off. That is, it just doesn’t make sense to change one’s diet, gym routine, and every other routine in one week. Since this is a yearlong journey, it makes more sense to make little changes week by week or even month by month. Having seen through therapy and this blog that making little changes consistently over time works, I know this to be a solid strategy.

Even if part of me wants to fit into my tiny pants NOW.

There’s this weird thing that happens when you look at old pictures of yourself. Maybe you’re familiar with it. You think, Gosh, I’d give anything to look like that again, even if at the time you thought you looked fat and terrible. My point is that few of us are ever present with our bodies. We’re always chasing what used to be, what could be. Or worse, we’re comparing ourselves to others, to bodies that never will never be our own. So I’m doing my best to appreciate whatever my body looks and feels like right here, right now.

Speaking of how my body feels, this afternoon I came down with more sinus junk, just like I did last Monday when I lost a couple pounds. (Is this the thanks I get for eating asparagus?) My friend Sydnie says that whenever you fast, your body has an opportunity to clean stuff up and out (instead of digesting), so it’s not uncommon to produce more mucus and such. I hope this is it. Like, things get worse before they get better. Regardless, I’m doing what I know to do, hoping for the best, and leaving the rest to the gods. I used to flip shit and imagine the worst every time I started feeling bad, and I just can’t let myself do that anymore. It’s too tiring and never seems to help me heal any faster.

As always, I’ll let you know how it goes.

As for me, I’m going to bed.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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When you hide your hurt, you can’t help but pass it on. It ends up seeping, sometimes exploding out.

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You Have to Keep Going (Blog #907)

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After being on an intermittent fasting/mostly paleo diet for one full week and feeling pretty good about myself, this morning I woke up with sinus junk. Talk about a kick in the balls. My sinuses continue to challenge me. That being said, don’t cry for me Argentina. We all need our challenges, those things that keep us humble and give us compassion for ourselves and others. My sinuses are mine. Plus, they’re A LOT better than they used to be, and I’ve found something (a probiotic) that helps fight off infections. So I started playing around with that today. It’s not an exact science. Fingers crossed.

Now, back to my first full week of dieting. I lost 2.6 pounds.

Insert the “Hallelujah” chorus here.

Y’all, losing weight, or trying to lose weight, can really screw with your mind. Like, when I’m not trying to lose weight, I just eat whatever I want and think, Oh, I’ll get rid of this fat later. (You know, on some Tuesday I have free.) But as soon as I start losing weight, I’m either immediately frustrated (Why isn’t this working?!) or, if it is working, terrified that it won’t keep working (What if I gain it back?!). This means that I’ve spent today basically being neurotic. On the one hand I’ve been elated. I’m FINALLY using all those tortilla chips I ate this summer. On the other hand I’ve been worried I don’t have whatever it takes (the discipline, the knowledge, the money) to get well and stay well.

Along these lines, the part of me that loves chocolate-filled donuts wants to go ahead and quit right now. Like, 2.6 pounds–that’s enough.

All this being said, I’m going to stick with everything. This evening I went to the grocery store to buy more food and spilled an entire carton of blueberries all over checkout aisle two. I guess this situation has happened before, since the cashier had a broom on standby and said the blueberry cartons were poorly made. My point is that just because you wake up sick one day or spill some blueberries doesn’t mean you give up on being healthy, give up on buying groceries. Life is full of setbacks. Absolutely full of them. What do you do?

You clean up the blueberries and move on.

I’ve noticed my body kicks up a fuss whenever I dramatically change something in my life like my diet. Mostly, I get cranky. Someone says my name, and I want to chop their head off. I haven’t eaten a biscuit in over a week! is what I’m screaming on the inside. On the outside however, I’ve learned to remain (mostly) calm. That is, I’ve learned how to control myself, how to act socially appropriate even if I don’t feel like it. Recently I heard that these feelings of frustration and upset are simply part of the price we pay for our previous (poor) choices (to, you know, eat biscuits). Like, whenever I’ve quit cigarettes, I’ve gone into nicotine withdrawals, which are hell–and simply the cost for having smoked.

Make good choices even if you don’t feel like it.

Having quit bad habits and changed my diet (and even having gone through a sinus infection) before, I know that no feeling is final. That is, if you’re willing to let your body put up a fuss, if you’re willing to go through biscuit or nicotine withdrawals, things will eventually balance out. Give it a week or two. Make good choices even if you don’t feel like it. You’ll be glad you did. In the meantime, you just have to remind yourself to hang in there, to not give up simply because you’re not experiencing immediate gratification. You have to keep going and not overanalyze everything. This afternoon I taught a dance lesson to a former student, who, despite their thinking they’d forgotten everything, did just fine. “Just keep your feet moving and try not to think,” I said. “Thinking gets you into trouble.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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In other words, there's always SOMETHING else to improve or work on. Therefore, striving for perfection is not only frustrating, it's also technically impossible.

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Don’t Look at the Elephant (Blog #906)

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It’s been one full week since I started intermittent fasting (fasting between 8 PM and noon) and eating mostly paleo. This means I haven’t had bread in seven days. This means I’m constantly hungry. This means I’m about to go crazy. All day I’ve been in a fog. Carb flu, some people call it. It’s what happens when your body is used to burning carbs for energy instead of fat for energy, even if you have a lot of fat to burn. (What?! We can use this stuff?) Fortunately, the switchover usually happens sometime between week one and week two. This means I should only have a few more days of constantly thinking about cinnamon rolls.

The good news about dramatically changing my eating habits (and getting back to the gym) this week is that I can already tell a difference. My clothes feel looser. My stomach looks flatter. I feel smaller. Now, does this mean I’ve actually lost weight? Hell if I know. Tomorrow morning I’ll step on the scales for the first time since last Monday and find out.

I’m prepared to be either elated or devastated.

If it’s the latter, I have cinnamon rolls on standby.

This afternoon I painted at a friend’s house. Currently I’m working on the kitchen. It’s room seven of seven. That is, it’s the last room in the main section of the house (there’s also a garage/laundry room area to tackle) that I’m transforming from all brown to all white (well, except some of the cabinets are going to be blue). Anyway, it’s taken longer than expected, but every time I’m there I walk around the entire house to remind myself just how much has been accomplished in the last seven weeks since I began. So often when starting a new room or new diet I get overwhelmed–like, There’s so much to do!–but looking at the progress I’ve already made reminds me it’s just a matter of continuing to show up and work on what’s in front of you (this wall, this meal).

As my friend Kim says, “What’s the secret to eating an elephant? Eat one bite at a time–and–don’t look at the elephant!”

Don’t look at the elephant. Amen.

Last Sunday night when I launched this whole program (I’m calling it the no-fun, lose-your-love-handles, beach-body-2020 diet), I made a list on my computer of health-related things I wanted to do this week–eat mostly paleo, drink half my body weight in ounces of water each day, bleach my teeth, get back to the gym, go for a walk. Just before starting tonight’s blog, I reviewed my list and–thankfully–I pretty much met my goals. Which feels good. The other thing I just did was to make a set of goals for this week, which, honestly, is a lot like last week’s list. Granted, my inner perfectionist wanted to add half a dozen new things including, Start a new workout routine!, but I forced myself to keep it simple. This is because I’d like to succeed at a reasonable program (and feel good) rather than fail at an unreasonable program (and feel like shit).

Something’s gotta give.

One thing I’ve noticed this week is that because I’ve been spending more time preparing meals and exercising I’ve had less time for things I normally enjoy like reading (and drinking beer). And whereas I wish I could squeeze it all in (and still squeeze into my pants), that’s simply not possible. There are only so many hours in the day, and as I said last week, sacrifice is required for anything you’d like to obtain or achieve. In other words, something’s gotta give. For me this means less reading, and–at least tonight because it’s almost eleven and I still need to exercise–less writing. It means being more intentional about how I use my time. It means setting priorities.

Ick.

Like an adult.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You’re exactly where you need to be.

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Things Can Turn on a Dime (Blog #901)

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Okay. I’ve been on a diet for twenty-four hours and my thighs still rub together when I walk. What the actual hell? If only deciding to take care of yourself produced immediate results. Alas, this is not the instant gratification station. This is the work hard, be consistent, make good choices station. This is the chocolate cake makes your ass bigger not smaller channel. This is planet earth.

I know. I hate it too.

I’m grousing, but the changes I’ve made in the last twenty-four hours truly haven’t sucked. Last night before blogging I went to the grocery store for snacks, fruits, vegetables, and protein, then went to the gym with my dad after. “Are we going to do this every night?” he said.

“What about every other night?” I replied.

Every other night seems like a reasonable goal, one I could achieve instead of overachieve. What’s the saying? Set yourself up for success.

Today I’ve eaten three reasonable meals–no bread, no refined sugar, no alcohol. After each meal I felt full but not stuffed. What’s this feeling of non-expansion? I thought. In terms of exercise, this morning I mowed a lawn. Tonight I went for a twenty-minute walk. And whereas I used to think a walk didn’t count unless it was at least an hour and uphill all the way, tonight I thought, Twenty minutes is twenty minutes. I mean, I broke a sweat.

What’s nice about all the changes I’m making this week–and I admit they’re a bit “all at once”–is that none of them are new. Like, I’ve eaten mostly paleo before, I’ve been a gym rat before, and I’ve gone on walks before. This means that with little resistance I can slip into these routines like an old shoe. The part of my mind that loves carbs kicks up a bit of a fuss, of course, but most of me is like, Oh yeah, we know how to do this.

All this being said, the one thing I’m doing that I haven’t done before is intermittent fasting, which basically amounts to not eating between 8 PM and noon the next day. Eat however many meals you want (within reason) between noon and eight, but then zip your lips for sixteen hours. The idea (behind any type of fast) is that it not only gives your body a break (because digestion takes a lot of work), but it also allows your body to burn fat for fuel instead of all that pizza and ice cream you’ve been chunking down your throat. (Or is that just me?) Anyway, a friend of mine has been raving about it–they’ve lost fifteen pounds in the last six to eight weeks–so I figured, What the hell? I’ll give it a shot.

Now, I realize I’ve only been at this one day, but so far I like it. Sure, last night was rough. Two hours after having a smoothie at 7:30, I was starving. I went to bed hungry. Boo-hoo. But I told myself, If I’m starving in the morning, I’ll eat. Surely a little fast is better than no fast at all. But get this shit. When I woke up at nine this morning, I was fine. Not really hungry at all. So I skipped breakfast and went to work. Well, I had a cup of hot tea (non-caloric beverages are allowed.) Y’all, I mowed and weedeated in the hot sun for two hours and was fine. What’s more, I actually had an excess of energy (an excess of fat, boo-hoo). Now, was I READY to eat when the clock struck twelve? You bet your sweet bippy. But in my head I’d made it out to be this awful thing–I can’t eat for 16 hours, somebody get me a cross to hang on!–and yet it wasn’t awful at all. It simply wasn’t.

When I got home from mowing today I took my shoes off and banged them together to shake off the grass and dirt. As I did, I noticed a small rock–a large pebble–dislodged itself from the grooves in one of my shoes and landed in my parents’ flowerbed. And maybe this is weird, but I thought about that rock as if it were a teeny-tiny person. Like, it’d probably been hanging out in Fort Smith in my client’s driveway for years, and then all of a sudden got swooped up and transported to Van Buren. Just like that.

Along the same lines, get this. This evening I taught a dance lesson to a couple about to be married. The guy was born in another country, came to the United States, bounced around a bit, and finally met his fiancee up north. Then he got a job down here, and kind of like my shoe picked up that rock and brought it across the Arkansas River, he picked up his fiancee and brought her here too. Through a strange series of events, they ended up on my dance floor. After all these years, we finally met.

I really am astounded by this. How a rock or a person can hang out in one mental, emotional, or physical place and then–bam, like that–be transported to another. Is there work involved? Of course. There’s always work involved. In terms of bodily transformations, you gotta do shit. God’s not gonna strike you skinny. (Although, I guess, you could get one of those awful stomach viruses). In terms of personal growth, you gotta do shit. (My suggestion: see a therapist.) But my point is that at some point there’s a tipping point. (That’s a lot of points, I know.) This is why people say things can turn on a dime. Sooner or later, your hard work, your patience, pays off. Sooner or later, you see results.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Things are only important because we think they are.

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Sign Me Up for the Advanced Course (Blog #900)

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After a birthday weekend (and adulthood) full of food indulgences, today I started a diet. Er, lifestyle change. Whatever. Anytime you cut out chocolate cake for breakfast and eating peanut butter out of the jar for dinner, it’s a diet.

Fight me.

No, seriously, fight me. Whenever I cut out carbs, all I want to do is slap people. Of course, I don’t. After a few days of–let’s face it–starving, my body adjusts and I calm down. But until then, look out.

I’m hungry right now.

Earlier my mom asked me what diet I’m following, and I said, “I don’t know. Mostly paleo.” Really, I’m just trying to cut down/cut out bread, alcohol, and refined sugars. Surely this will help my pants fit. This is my major motivation in doing this whole thing. Getting into my own pants–since I apparently can’t get into anyone else’s. (That’s a sex joke, Mom.) But seriously, I’m turning forty in a year (woowho), and I don’t plan on celebrating by going up a pant size. This morning I stepped on my parents’ digital scale and saw a number I’ve never seen before. Y’all, I nearly passed out.

Thankfully, when I tried again (and again), the number was lower, something I have seen before.

“That’s the number I’ll take,” I said.

Whenever I do something like this (a diet), my tendency is to be drastic, to go balls-to-the-wall and CHANGE EVERYTHING overnight. I understand this isn’t a sensible approach, but it’s my approach nonetheless. So far I already have plans to adjust my eating, up my water intake, get back to the gym, and “heal everything.” I tell myself, You’re being ridiculous, Marcus, but that doesn’t seem to stop me.

Since starting this blog I’ve hopped on the paleo bandwagon more than once, at times strictly for health, at times strictly for vanity. Ugh, even when it’s a short-term “cleanse,” it usually comes down to vanity. And whereas part of me is like, You know you’re going to peter out after six weeks, another part is like, We can do this. We can set and obtain reasonable goals. For example, losing ten pounds is a reasonable goal.

This means I want to lose fifteen. In a month.

As one of my friends says, “Sign me up for the advanced course.”

This is the story of me life. Let’s overachieve–well–everything. Let’s be the best dieter there ever was, the best comeback kid the gym ever saw. Please, somebody stop me from overachieving. It’s exhausting. Tonight’s blog is number 900 in a row, and I know as well as you do that in 900 blogs there have been some great posts and some not-so-great posts. What makes 900 posts a big deal is–largely–consistency. Showing up every day and doing one thing every day–writing. Before I had my estate sale, I downsized my possessions by throwing (or giving away) one thing every day–a pair of socks, a paperclip, a knickknack.

The point–little things add up.

This idea of doing one thing every day, I’m convinced, could be applied to one’s health, my health, as well. That is, I could make this process much simpler. Like, I could cut out bread–for breakfast. Instead of going for a beer, I could go for a walk. If I kept this up every day (or even most days) for a year, I’d see results. I wouldn’t have to change everything at once. My perfectionist doesn’t like this, but it’s true.

The intermediate course will do.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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More often than not, the truth is a monster. It gets in your face and makes you get honest. Sometimes the truth separates you from people you care about, if for no other reason than to bring you closer to yourself.

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On Seeing More Light (Blog #694)

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Today has been delightful. That’s two delightful days this week. Actually, come to think of it, I’m enjoying life more lately. For one thing, my leg’s been improving. I still have a lot of progress to make, but I can see the light at the end of the tunnel now. I can see more light, period, now. Spring is in four weeks, and before that, daylight savings. Plus, I feel better. After surgery I was definitely depressed, and I feel lighter now, more like myself. I have more energy. Plus, whether it’s my new diet (which my friend Bonnie recently referred to as Lazy Paleo because I make plenty of exceptions), some new supplements I started, or the fact that I’m exercising frequently, I have less gunk in my system. Normally I wake up with a snotty nose (just call me Marcus Mucus), but the last two days my sinuses have been clean as a whistle.

I’m glad we can talk about this.

This afternoon I had a lovely physical therapy appointment. It was lovely for two reasons. First, my therapist added new exercises, some balance things that really challenged me and caused me to break out in a sweat. This actually felt good, since I’ve been largely immobile for almost three months. Second, my therapist was kind and encouraging. “Good form. You’re really doing well, “he said. “Feel free to call me if you have any questions.” Ugh, it really does make the biggest difference when someone’s–I don’t know–friendly.

At therapy while my leg was being iced, I started a book Bonnie gave me called Drop Dead Healthy by AJ Jacobs, a nonfiction story about the author’s quest to be perfectly healthy in every way. Oh my gosh, y’all, I’m only a few chapters in (I kept reading after therapy when I went to lunch), but it’s hilarious. Not only is the author an entertaining writer, but I can see much of myself in his behaviors. As a self-diagnosed hypochondriac, I’ve tried so many diets, relaxation techniques, and exercises programs it’s not even funny. (Well, it’s a little bit funny.) And whereas I often approach lifestyle changes with an all-or-nothing attitude, I’m learning that moderation still provides results. For example, I’ve been doing Lazy Paleo for almost a month now and can already tell a difference. Not that I’ve lost a ton of weight (a few pounds on a good day), but my body feels better, more vibrant.

This is no small thing.

This evening I drove to Springfield, Missouri, where I am now. I came up for a dance tomorrow and am staying with my friends Anne and Andy. On the way here I listened to a podcast that talked about the benefits of cold exposure–keeping your thermostat set on 62 in the winter, going outside with fewer layers on, taking a cold shower (even for a few moments). This idea is that our bodies need to be challenged, and one way we can work out our cardiovascular systems is by exposing them to a wider range of temperatures. This actually makes sense to me, that we can exercise our blood vessels and capillaries like muscles. So although I still hate winter (I hate winter), I’m now considering hating it less, since the cold apparently has its benefits.

There I said it.

I’ve talked a lot recently about my skin allergies, about how I’ve had to buy special soaps and shampoos because my skin reacts to several common household ingredients. This all started when I had a huge flare-up last year when my parents changed their laundry soap. Anyway, when I got to Anne and Andy’s, Anne said, “I’m sorry, but we didn’t wash the sheets on your bed in cage-free, free-range detergent.” Oh my gosh, is that great or what? I couldn’t stop laughing, both at Anne’s cleverness and the fact that I’m now officially one of those people.

Also, I should say–thankfully–my skin’s not THAT picky.

Now it’s after midnight. Earlier Anne and Andy and I went out to eat, and I’ve been blogging and sipping hot tea since we got back. Well, cold tea because I apparently don’t sip fast enough. Anyway, I’m looking forward to this weekend. I won’t be able to dance much tomorrow night, but I’m excited about seeing my friends, hearing some good music, and simply being on a dance floor. My physical therapist said I’ll be cleared to do some light jogging at my next appointment (in two weeks), so the milestones (running, jumping, dancing) are in sight. Yes, I can see more light now.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There’s a lot of magic around you.

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When Your Body Asks for Help (Blog #667)

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Yesterday I blogged about my not feeling well and wanting to give up. This is my general inclination, to give up, whenever life becomes “too much.” Honestly, I was really hoping I’d get a good night’s rest and wake up fine today. I didn’t. I mean, I slept fine, but I woke up still sick. I really don’t know what’s going on. A sinus thing. It’s always a sinus thing. Whatever it is, I’m not amused. Hell, I’m rarely amused. It takes a lot to amuse me. I’m just–what’s the word?–unamuseable.

Well, now that’s not true, since I just amused myself.

As I said yesterday, my recent sinus junk mostly bothers me not only because my sinuses have been a huge historical problem for me, but also because I have a bunch of other stuff going on right now and am tired of shit going wrong. I’ve had headaches since I was a kid, my stomach’s been upset since last July, my elbow’s had psoriasis for months, another section of my skin’s had a fungal infection for weeks, and I just had knee surgery in December. My point being, even before this sinus crap showed up I was thinking, Enough already! I cry uncle.

Yesterday, the day I woke up congested, I noticed a red spot on my wrist. No itching, no scales, just a red spot. But still, as a self-professed hypochondriac, I freaked out. It’s the psoriasis, I thought. It’s spreading! So yesterday afternoon I upped my water intake and also bought a natural supplement (White Willow Bark) that’s supposed to be good not only for pain relief (from headaches), but also for skin disorders like psoriasis. Having been disappointed by supplements more times that I’ve been pleasantly surprised by them (and, to be clear, I’ve been pleasantly surprised by them a number of times), I started the supplement last night with cautious optimism.

My attitude: I’ll try almost anything once.

At the close of last night’s blog, I said it was time to start eating better. Recently I watched a video posted by a prominent figure in the alternative health and healing community, Charlie Goldsmith, about his father, who has Parkinson’s and showed significant improvement in his ability to sit down, stand up, and walk after just four days of changing his diet. And whereas I don’t know specifically what Charlie’s dad’s diet included or excluded, I’m assuming it included–um–vegetables and excluded the usual suspects–gluten, dairy, soy, sugar, and alcohol. Anyway, this video reminded me that diet is a huge contributing factor when it comes to one’s health, which is why I decided it was time to get serious about what I’m eating.

Therefore, before I went to bed last night, I ate a salad. Then today I had oats for breakfast. And whereas some elimination diets wouldn’t approve of oat-eating (because oats are a grain), I figured it was better than a piece of white bread slathered in peanut butter. (Progress, not perfection.) Then I pulled myself together and went to the grocery store and got everything I needed for at least a week’s worth of clean (mostly Paleo) meals. Y’all, I loaded my cart with fruits, nuts, and vegetables for eating, as well as Zicam, Airborne, and bone broth things for healing. I mean, it’s all for healing. Everything you put into your mouth has an effect.

I hate to admit that, but it’s true.

Granted, I don’t know what’s going to happen to my body. I could very well wake up tomorrow with even more sinus trouble or skin flare-ups. But even after half-ass starting this thing yesterday, that red spot on my wrist is almost completely gone, and–I swear–the psoriasis on my elbow looks better. And whether or not the water I drank yesterday, the salad I ate last night, or the supplement I started had anything to do with it, the improvement reminds me that my body is not only AWARE of what’s going on with it, but also willing to repair its problems when given the proper support. That’s my logic with all these issues that have cropped up lately, that my body is simply asking for help. And whereas I can’t promise that I’ll help it perfectly, I can promise that I’ll do better.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Go easier on yourself.

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Surely This Too Shall Pass (Blog #356)

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What a frickin’ terrible day. (Hi, my name is Marcus, and I have a bad attitude.) Yesterday I wrote about a skin rash that’s recently developed on my scrotum. (For everyone who wrote or called me in response and asked, “How’s your penis doing?”–Thank you, your support means the world to me and Junior.) Anyway, this morning I saw my dermatologist. Convinced my problem was related to my family’s change in laundry detergent, I hoped he’d simply look things over, tell me the worst was behind me, and recommend a different soap. Instead he looked things over and said, “I’ll be right back. I’d like to do a biopsy.”

Y’all, if you’ve never had a chunk of skin removed from your private parts, I don’t recommend it. Like, if you’re ever given the option to have it done, go to a movie instead. Granted, it wasn’t unbearable. The rubbing alcohol followed by the shot for numbing the area were the worst parts. (Yowza.) I didn’t actually feel the skin removal. But then the doctor cauterized my flesh back together with what essentially amounted to a miniature cattle prod, this little magic wand that just so happened to be plugged into an electrical outlet. “Is that the sound of my flesh burning?” I asked.

“Yes, and the smell,” he said.

The doctor said the biopsy should take a week to get back, but that my “situation” could possible be psoriasis, which, he was encouraging enough to point out, isn’t curable. (I personally take serious issue with this idea, that a magnificently intelligent body and universe can produce a problem but not a solution.) “But we don’t know that’s what it is,” he said. “It could be a form of eczema, or even cancer. There are, after all, 3,000 skin conditions in dermatology.”

Uh, is this supposed to be a pep talk? I thought.

“So this just, like, popped up?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said. “There has to be a first day for everything.”

I still can’t decide if he was being funny or serious.

Before I left his office, the doctor wrote me a prescription for a stronger steroid cream than the one I’ve been using, so I went to Walmart to have it filled. While I waited, I picked up some Epsom salt to use in the bathtub, since that did seem to help when I tried it a couple days ago. Also, I bought some “free and clear” detergent for sensitive skin, even though the doctor said he thought the fact that this problem showed up after our detergent change was a coincidence. My logic in buying it was that I have to try something. Also, considering the fact that my skin has been extra sensitive and full of histamine since last year when my big sinus infection drama started, why not do everything I can to avoid making it any more irritated than it already is? To that end, I’ve been doing laundry all evening, washing my sheets, towels, and every piece of clothing I own. (This is where being a minimalist and not owning many clothes comes in handy.) So, that’s why I look naked in the above picture–all my shirts are hanging up to dry.

I’m starting to think of my body as a gypsy wagon.

Tonight I spent some time reading about psoriasis and skin conditions online. The “granola people” (natural health food folks) claim skin problems can be caused by anything from yeast overgrowth to parasite infestation. Both thoughts terrify me, and yet I can’t stop reading about them. Currently I’m thinking about every even-slightly red spot on my body and scaring myself to death, imaging myself turning into The Elephant Man. Since these last few months have been one medical problem after another, I’m starting to think of my body as a gypsy wagon bouncing down a rocky road–everything falling off left and right.

Regardless of the cause of various skin conditions, the consensus on the internet says diet is “the answer” (along with these supplements that just happen to be on sale, of course). Be a vegan, eat Paleo, whatever–basically cut out sugar, wheat, dairy, coffee, and alcohol–or, in other words, your entire social life. Honestly, I’ve tried strict dietary changes before. And whereas they do help, they’ve yet to produce any miracles. Not that I’m unwilling to try again–eating clean would surely only help my body–but it takes a lot of willpower, energy, and focus to “eat right,” and–quite frankly–I’m out of all three of those things at this point in my life.

Now I’m ready to go to bed. Each night before I fall asleep, part of me hopes that all these physical problems that just popped up will disappear while I slumber. Sometimes I think of chronic health problems I’ve had in the past that eventually went away and remind myself that my body truly is capable of healing. I can’t think that healing has ever happened as fast as I wanted it to, but it has happened over and over again. So tonight I’m telling myself that if “there has to be a first day for everything,” then there has to be a last day for everything too. Surely nothing in this universe comes to stay. Surely this too shall pass.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Even a twisted tree grows tall and strong.

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