April's CR Diary

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August 31, 2007

Tarragon Found

My mother likes to write email messages that contain the information to be conveyed in the subject line, then the body is empty. This is the one I got today:

Tarragon found.

Yea!

Tarragon recipes to follow soon...

Posted by april at 10:08 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 30, 2007

It's A Long Hard Road That Leads to a Brighter Day

Tonight I'm writing, but I'm writing a piece for my organization's newsletter about our most recent victory, Scranton, the second of our twin baby campaigns this year. A diversion from CR, but it may help give you some perspective on what my life is like. I changed a few names to protect the innocent!

Many of our members have been through an organizing drive when they first organized their facility, but very few have been through a losing campaign. The nurses at this hospital in Scranton, who voted to join our organization by an overwhelming majority of over 2 to 1 on July 19, suffered through two losses before they finally won the right to a seat at the table where decisions are made.

This hospital was always at the head of the pack when it came to taking from nurses and patients. In 1993, it led the way among hospital employers in eliminating nurses’ defined benefit pension plan, replacing it with a much inferior “Cash Balance” plan. In 1998, nurses tried to organize to stop the cuts, contacting our predecessor, PSEA. They got very little support from the union, and the nurse leaders of the campaign were largely left on their own to do the best they could. Two years later they contacted another union, who ran a serious campaign but fell just short of a victory. Management’s expensive consultants scripted every meeting that managers and executives conducted with nurses, making promises they never had any intention of keeping. The nurses who led the fight suffered a heartbreaking defeat. It’s hard to imagine, if you’ve never been there, what it’s like to go into the hospital the day after a losing vote. The knowledge that you have to work, day after day, for an employer who lied to you and your co-workers, and that you have no security, either for your job or your benefits, is terrifying. Brave nurses who staked their reputations and their careers on the hope of organizing the union saw their dreams of a real voice on the job slip away as the votes were counted. They had no way of knowing, in 2000, that seven years later all the effort they made would pay off in the biggest organizing victory Pennsylvania had seen in a decade.

The first challenged in helping nurses to organize at a facility that has suffered many losses is to get past the sense of futility and despair that follows a failed campaign. New leaders had to emerge who were willing to take on the struggle of organizing their co-workers. And emerge they did – many of them from among those who had voted “No” in two previous elections. They saw management’s broken promises with their own eyes, and they knew it was time for nurses to stand up for themselves. Nurses who had given their entire adult life to the hospital – working overtime, holidays, weekends, giving up time with their families – had been “rewarded” with stagnating salaries, reductions in holidays and sick time, and draconian cuts in pension and health care. Meanwhile, new nurses were entering the hospital only to find short staffing and lack of ancillary help made it impossible for them to give the care they were trained to deliver. Nurses joined together from across the floors and units, bridging the barriers between experienced and junior staff, to stand up as one voice.

The final straw was probably administration’s decision, a few months before the organizing campaign began in earnest, to lay off very senior employees. As these nurses and other staff were escorted out of the building like criminals, rather than as dedicated community members who had given years of service to the hospital, nurses around them said, “Enough is enough!” When a nurse with thirty year of experience has to fear for his or her job, it’s time for nurses to take back the power that administration has so badly misused.

One of the main reasons why these nurses called us was that they saw the success of the nurses at (hospital in the next town over) in securing excellent contracts in the face of tremendous management opposition. The nurses knew they needed to join a union that would never stop fighting until nurses won the respect they deserve, and the strike of 2003, where nurses stood up for their patients and received overwhelming support from their community, was an inspiration.

The administration retained (name deleted) one of the nation’s most notorious anti-union consulting firms, for over ten years in order to keep its nurses unorganized. The nurses were unpersuaded by the union buster’s lies – mostly because they had been lied to before. They stood up time and time again and questioned management in round the clock mandatory meetings, where they were pulled away from patient care at all hours of the day and night to listen to the CEO and Director of Nursing lie about the union.

Worst of all, the nurses had to endure a three week hearing at the National Labor Relations Board in order to even win the right to a vote! Changes in labor law put forth by George Bush’s labor board opened the door to hospital employers to spend thousands of dollars in legal fees to contend that every nurse who takes charge on the floor is a supervisor! Nurses had to get up and testify before the Board – in front of their Director of Nursing and nurse managers – to prove that they are not in fact supervisors. With no guarantees that they would win union protection, or even that there would be a vote, more than a dozen nurses testified before the Board, and were supported by over forty of their co-workers who attended the hearings.

Staff organizer Luke worked with the nurses throughout the campaign. Nurses frequently remarked on Luke's professionalism and accessibility. He was joined in the last months by new organizer Lisa, who excelled in her first organizing assignment.

“It’s impossible to explain what it means to lose a campaign,” said Director of Organizing April Smith, who made the decision to commit our resources to the Scranton effort and led the campaign. “When people have been through a loss, you just can’t put them through that again. I wasn’t going to run this campaign unless I was sure of a win. When I met and got to know the nurses at (hospital x), especially those who had fought for so many years to win the union, I knew this was a group of nurses who could not only withstand management’s campaign, but who would eventually become one of the strongest locals of the organization. We should all be proud to count them among our members.”

Nurses will begin contract negotiations in September.

Remember months ago when I quoted that old Michael McDonald song, from which the headline is taken? These nurses, who have fought bravely down the long, hard road, have convinced me that it's always worth fighting to see that brighter day. There was a time when I wasn't sure I could keep going... wasn't sure it was worth the blood sweat and tears it takes to organize nurses... but they brought me back. One in particular brought me back. I'll write about her soon... but in the meantime, I am blessed and honored to have worked with them through this process.

Never be lonely, lost in the night
Just run from the darkness, looking for the light
Cause it's a long hard road
That leads to a brigher day
Don't let your heart grow cold
Just reach out and call her name.

Posted by april at 7:01 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

We've Got But One Shot At Life; Let's Take It While We're Still Not Afraid

I am so sick of my own excuses.

You think you've got excuses why you don't stick to CR, your diet, or whatever. I can assure you, mine are even more clever, in their own totally lacking in internal logic way, than yours. Yours might make some sense, but mine just *pretend* to make sense. Let's see:

1. I had to have a second drink because my best friend ordered one, and I want to join him. After all, he's been a very good sport about this whole CR thing. Yes, I'll have another cabernet.
[For the record, this is a friend who has explicitly stated his support for my CR goals, and who has stood right by me through a lot of things more difficult than a change in eating habits. He doesn't care if I have another drink... it's just an excuse!]

2. My favorite bar tender gave us the bruschetta for free! If I don't eat it, he'll be hurt! I can't hurt anyone's feelings!

3. I am tired/sick/upset/whatever because someone died/I just won two campaigns/it's very hot out/I feel sorry for myself for no good reason.

4. My friends won't love me anymore if I don't eat the same things they do. [Again, friends who have been asked if they care what I eat and who explicitly state that I can eat whatever I want, as long as it's a) not a member of their family or a close friend b) not still squirming on the plate.]

5. I won't seem social if I don't eat the fried calimari. [You can't use the word "squriming" without soon referring to calimari.]

6. Calories don't count if they're just a bite off my friend's plate.

7. I'm going to be sitting here chatting for another two hours so I may as well have another glass of wine (never mind that I'm on my fourth seltzer and everyone is okay with that... it's an excuse!)

This, my friends, is what we call bullshit.

[I suggest the blog trolls who hate anyone who eats fewer calories than they do stop reading here. You won't like this post. Everyone else: if it be thy will to continue, keep reading.]

For so long now I've watched myself make excuses for why I don't practice CR to the fullest of my ability. Life never fails to present us with excuses: very valid, plausible excuses. I find the longer I do CR, the better the excuses get. They float through my mind... just eat something, really, there's a good reason for it! It's just the underlying biology talking, the stuff that wants us to eat as much as we can now so we can bear healthy children during a famine. This is especially strong I think for women of childbearing years. EAT! It's just instinct, but it's good at disguising itself as reason.

There are three essential steps to CR:

1. Eat the right things.
People try to skip this, and that is why they fail. You can not restrict calories successfully unless you get proper nutrition from your food FIRST.

2. Don't eat the wrong things.
This is what gets me as of late. Food off of other people's plates = NO!

3. Manage hunger.
Yes, we manage hunger. With our macronutrient ratios, our meal timing, our calorie consistency (even GASP! weighing our food!) we make sure that we can restrict calories without feeling uncomfortably hungry.

That's how you do CR, in three easy steps. Now where is my book contract?

I know that there's only one way, at the moment, to retard biological aging. And that's my goal. I want to look good, feel good, fight the good fight and win at my work (which as most of you know is extremely stressful but highly rewarding) and keep going well into my nineties and hundreds. When I look at my almost ninety year old grandmother, I am filled with hope for my future. I have the chance, starting now, to be even healthier than she is at that age. But what I do today, this week, this year, will make the difference.

I was profoundly affected by my grandfather's death. Sometimes when MR looks at me sadly because I do something like open a can of soup instead of eating a nutritionally perfect meal, I just want to scream, "CHILL THE F*&% OUT!" Sometimes I do, in fact, scream such.

But the fact is, when he sees me doing things that are not health-preserving, he worries about a future without me. He worries that I'll leave him, the way my grandfather had to leave my grandmother. Not for another lover, but for death.

I really don't want to do that to my angel. And while he can be a bit extreme (darling, it is calories, calories, calories, remember? The occasional Progresso lite soup won't forever do us part!) he has my best interests at heart.

I've been sad, very sad, at the fact that some of the people closest to me really don't take care of themselves. And sometimes I just live the same kind of life that they live, I think because I don't want to deal with the fact that someday I'll have to be without them. It's a weird loyalty thing: if we're all killing ourselves together, then somehow it's okay. But it doesn't work that way. I have to make my own choices, even when those choices battle instinct and biological drive and the thought of how good that third glass of wine would taste. Sometimes setting a good example works: recently a young co-worker of mine asked for help getting her diet to work, and quit smoking. I was so happy! (Now if I can only get her to eat the RDA of calcium... chocolate whey powder in skim milk might be the key...) But I don't say anything unless I'm asked. It's not really my business what path others choose. I try to just enjoy the time we have together right now, and squeeze all the life out of my friends that I can get while they're right in front of me. Makes them sound like citrus fruit, doesn't it?

This weekend, as I watched my grandfather die, I thought about how MR has never been sick a single day since we got together. How it's likely that he'll out live me, because though I have fat girl mouse genetics on my side (see the studies about the naturally fat mice who live longer, when on CR, than the naturally skinny mice. We naturally chubby girls knew we'd win in the end!) he started CR a lot earlier and pursues it more vigorously than I do... so far anyway. Yet I want to be young and healthy and vibrant as long as I can be... and I've joined my life with someone who has the same priority. Granted, I ordered him over the internet from Canada: it's not every day that one comes across a skinny redheaded life-extensionist who can quote the Bible and Pub Med in the same post, all while looking cute. Now that he's arrived safely, I keep him in a three story habitat where he's fed three times a day. We expect him to live long in captivity, sheltered from the natural predators who eat skinny boys in the wild.

I don't blame him when he occasionally wonders (when my CR is slipping) if he'll be the one who gets left behind while I age and die. He works so hard at his CR and at his job with SENS, (you can order the book here!) and it would be sad indeed if I let my many excuses come between us and a happy, long life.

While I was driving to Scranton I heard the old Rod Stewart song from which the headline is lifted. I remember listening to that song as we got together, as MR took his job with Aubrey de Grey and I started as a fundraiser for the Mprize.

I felt like we were running away from home, like the kids in the song. Run and never look back.

Well, here we are. I ran right back to the labor movement, where I belong, because it is that other thing in life that I love and believe in and live for. MR has the sense not to be jealous: he wants the workers to win too, and understands how much I have to sacrifice to make it so.

But he's not willing to sacrifice me, nor should he have to. I should be able to figure out how to balance my job and my social life and real, serious CR. Not just this obesity avoidance crap I've been engaging in for the last four months or so. (which is not to say that obesity avoidance is bad... nay, it is good. But it just won't get me all the way to my specific longevity goals.)

CR is, at the moment, our only shot at life. Maybe it's not for you: that's fine with me, I'm not trying to convert you. But for me, there's really no alternative.

I'm afraid of a lot of things: of my own biological drive to EAT EAT EAT! Of my friends' disapproval. Of the overwhelming outpouring of hatred onto those who engage in public displays of health.

But I've got one shot at life, and it's not too late for me.

Today was pretty good: salad with cottage cheese for breakfast and dinner, Ruby Tuesday's salad for lunch. Should have had one fewer glass of pinot noir at dinner, but calories still solidly below 1400. That's real CR friends... CR for those of us who don't have much weight left to lose and who actually weigh and measure our foods. It's not 1000 calories a day.... if you really eat that, you'll rapidly disappear, unless you are four foot five.

Yesterday in Pilates class, one of the students, who is probably in her fifties, said, "I wonder how people feel who *don't* work out." It was on the topic of how we feel if we miss a week of class or something. I almost volunteered, "Awful!" I know because until recently I was one of those people who didn't work out, and while I'd say that I feel better doing CR with no exercise than I did doing exercise with no CR, the best combination by far is exercise plus CR. The difference in how I feel on a day to day basis is huge. It gives me the energy to do the other things I need to do in life, and it makes the difference between just slogging through and really feeling good while I go about my daily activities.

I'm off on my way home now to stop off at Whole Foods and buy flax oil, then another day at the wild and crazy happy job. My grandfather's memorial service will be next weekend, and I'll wear my prettiest black suit which I know he would have loved. They say that living well is the best revenge. I find this to be the case, but I also think that living well is the best memorial.

Posted by april at 6:28 AM | Comments (13) | TrackBack

August 29, 2007

More On Why It's Impossible To Estimate Calories When You Eat Out

I didn't want to go out yesterday, but one of my staff was quite adamant that she needed to go out, and she even offered to buy me lunch, so I went. Of course I had a lovely time, as I always do with one of my three favorite staff members (I have three staff members, so they are all my favorite!) but I felt rather full after lunch, even though I had what I thought would be an easy to estimate and enter into COM meal. I had the tequilla lime chicken salad, which is just six ounces of chicken breast on top of a green salad with a touch of avocado, black beans, and a tomato basil chipoltle vinegarette on the side, of which I used a tablespoon.

By dinner I still wasn't hungry, so I didn't eat. I couldn't figure out how I could have had enough calories to make me not hungry five hours later. Then MR sent me this:

7 Ways Chefs Sabotage Your Diet

Aha! I wonder what happened to that chicken before it got to my plate!

Thanks so much to all for your kind comments. I'm doing okay, and my grandmother seems to be doing well. My father and step-mother took her out to dinner last night, and it was her first dinner outside of the retirement community in two years! In his last approximately two years my grandfather wouldn't leave the house, and he got very frightened when she left him for more than a half hour or so, so she just didn't leave, other than to go to the grocery store or to the dining room at the retirement community. My parents took her to a nice restaurant and then drove her all around town to see the things that had changed. The memorial service will be in a week and a half, and I'm going to wear my prettiest black suit. My grandfather would want everyone dressed to the nines... he was the biggest male fashionista I've ever met. He had more ties than a Brooks Brothers outlet.

Today I'm off to Scranton... again. Just for one night this time. Then home to spend Thursday night and the weekend with MR before he heads off to England for SENS.

Posted by april at 7:53 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

August 27, 2007

They Say That These Are Not the Best of Times, But They're the Only Times I've Ever Known

That's from Billy Joel's "Summer Highland Falls," a song that people who love me should study like the Bible.

My grandfather died today. My grandmother was with him. All the children saw him Saturday night, and my father and step-mother showed up minutes after he was gone. I'm so very grateful that I was able to be with him, and her, at the end.

And I believe there is a time for meditation in cathedrals of our own.

Is there such a thing as a good death? MR might say no. Surely, if one had a good quality of life, one would not want to die. But when there isn't quality of life, then there's a time when it's time to let go. With pets, we let them go with dignity, as soon as they start to suffer and can't be saved. With people, we are not so generous. They have to endure days or months or even years before they're allowed to go peacefully on their way.

I'm grateful that my grandfather didn't have to wait too long. And I am so blessed to have been there at the end. I held his hand and said, "You can go now. Kitty will be okay. She's ready for you to go... we'll take care of her."

My grandmother is so strong, so tough. In the end, she was stronger than he was. She's going to live on, for many years. I'm especially grateful for this, cause I feel like there are very few people on earth to whom I will ever be more close. Up at the dining room at the retirement community she was telling folks that I was her twin sister, and you know, people saw the logic to it. "That must have been a long labor!" said one particularly funny resident. They said that I must be related to my grandmother cause I always had a snappy comeback. I just hope that at ninety something I am as pretty as she is, and as sharp.

Today was hard. I didn't get up and go to the gym. Nope, I slept in, then I napped on the downstairs couch with Kieffer. And then I hobbled into work (I did meditate for half an hour) and I got a bunch done. Then I went out to lunch with two co-workers, and as soon as I got back to the office I got the voice mail message that my grandfather had gone. I knew he would, and I was relieved. But it was still hard. I called my step-mother, my dad, my grandmother. They're okay. I'll go down soon for the memorial service.

I had a good breakfast: eggwhites with nonfat cheese, flax oil, brewers yeast, hot sauce.

Good lunch, though out, so not sure on the calorie count: salad with romaine, tomatoes, cucumbers, red peppers, chickpeas, red onion, grilled shrimp, kalamata olives, balsamic vinegar on the side.

Tonight I opened a can of Progresso soup cause I just needed the comfort of food in cans, couldn't deal with cold salad or real food. Had called MR and told him to make his own dinner a few hours before.

Felt bad about eating food in cans, but I'm sorry, Little Miss Perfect is on strike today. It was food in cans or nothing, cause I had bigger fish to fry tonight than organic homemade whatever.
Just past five pm my best friend met me for a drink at the bar across from my house. Jack Daniels and Diet Coke. Again, I reiterate, Little Miss Perfect is on strike. She needed a drink.

Calorie-wise, I'm right on target, but I'm low on calcium in a big way. I'll make up for it tomorrow. Tonight, I've just got to focus on being grateful for my grandfather's life, and grateful that I was there at the very end for him and my grandmother.

"It's a God thing," said my step-mother about the timing of my visit, paying me perhaps the most profound compliment she's ever given me.

Maybe you believe in that kind of thing, maybe you don't. But I know that this weekend, I felt the presence of God in my family, and in the blessing that my grandparents' lives have been to so many people.

This is called Summer Highland Falls:

They say that these are not the best of times
But they're the only times I've ever known
And I believe there is a time for meditation
In cathedrals of our own

Now I have seen that sad surrender in my lover's eyes
And I can only stand apart and sympathize
For we are always what our situations hand us
It's either sadness or euphoria

And so we'll argue and we'll compromise
And realize that nothing's ever changed
For all our mutual experience
Our separate conclusions are the same

Now we are forced to recognize our inhumanity
Our reason coexists with our insanity
So we choose between reality and madness
It's either sadness or euphoria

How thoughtlessly we dissipate our energies
Perhaps we don't fulfill each other's fantasies
And as we stand upon the ledges of our lives
With our respective similarities
It's either sadness or euphoria

Posted by april at 9:55 PM | Comments (19) | TrackBack

August 26, 2007

Look At That Little Girl Eating Her Fruit Like She's Supposed To!

Or: "My grandfather is dying, but at least the food is good!"

I went down this weekend to North Carolina to visit my grandparents. My grandfather is 93, and after living an extraordinary life (of which I will write more later) he took a turn for the worse about a year ago and now he's quite ill, unable to get out of bed, and recently refusing food and drink. He says he wants to die, and the family believes him. This has all been hard on my vibrant, social, healthy grandmother, who won't tell us her age, but we suspect she's at least 89. She still drives. She has a lot more energy than I do.

I knew it would be the last time I saw my grandfather alive, and I'm so glad I went. I'm glad I got to say goodbye, and also glad I got to help my grandmother out during one of the most difficult weekends of her life. Seventy-two years of marriage... can you imagine? Not easy to just let someone go. She said they used to say they'd die together in a plane crash. She wasn't so lucky... she's tougher than he is, and likely to outlast him by many years. I can imagine her clearing 100 with ease.

Being around her gave me new CR-inspiration. She's always been tiny... about 100 pounds at 5'4" her whole life. Most of the time, they ate fish, fruit, yogurt, veggies. She never drank nor smoked, and she drank a ton of Diet Coke and coffee. She is still quite beautiful at 90ish. The pictures of her when she was young (like 55!) are just stunning. It makes me think that with genes like those, and the knowledge and willingness to work at it, I could remain just as healthy as she is if not healthier long past my nineties. She never lifted weights, monitored her nutrition, took supplements, or watched her diet. She's doing great, but with some muscle tone and bone strength, she'd be doing even better. She urged me to keep using sunscreen and stay out of the sun to preserve my skin.

I love hanging out at her retirement community. Every evening at 5 pm (which I think is the ideal dinner hour) the residents converge upon the dining room. There, they help themselves to a salad bar that has every treasure a CR practitioner could want, from raw broccoli to vinegar to cottage cheese. Unlimited. Free wine. The buffet always has a healthy option: Friday night, I had a grilled chicken breast with nothing on it. Saturday, it was grilled tilapia. Sunday brunch I had an eggwhite omlette with all the veggies. There's always a giant fruit bowl filled with melon, pineapple, berries, and anything you could want. That's why the gentleman quoted in the blog title observed me eating a bowl of fruit. While there are other, unhealthy choices, there are so many good choices that it's easy to eat right.

My grandmother is a social butterfly. She knows everyone, and they love her. All the waitresses call her "Miss Kitty" (her name is Kitty) and all the residents know her and ask her if there's anything they can do to help now that my grandfather is so sick. The people she eats with are just wonderful... from all over the country, but come to NC to retire mostly cause their children are nearby. They all have fascinating life stories, and they're so kind to my grandparents. I think they take special care of them because my grandparents are the oldest people in the community. Before my grandfather got sick, they'd come to the dining room wearing matching suits, and they'd dance in the door way. They loved to dance. They danced in Paris, London, New York...

Quite the extraordinary life.

But more on that later. While I was up at the dining room I met my grandmothers' friends, and they impressed me greatly by asking me if I was in high school and if I had plans for college. I am 33, so I was quite pleased by this, even though it can likely be attributed to:

a) their failing eyesight
b) their Southern manners.

Still, I'll take all the compliments I can get, and blame it on CR. One of the asked if I was my father's granddaughter. That person will be my best friend forever.

My parents are staying the night tonight, and I suspect that my grandfather won't make it more than two days. He wanted a memorial service, not a funeral, so I imagine it will be a couple of weeks then I'll be making a trip back down.

Tomorrow is back to work, and I will attempt to re-connect with my normal world. It was quite the weekend out of time... I felt like I got to visit with past generations. My grandmother is such an amazing woman... such a connector of people and places and ideas. I hope she lives a long, long time.

Posted by april at 7:36 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 23, 2007

Rough Two Days

It's been a hard two days. The really good part is that we had a huge turnout at my meetings on Wednesday, and folks are ready to take on management and negotiate a great contract. Spent lots of quality time with my staff, absolutely adore my new staff member, and got a ton done at the meetings.

Bad: we are all just in shock about the nurse whose son was killed on Sunday night. We've gotten more detail, and while I can't share the info out of respect for her privacy, I can tell you that his death is an unbearable, unjustifiable tragedy. Just two weeks ago the same sort of car accident happened to the son of another nurse at the hospital. It's like a cloud is hanging over our heads. I did more grief counseling in three days than I'd done in my entire career. I'm going to ask my dad, the church pastor, for advice.

A rather bad CR few days... managed to avoid eating off others' plates on Tuesday, but on Wednesday had a bite here and there. Worked out Tuesday, Wednesday. Didn't have time this morning, as had to leave early to get to negotiations at the older of the twins, and I barely slept for nightmares of car accidents.

Tomorrow I fly away to visit my grandparents. Can't wait to see my grandmother.

More when I can.

Posted by april at 5:46 PM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

August 20, 2007

What Went Well, What Went Not So Well

When I was in high school, we used to start one of our acting classes with an exercise called "Good/Bad."

You'd name something good that had happened to you that day, then something bad.

It's actually a rather helpful exercise because it forces you to put things in balance. Not all good, not all bad. Every day has both.

Good today for me:

1. Exercise. Hit the gym shortly after five, did treadmill and weights.
2. Breakfast. Ate a super healthy and yummy breakfast of eggwhites, brewers yeast, nonfat cheese, flax oil and hot sauce.
3. Car. Got the oil and transmission fluid changed.
4. Work. Great day. Got tons done, checked in with all my staff, met new staff person, solved some assignment problems.
5. Cooking: Made nice dinner for MR, using up some kale stems.
6. Cats: One purring on my lap.

Bad:
1. Meditation. Didn't do it. Ran out of time between gym, breakfast, and having to meet friend at service station where I was leaving my car.
2. Lunch. Well, medium. Went out with co-workers, ordered good salad: Cobb with about four oz grilled chicken, some avocado, eggs (I only eat the whites) tomato, romaine, arugula, vinegar and dressing on side. That part was great, but I also ate a few bites of the fried calamari that my co-worker ordered. I really need to include in my daily meditation that I will not eat ONE BITE of the evil co-worker food. Susie went so far as to accuse Edward of an Unfair Lunch Practice for ordering the calamari.
3. Housecleaning. Well, maybe someday that will get done. Tomorrow morning before I leave for Scranton, perhaps?

I had a very sad thing happen first thing this morning at work. I got word that the son of one of my nurses had been killed in a car accident. Just horrible. There are no words to describe such a loss, and all I can do is express my sympathy and pray for her and her family. I can't imagine the horror she must be going through. Losing a child is probably the worst thing that can happen to a person.

Whenever I hear these stories, I feel very silly for any minute I've wasted in my life being less than happy over stupid, trivial things. When we can wake up in the morning healthy, enjoy the company of the people we love, give our lives to meaningful work, and get enough to eat and a decent cup of coffee and glass of wine, we are in paradise. So many people in the world don't have these things, and for those who have experienced a loss like the loss of a child, the simple act of living day to day would be heaven.

There's nothing I can do to bring back those we've lost. But I do feel like I can honor their memory by living each day to the fullest, and loving those around me as completely as I can.

This weekend I go to visit my grandparents. Chances are, it will be the last time I see my grandfather. At least I get to see him.

Well, I'm going to spend the last hours of my day loving my kitties and my boyfriend. Every morning I wake up next to MR grateful for two things:

1. That I am waking up next to the man I love.
2. That I get to sleep for another fifteen minutes while he assembles my pills and morning cranberry juice drink.

Love is grand, but so is a good snooze.

Posted by april at 5:42 PM | Comments (5) | TrackBack

The Five AM Club

This is just an experiment.

And it's nothing like the Mile High Club. While I'm sure some people like to have sex at five am, I can assure you that at that hour, the love of my life will be meaningfully engaged in making a salad.

I've been managing to work out just about every day, but it seems like there are still days when work goes so crazy that I never manage to get to the gym. That's bad. With the work stress as high as it's been, exercise is more necessary than ever. It's the greatest stress-reduction, anti-anxiety measure I've ever found.

So my new strategy is to get up at 5 with MR, but instead of lying in bed until 6, which I've been doing a lot lately (and sometimes later) I'm getting up and going straight to the gym. Immediately. Workout first thing, so that except on days when I have to actually leave for work at 5 am, I'll get my workout in no matter what.

I've always suspected that there was this strange club of people who work out at the crack of dawn or before, right when the gym opens. Maybe they have secret handshakes, signs and words. I'm about to find out.

Quick, I have to get out the door before I talk myself out of this and go back to bed!

Posted by april at 5:01 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 18, 2007

Eggplant White Pizzas With Farmers' Market Zucchinis

I am not making this up. MR woke up in the middle of the night yelling, "Zucchini! Zucchini!"

"I'm right here, sweetie," I said reassuringly. He went back to sleep.

I guess that stuffed zucchini really made an impression.

Tonight I'm making white eggplant pizzas with more of the fresh farmers' market zucchini and the very interesting eggplant that he adored last night when I cooked it up.

Farmers' Market Heirloom eggplant, cut into big disks and pre-steamed
Quorn tenders
Farmers' Market zucchini (yellow, shaped like hats)
Fat free mozzarella
Olives
Capers
Olive oil and flax oil
Basil, oregano, garlic

You get the idea.

We had a much needed relaxing day. I did the grocery shop, went to the gym, we had our fancy weekend breakfast with big veggie eggwhite omlettes and Big Train low carb pancakes. Got to spend some time together, took a big long nap. Really nice, great for stress reduction.

Thanks to all for your stress reduction tips! I have indeed done guided imagery before, and I should do it again. I can even run through various scenes myself.

Recently I've started doing a little bit of a cross between Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and meditation with a mantra. My mantra is: "My thoughts control my feelings." It's great for fighting off an anxiety attack, which is exactly what I was having in the middle of the night most of the week as work went TOTALLY INSANE. Have I mentioned that my job is really, really stressful?

Tomorrow my mom is preaching at a church in town, so I'm going to church with her and then we'll probably go to lunch and perhaps even do some shoe shopping. My black shoes look like they've been through a safari.

Posted by april at 4:02 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 17, 2007

A Zucchini You Can Really Stuff

These Farmers' Market veggies are providing hours of entertainment for the entire family. The green zucchinis that are round like Christmas balls are especially fun. I hollowed them out, mixed their innards with nonfat sour cream and mozzarella and garlic and eggwhites, and then stuffed them. There was sufficient innard mix that I topped the white eggplant I bought at the same Farmers' Market with it, and all of these will be steamed, then the eggplants topped with avocado. Let it never be said that we lack for healthy fat in our house. Two teaspoons of oil for MR, one for me.

Side order of fresh yellow cherry tomatoes, so sweet and pop in your mouth type of thing.

This week at work was incredibly stressful. That's putting it mildly. With my partner in running the organization and my key staff person on vacation all week, a major kerfuffle erupted forcing me to do everyone's work plus my own. I feel like I've been run over by a train. I really couldn't sleep most of this week for worrying. I often worry that this job will kill me. The stress is unbelievable. But the rewards are so great... watching my nurses win over and over again. It's worth it. But I'm taking Pilates, meditating, doing 45 mins per day on the treadmill, and tonight after dinner I'm going for a long relaxing walk. Please post all your stress-reduction suggestions.

Stuffed zucchini. Gotta love it.

Posted by april at 6:06 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

"Eat Like Me" Blog on Self.com

Just found the "Eat Like Me" blog on the Self.com website. Reading it just makes me want to eat high calorie, low nutrient foods. It seems like this person eats bread or potatoes with every meal. If I ate like that, I'd be a lot heavier than I am. Oh wait, I did used to eat like that! Back before I discovered that filling my tummy with bagels and bread didn't give me much satisfaction -- no wonder, as they're nutrionally almost worthless -- and left me hungry just a few hours later.

If that works for her, great. But I wouldn't offer it as advice to people wanting to lose weight or maintain weight loss. I do, however, agree with the Rudd Center entry on the topic that says there's no one size fits all for weight loss or maintaining. That is definitely the case. Sometimes I think there's no one size fits me, as I adapt my CR practice over time and change.

I do like the fact that she occasionally eats pizza and such. People can't handle the idea of "giving up" anything, whether it's pizza, sugar, eating out, or watching Big Cat Rescue videos. In general, I think that's a failing in our culture. There are some things that make sense to give up, not out of some sense of punishing yourself, but out of a reasoned decision that the items or behaviors don't serve you well. That your life would be better if you didn't have them. Nobody minds (well, a few people mind, but they don't talk about it) when a person marries and gives up having sex with other people. Nobody minds when an alcoholic gives up drinking. But if you admit publically to removing a food from your diet, OH NO YOU MUST HAVE AN EATING DISORDER! So I think that anyone who is going to give advice on diet has to have a few public displays of eating gak. That makes people feel comfortable. And I happen to like pizza a lot. Had a piece last night at negotiations (when I walked out without my food and negotiations went late... oooops!) It was yummy, and I still didn't go over my calorie target for the day. But my real food would have been more nutritious.

I have to hand it to this blogging girl... the very public act of eating in any way that can be remotely considered healthy is a dangerous thing these days, and she's brave to open herself up to criticism. Sounds like a nice, fun girl, with great pictures of her food. I don't think I'll check the site too often though... if I want to experience lust, I'd rather be looking at pictures of Keith Olbermann than pictures of bagels.

Posted by april at 4:29 AM | Comments (6) | TrackBack

August 16, 2007

"You're A Vegetable Whisperer"

That's what MR said yesterday as he ate his dinner of funky fun farmers' market veggies. I was explaining how I just listen to the veggies and they tell me how they want to be prepared.

The beautiful little yellow tomatoes, for instance, wanted to be turned into a bruchetta-like dish, so I sliced them and sat them down on some steamed eggplant rounds. Then I topped them with nonfat mozzarella, capers, a little garlic powder, a dash of red wine vinegar, basil, oregano, and after microwaving to melt the cheese, I added flax oil to their tops and little puffs of nonfat ricotta. Kinda like the bruchetta they make at the Italian restaurant across the street, but on eggplant instead of bread.

The funny squash that I bought that looked a bit like a child's spinning top wanted to be a bit spicier, so I coated it with a bit of Whole Foods hot sauce, then topped with eggwhites, a dash of chili powder, and after heating, topped with big slices of avocado.

I try to get out of the stew-like dish rut as much as possible, as it's easy to fall into the habit of putting all the veggies in a pot with their protein and the fat source and the spices and serving that every night. So pizza-like dishes, or dishes where the individual items can be picked up and eaten like crackers with toppings, are good.

I just love the Allentown Farmers' Market this time of year. So many fascinating veggies to play with. All varieties of eggplants and squash this time, including a giant purple and white eggplant that I can't wait to break into. Also some green zucchinis that are very light green and shaped like little balls, almost like Christmas tree balls. Weird!

Tonight I'll be making dinner for MR but leaving it for him as I have contract negotiations on the older of the twin campaigns,the one in Philly, and they'll go late. Probably won't get home until about 9 or 10, so I'm messing with my CRON-O-Meter now trying to figure out what I can take for dinner that will both hit my nutritional bases and be portable. I love playing with CRON-O-Meter, now that I've gotten used to the transition from DWIDP. I never played video games, but I think that CRON-O-Meter is my Tetris. It's just fun to mess around with. I'd do it much more if I didn't have a job! But speaking of job... I doubt that we're going to end up ordering any food, and I don't want to be without something to eat. I may just take something small and eat a real dinner when I get home. In winter it's easier cause you can leave cold food in the car and the atmosphere refridgerates it, but not so this time of year. In winter I'd just take a bunch of cottage cheese packs and some nuts and fruit and have good food and then some to share. Maybe I'll bring a big bag of apples and oranges along in case I'm not the only one getting hungry.

I am thinking I should just give the twins blog names so I can refer to them quickly and easily. I'll be going back and forth between the two as we negotiate the contracts. Let me see if I can come up with something appropriate.

Posted by april at 5:53 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 15, 2007

Register for CR Society Conference!

I can't guarantee that you'll meet the love of your life and drag him home to your country, but you might! And even if you don't, you'll have a great time, learn a lot, and make new friends!

Read about it and register here.

Posted by april at 1:31 AM | Comments (1) | TrackBack

August 14, 2007

Sometimes the Beauty of Life Hits Like Lightening Washing Everything Clear

And these dimmers of doubt flicker fade out and disappear.

That's a line from Shawn Colvin's "Kill the Messenger" one of my favorite songs of all time. I heard her sing it in concert in 1993. Wow. Hearing the words

Jane, it sure looks like rain

Echoing above a giant audatorium was one of the most amazing experiences I've ever had.

But nowhere near as amazing as my last meeting, and my last phone call.

You know, I am cynical. I am battlehardened. But there's something about these nurses that, with all due apologies to Stevie Wonder, knocks me off my feet.

These are the people whose job it is to save your life. Maybe you're in a car accident, maybe you're having a routine surgery but something goes wrong and you lose too much blood. They take care of you, they actively advance your healing process, keep you from dying, manage your pain, make sure you can communicate with your loved ones... they get pretty crappy wages, and many of them are working split shifts with their spouses so somebody can be home with the kids. But they'll save your life. and they don't worry so much about their own.

Okay, so I'm showing all the signs of being in love. That's what happens when a group of nurses really gets me. I'm willing to do anything for them. But you've gotta understand... if it weren't for some dedicated, nameless nurses: the love of my life, and my mom, and my best friend's son, and everyone else important in my life, wouldn't be here.

There are so few people who really know what nurses do. They don't call attention to themselves. They don't need to. When you're the patient in the bed, you'll understand. I had the honor this evening of meeting with a twenty some year nurse who could start and IV on a 90 year old heroin addict. What they do is beyond hardcore. There is a part of me that has always wondered if I should do it. But at some point I realized I could do more, for them, and for the patients, by doing exactly what I do. I'm good at what I do. I'm a good cook, but I'm a better organizer. A little discipline, a little love. Not unlike a little garlic, a little chipoltle. You put it together just right, and you achieve perfection.

These nurses, my Scranton girls and guys... here in the middle of coal mining country. Close to the place where my organization had our only strike ever. Northeast PA. It's so beautiful here in falll when all the trees turn. They know they're gorgeous, I think. Just like my cats when they're being cute. Years of evolution have taught the cats, and the trees, how to attract humans.

I realize that there's no way I can describe to you how fabulous my nurses are. There's this one I simply adore. I used to threaten to run away with her. She's forty something, maybe older. She's got a couple of grown kids. She's sharp and witty and tough and I want to be just like her. She's got a couple of puppies and a husband and a house and a nice middle class life. And you know how she got that? By spending the last twenty years saving lives. Giving up her weekends, nights, evenings, holidays, mopping up blood and worse, and standing by your loved ones when they would have died or gotten even sicker had there not been somebody so dedicated and so smart and so talented standing at their bedside.

I am so blessed in that my darling MR understands how much I love my nurses. How much they need me, even when that means I have to be away from home for long stretches. Not every organizer is so lucky. Lots of organizers have partners who resent their commitment to the work.

But it's hard to live by the rules
I never could and still never do

That's the Pretenders coming off my Ipod. I never did live by the rules for what a woman should do. I don't marry, I don't have kids, I've dedicated my life to these strange, rare, beautiful creatures callled nurses... they're so weird, really, you've got a get to know a few to appreciate it. They appear to be so normal, but they can take blood, guts, death, all the pain that the rest of us shy away from... then they just punch out and pop over to run a PTA meeting.

It was only my co-workers who got me through the birth of our twin campaigns. It hurt so bad. One nurse got fired, my primary organizer went out on leave, I had to take over. My CR went to hell (brief nod to the fact that the blog is supposed to be about CR!) and I just tried to hold everyone together. We won both and we won big. My twins are alive and well and screaming.

As Eric Clapton once so memorably said,

My love is alive
My love is alive.

PS: I just got off the phone with the greatest nurse leader of all time. Wow. She is my inspiration. We need to plan the victory party! Maybe I can contrive, somehow, to have some healthy food options there...

Posted by april at 6:45 PM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

Are You Jim's Daughter?

Our lawyer's daughter is 17. She is applying for college. She is quite petite.

Yesterday, I spent the day at our lawyer's office dealing with a major kerfuffle... what else is new? For lunch we went to a Mexican place and I got a salad with grilled sushi tuna and tons of yellow and red tomatoes and avocado, red onion, and a lime vinegarette on the side. Pretty good.

Just before we left the office, one of his staff members asked me, "Are you Jim's daughter?"

Before I hit thirty, I would be pretty upset that dressed up in professional clothes (skirt, jacket, heels, makeup) I would be mistaken for a seventeen year old.

Now, I'm pretty happy. Pre-CR, that never would have happened.

CR can not make you grow younger. But it certainly makes you look younger. And feel younger.

Posted by april at 8:04 AM | Comments (2) | TrackBack

August 12, 2007

Stuffed Zucchini

I headed down to Center City to our lawyer's office because we had to do some fairly urgent work. Once we were done, he gave me a ride home. He said he had to get home quick because he needed to stuff a zucchini.

I decided to stuff a zucchini too. Or one zucchini, and one squash. Here's how I did it:

--nonfat ricotta
--nonfat mozzarrella
--the insides of the zucchinis/squash scooped out with a tablespoon
--garlic, oregano, basil
-- fresh diced tomatoes
--eggwhites

I meant to put artichokes and capers in it, but we seem to be out. Oh well.

So I mixed the fillilngs together and put them into the hollowed out squash. Now they're ready to get popped in the microwave for just a minute to mix the ingredients together. Then they'll be topped with avocado and flax oil and served with a glass of red wine.

When MR came downstairs, happy to see me a bit earlier than he has thought I would make it home, I said, "I've come to stuff your zucchini."

He seemed to experience fear. Not quite sure why. Once he saw me chopping veggies he seemed comforted. I guess everything will be fine.

Posted by april at 6:45 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

Tarragon

We can't seem to find tarragon. It's not at either of the grocery stores near us. I'm sure it's at Whole Foods but that's a long way away and I don't get there much anymore, now that they have decent organics at our local supermarket. I love tarragon, and it's quite annoying to be on the verge of a tarragon crisis, as the spice jar gets emptier with every passing day.

Last night I made a fun dish with tarragon. It was hot so I didn't want it to be a piping hot dinner. I put down a layer of thinly sliced eggplant on a plate, topped it with Quorn tenders and eggwhites, and steamed it to get out the bitterness in the eggplant. Then I covered the plate with diced cucumbers, grape tomatoes, and yellow squash. Covered the entire thing with tarragon vinegar, tarragon, dill, and a dash of garlic powder. Served cold, but the hot stuff on the bottom of the plate lightly steamed the veggies on top. It was different, but MR loved it.
Cucumbers in tarragon vinegar are always a winner.

This is not the first time I've had tarragon issues. When I was in college, you couldn't get tarragon anywhere nearby. The grocery store in downtown New Haven was horrible, and I survived by shopping the little Korean produce market around the corner from my apartment. But no tarragon. So my dad decided to send me a small packet of tarragon from Greensboro, NC, a civilized place with herbs and spices.

He put the packet of tarragon in the same envelope with a check for my semester's tuition.

Now, I went to Yale on a huge amount of financial aid, and took out the full maximum in federal student loans. So that wasn't quite the gargantuan amount of money it might have been. But still, it was a pretty big check.

The check didn't come. And didn't come. For weeks. Finally dad wrote me a new one, cancelled the old one. The new check arrived appropriately on time.

About two months later, I got an envelope in my mail box that had been torn apart and then taped back together. There it was: the check, and a small packet of tarragon. Clearly, it had been searched by the postal service.

Dudes, it's just tarragon. Try it on a chicken salad. You won't get high, but you may discover a thrilling new taste!

Posted by april at 5:47 AM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

August 10, 2007

Cold Creamy Curried Carrot Cucumber Thing

Tonight I finally get to cook dinner. I made something taillored to these super hot summer days, and very vaguely Indian-inspired.

Here's the idea:

a yellow squash
a cucumber
carrots
Quorn, eggwhites, or other protein source
1/2 cup nonfat plain yogurt
curry powder, garlic powder, minced dried onion, dash half salt, dash of hot chili powder
flax and olive oil
juice of fresh lemon

dice it all up, mix together cold. serve cold. adjust the spices to taste.

Nice dish for these hot days! Wish I'd had the sense to make a few days back when it was truly sweltering.

Yogurt is so versitile. It can be sweet, savory, hot, cold, a creamy addition to a soup, a filling salad dressing, or a stand-alone dish. I don't know what I'd do without it.

It's finally a bit cooler here and we've opened all the windows and doors to let the delicious cool air in. MR enjoyed the dinner immensely. I have to work all day Sunday, but at least I'll get tomorrow to grocery shop, clean, and hang out with my MR and my kitties.

Posted by april at 4:23 PM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

Real Men, It Seems, Must Eat Kale

Well, yes. Of course.

Allswell brought my attention to this NY Times Article on women ordering steak on dates to prove that they don't have food issues. Ugh.

There are just so many levels of ugh to that that it's hard to know where to start. Rebecca Traister took a shot at it here.

Our food environment is so *&%&ed up that thin women feel like they have to eat slabs of beef to prove that they "have no food issues." If you want to order a steak (or whatever) than do so. But to feel that public displays of healthy eating are bound to get you labeled neurotic is just really, really sad.

When I choose to pay my credit card bill on time, I am not being neurotic. I do not have "money issues." I just don't like paying interest to credit card companies. When I make healthy food choices, it's because I don't want to pay the price out of my long term ill health for unhealthy choices.

Ugh. Double and triple ugh.

I never even liked steak in the first place. I guess it's a miracle I found a man.

Here is my favorite response, which was actually a response to Traister's article:

So as to appear other than dainty, I always order...
...a bowl of living, twining, toothy weasels. Then I have at them and they have at me. Sure, women scream and men faint, but it's impressive. Unfortunately, I only get second dates with survivalists.

But seriously, I don't get why anyone would be that calculating on a date. Do they intend to sustain that magnitude of calculation? If so, they'll be haggard by 45.

I advise, "Don't worry. Be happy."

Sounds a lot like the eat a toad first thing every morning because nothing worse will happen to you all day wisdom. Impractical, but clever in its own way.

And yes, I am one of those women who thinks that men eating salads are sexy. My old friend Fifi and I used to say that if we ever saw a man loading up a huge plate of greens and veggies at a salad bar, we'd fight each other for his number.

And sure enough, I wound up with a man who eats salads bigger than most people's entire dinner... for breakfast!

Posted by april at 8:43 AM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 7, 2007

Never Knew We Could Be So Strong

It was just a few months ago, in the heat of my second to last campaign, after one of my nurse leaders got fired and his reputation dragged through the mud, that I emailed my old friend Sam-I-Am (no, that's not her name! It's the name she used in her comment on my "How To Save A Life" post. You can read it here.) and said that I was listening to "Morning Glow" from the Pippin soundtrack.

Morning glow, morning glow
Starts to glimmer when you know
Winds of change are set to blow
And sweep this whole land through
Morning glow is long past due

It took every ounce of strength I had to make it through that campaign, and to do what it took to lead those nurses to victory. And yes, we won.

Sam and I had been out of touch for awhile. I totally understood her decision not to see me once she found out about CR... after all, anorexia had nearly killed her, and on the surface of it, CR can look a lot like anorexia. Especially if you've never seen a real live CR practitioner, but only read the media accounts.

Sam was my closest friend in high school. We stood by each other through horrors that no child should have to endure. She taught me that sometimes, your best friend is the person you tried to kill the day before. That you can fight, you can scream and cry, you can be who you really are, and at the end of the day, there is someone who loves you.

Sam taught me how to love somebody else, and how to accept somebody's love.

Sure, we fought. A lot. There was the time I thought I was going to do her a big favor by washing her towels on a Sunday morning, and she was mad cause she wanted to shower and her towels were in the dryer. Or the time she wouldn't stop playing the Beatles "All You Need Is Love." I blame her for my lifelong hatred of the Beatles. That's all seemingly trivial stuff, but we were working out our identities as teenaged girls, trying to find our independence while realizing that we needed each other just to survive. And hating the fact that we needed each other, and wanting to be free, but being so bound up together for our very survival that we had to work it out.

When my boyfriend dumped me, she went with me to the other side of the lake and we went swinging on the swings and we sang songs from Chess and Pippin and Les Miserables until I felt okay again.

And there was the time I threw my geometry book at her. But she really was being obnoxious that day. :)

When I got really, really sick in Vermont, she was the person I turned to.

When she got sick, I tried to be there, but I wasn't always strong enough. Her husband was there. Wow, he earned my admiration. On their wedding day I just kept thinking, "Thank you so much for being there." He stood right by her. I've never felt so good about a wedding as I did about theirs. That was seven years ago.

We'll be present at the birth
Of old faith looking new.

When she got sick and was in the hospital, I didn't visit her. I was busy with my life, but more than anything, I was scared. I was scared of the pain, scared of the hospital, scared that my friend would die, scared that I would be powerless to stop it all.

I called. I wrote. I wanted to do what I could. But I was so scared. So terrified, so desperately afraid.

I was doing all I could to save myself. My little Kay was still calling me (I was at Yale but she was still at Interlochen) and asking what to do if one of her friends had cut herself so bad she couldn't stop the bleeding.

Morning glow is long past due.

Sam made it out. She fought through years of treatment, and she made a life for herself in which she spends most of her time taking care of others. I am so proud of her. She didn't have to dedicate herself to helping other people, and heaven knows she could have made more money elsewhere. But she did, and I know the people she's helped are grateful for the change she's made in their lives.

When I started CR, I was at the end of my rope. I was not healthy at all, and I was lonely and scared and starting to see my life slipping away. Somehow a voice called me out of the darkness, and I learned to save myself.

My friends were supportive. My now best friend, in fact, was the best. He made it clear that he wanted me to be happy, no matter what.

Of course there were naysayers. Somebody spread rumors that I was anorexic. Some people didn't like my new thinner body.

But those who really loved me were right there. My parents, my grandparents, my best friends, and eventually my angel MR. I know how lucky and blessed I am to have such support in my life. Sometimes I feel guilty when I screw up at all, since I have such a wonderful support system that you'd think I'd never have a bad day.

But Sam decided that she needed to cut off communication with me for awhile. I understood, of course. She was at a point in her recovery where talking about CR just wasn't going to be cool. And you can't meet me or MR without talking at least a little about CR. I mean, that's how we met. I met the love of my life, my partner, the man with whom I own a house and who feeds my cats and whom I wake up next to every morning through CR. It's there. It's a part of our life, our story.

Sam wasn't in a good place to deal with that. I understood, but I was sad, and I was angry too. I felt rejected. It didn't seem fair. But I still understood.

I made other close friends. My darling MR, who has been my rock through a time of tremendous transition and stress. My best friend in the world, who's stood by me through everything from the grand tragedies to the everyday stress. Susie and Lisa, my organizers, my tiny goddesses who inspire me every day with their dedication and hard work. Allswellinhell/Ashley goddess, my Jedi writer warrior who pulled me out of depression when Rebecca Traister and Julian Dibbell and all the other journalists who trashed us got me so far down I didn't know how to get myself out. Robin, my role model, the girl who says I set an example for her. Z-mu, so far away, fighting with all her strength across the oceans to send me positive energy when I needed it most. You know who you are, all of you. Perhaps my one magic power is the ability to draw to me people who will give me so much energy and love... I can only hope that I will love you in return and help you reach your own God-given potential and exercise your True Will.

But there's been a big old hole in my heart since Sam and I have been out of touch. I never had a sister, but she was like one to me. I understood, of course. But I was never happy with a vision of a future where she wasn't a part of my life.

Then she got pregnant with a baby girl, and she invited me to the shower but I couldn't go because I was coordinating the Mprize meeting.

Then the baby was born, and I haven't seen her yet.

But I will soon.

Sam will be relieved that I'm not all that skinny, I'm the same crazy happy loving goofy energetic but has to crash by ten pm girl I always was. I haven't changed much. A few battle scars on my face now, to be sure. But I'm just about the same as I always was. My mother says I'm the most consistent person she's ever met.

It wasn't until just a few days ago that I started to let go of the guilt I felt for watching my friends descend into the hellish depths of anorexia. I didn't go with them. I've been thin, I've been overweight, but something inside me wouldn't let me go down that anorexic path. I don't know what it is, and I'm sure I'm not worthy of it. If I could have traded my health for my friends' at some point, I suspect I would have tried. But I couldn't. So I ran away from the pain. I started this life that is so far from all of that. I wasn't always there for them. I was sometimes too weak, too scared, too terrified to be there when they needed me.

But I'm older now, and stronger.

In a few weeks I am going to visit my grandparents. My grandmother has been practically imprisioned with my grandfather, who won't eat, stares at the walls, but gets very scared when she leaves. My beautiful grandmother, who is still stunning at ninety something (she won't tell us her age!!!) hasn't left the house for more than three hours in a row in seven months. They used to travel the world, but now he just wants to sit at home. He says he wants to die. She doesn't want to let him go. And who can blame her? They've been married for seventy years! I imagine MR saying he wanted to die, and I'd say, "Oh no you don't you orange idiot freak boy! Live on! You're not going without me!"

She wants to live, but he doesn't. And he's stopped eating. The doctors can't find anything wrong with him, but he's definitely very sick.

And my step-mother and father and many other family members have been wonderful but I have only been down for Thanksgiving and Christmas.

I am going down to spend a weekend with them in three weeks. Just with them. I will finally be there for my grandmother. I am old enough, strong enough now, to face the pain.

"It's a matter of facing the pain," said Great Uncle Cuthbert in the Starbridge series that my dad and I and my sister L across the pond love so much.

My grandfather may die soon, but my grandmother doesn't have to. For once, I'm going to be there for her.

Sam and I are finally going to see each other after years, and I am going to meet her baby girl.

I never knew we could be so strong.

But it's not one of us, it's all of us together, pooling our strength and amplifying it with love, to form a greater whole than the sum of the parts.

I experienced that in my last two campaigns. I couldn't have done it without Bill, Jon, Rachel, Lisa, Lorraine, Jess, Mark, Larry, and all the old organizers of the past who pitched in, even with just a phone call, to make sure we made it.

And we won.

Morning glow
By your light
We will make the new day bright
And the phantoms of the night
Will fade into the past

Morning glow is here at last.

Posted by april at 5:43 PM | Comments (4) | TrackBack

August 6, 2007

Vacation Is Over

Okay, I've eaten enough. My parents came to town, we ate out and ate *a lot*, my weight is higher than it's been in three years (though some of that is muscle weight, some of it is not!) and I'm both done with the campaigns and done with my vacation.

Well, one is never really done with the campaigns, since a contract campaign follows the organizing campaign, but the contract campaign is less stressful for me than the organizing phase, and my hours will always be crazy but not quite as crazy... for a little while... I think.

Anyhow, back to careful tracking, done with vaca.

I actually find it easier to calculate my nutrition at the beginning of the day, rather than at the end when it's usually too late to do anything much about it. That way I actually make a plan. This is extreme quotidian, with a little wiggle room left in for anything else I might want to eat over the course of the day. And I forgot to put in my salsa. Ooops.

This is:

breakfast:
cup of cottage cheese with hot sauce and flax oil

lunch:
quotidian salad (kale, napa, tomato, green pepper) cup of nonfat plain organic yogurt, almonds, salsa (which I forgot to enter)

snacks:
dried blueberries almonds

dinner:
brewers yeast soup with broccoli and cauliflower
another cup of cottage cheese
flax oil
red wine

wiggle room can include: another cup of yougurt, more nuts, some Quorn, something else.

No M&Ms.

Calories look low because I've allowed some wiggle room and I'm going back to 1200 since I've eaten out way too much lately and actually want to take off some weight. Having been weight stable for so long, it's weird to be up so much. Time to get back to serious CR.

Here's the crunch:

Nutrition Summary for August 6, 2007
General (66%)
Energy 1117.8 kcal 56%
Protein 83.9 g 168%
Carbs 113.6 g 38%
Fiber 23.0 g 92%
Fat 29.8 g 46%
Vitamins (90%)
Vitamin A 22072.2 IU 736%
Folate 483.0 µg 121%
B1 (Thiamine) 2.0 mg 167%
B2 (Riboflavin) 3.7 mg 284%
B3 (Niacin) 17.2 mg 108%
B5 (Pantothenic Acid) 6.6 mg 132%
B6 (Pyridoxine) 2.5 mg 147%
B12 (Cyanocobalamin) 4.1 µg 172%
Vitamin C 443.1 mg 492%
Vitamin D 0.0 IU 0%
Vitamin E 12.3 mg 82%
Vitamin K 893.8 µg 745%
Minerals (91%)
Calcium 1354.3 mg 113%
Copper 2.2 mg 246%
Iron 9.7 mg 121%
Magnesium 359.7 mg 86%
Manganese 3.4 mg 149%
Phosphorus 1376.5 mg 197%
Potassium 4221.3 mg 90%
Selenium 106.5 µg 194%
Sodium 419.7 mg 32%
Zinc 13.2 mg 120%

Could use a bit more E, magnesium, and potassium, but not bad.

There. Back to functioning. Back to work.

Back to kale.

Posted by april at 4:56 AM | Comments (0) | TrackBack

August 5, 2007

How To Save A Life

My favorite Big Cat Rescue video is the one of the tigers, Trucha, Bella, Modnic and TJ, being rescued from a backyard breeder who went out of business, on the very day when they had been scheduled to be put to death. They go to Big Cat Rescue and get to live in a beautiful cat-a-tat with a pool. Nice. The background music is "How to Save A Life" by the Frey.

It was the song I had in my head when I wrote my entry called "I Lost a Friend." That's a line from the song.

Today, Emi wrote about her friend Tracy .

Yikes, she is brave. Have I mentioned that I just adore this girl?

Well, she's inspired me to write about the friends who saved my life, albeit unintentionally.

I went to a performing arts high school, Interlochen Arts Academy. It was a haven for the gifted, the genius kids, the crazy, the abuse survivors (if you could call us survivors at that age... some of us didn't survive in the end) and the just plain messed up.

Dancers were graded down on their report cards if they gained weight. I remember this girl who had 4 percent body fat. She was the queen of the dancers. She was skinnier than MR. She didn't get that way by using DWIDP to monitor her nutrition.

It was the low fat eighties, and we used to eat bagels cause they had no fat. Marya Hornbacher was with us then... she gave me her old jeans when she was too skinny to wear them anymore. Marya was so brilliant, so much fun, so witty. Such a good writer.

My best friend from those days turned out to be seriously anorexic. She went through hospitalizations that were like prison camps. Her now husband, the father of her daughter, was there. He stood by her through the worst, and now he will be rewarded with a lifetime of having her as his wife. I was a bridesmaid in their wedding, and I cried through the whole darned thing cause I was just so grateful to have her alive and healthy and happy. I cried more at her wedding than I cried on her graduation day when I just couldn't process the fact that she'd be leaving and I'd be alone at Interlochen for a year without her... she was a year older than I (still is, to be exact) and so she graduated a year before me.

The next year, I signed up for the "Big Sibling" program, where you get a new student as your little sister or brother, and you mentor him or her. My little sister, let's call her Kay, was a freshman from Illinois.

Even at fourteen, she was so beautiful. Bright flaming red hair, extremely tall, so skinny. Dancer, actress. Model. I immediately loved her. I took the task of taking care of her very seriously.

She had survived many things. More things than anyone should live through, especially more than a child of fourteen should have seen.

She was anorexic, and she threw up. Both intentionally and because like a lot of folks who haven't eaten in awhile, she just couldn't keep food down. I used to hold her hair while she threw up. Her beautiful red long hair. I used to hold her hair back so it wouldn't get dirty when she couldn't stop throwing up.

I loved her so much, like she was my own sister. The sister I never had. I realized, there in the bathroom of my high school dorm room, that the disease that was torturing her was evil, wrong, deadly. I could see that she deserved love and nutrition and food and to live. And in realizing that she deserved that, I could see that I deserved the same.

I had flirted with anorexia like all the girls at my school did, but never gone far down that path. Holding on to little Kay, I knew that I had to save myself. I had to, there was no choice. Just like thirty some years ago, my mother realized that she had to be healthy to take care of me.

Kay saved my life. Seeing her be sick, and feeling powerless to help her, scared me so much that I never went down that path. I had some crazy days, and heaven knows that I have used up some of my nine lives. But anorexia never got the chance to eat me alive the way it ate so many of my good friends.

There are so many friends I couldn't help. So many. Even my best friend from earlier, who decided after I started CR that she couldn't see me. I will see her again soon, I think. I hope she can accept me as I am now: happy, healthy, but yes, calorie-restricted. I hope so.

So many girls from Interlochen didn't make it. It's better now... an amazing woman took over the dance department and reformed the evil ways. The theatre teacher who nearly killed us all was replaced by a wonderful man who stood by me through some of my worst moments, so many years ago. Things are better now.

But Marya, and so many others, were so harmed in the process.

That's how I know so many anorexics. Oh, and I went to an Ivy League school, which is a breeding ground for anorexia, though not nearly as bad I hear as the women's colleges.

Rebecca Traister would love this... my freshman year in college I read Susan Faludi's Backlash and firmly turned away from anorexia for all time.

I am one of the lucky ones. But don't think that I don't take anorexia seriously. I know what it does to people because I lost a friend. And many of my friends lost years of their lives.

I think that's why I'm so outraged by people who know absolutely nothing comparing CR to anorexia.

When I read Marya's book, I cried for days. I felt guilty that I had survived, while others did not. Why couldn't I help them?

Because I was a child, and people dealing with anorexia need the help of trained professionals with years of experience in fighting this evil disease. It didn't make any sense to blame myself... there was nothing I could have done. For all of us who survived, we have to realize that those who did not would not want us to live with guilt and fear forever. The best monument we can built to their too short lives is to live well ourselves. We owe that to them. We have to take care of ourselves. We can't bring them back, but we can save ourselves. When we build healthy lives for ourselves, we are putting beautiful flowers on the graves of those who didn't make it. That's what they would have wanted. I know they're cheering for us... somewhere up there.

When I was at Interlochen, my political conciousness cemented itself. I remember sitting in my freshman year dorm room listening to Sting's "We Work the Black Seam." I stared out the window into the snow covered landscape and thought, "I will do something with my life that will do something, anything, to address this horrible inequality in the world." I didn't know what a union was, but the union organizer I was to become was definitely born in those days. Kay and I used to walk around campus imagining our grown up lives.

I have the life I dreamed of. Every time I watch nurses win a voice on the job, I remember that little girl walking around the snow covered Interlochen campus, listening to Sting on an ancient tape on my walkman, dreaming about being a grown up freedom fighter.

We matter more than pounds and pence
Your economic theory makes no sense.

I am so very blessed. And so very grateful.

I couldn't help a lot of my friends when I was a child, but I can help my nurses now. Sometimes I think this job is going to kill me, but when I remember walking around that high school campus just wishing I could do something, anything, to change the world a little bit, I know it's worth the sacrifice.

When I imagine the nurses who saved the life of the person I love most in the world years ago when he could have died in a car accident, I know I'm doing the right thing.

Last night I was talking to a PACU (that's recovery room, in nurse talk) nurse from Scranton, who I will admit is one of my favorites (yes, I have favorites! I know, I am going to hell.) I thought about how after my mom had her surgery and had lost way too much blood, the PACU nurses took care of her and made sure she made it through.

And the nurse who took care of me in Vermont. Jessica. I'll never forget her.

I go back to work tomorrow after a week off, and it's going to be stressful. But I'm looking foward to it. I can't go very long without my best friends, and they're all my co-workers. I tried to leave my job once, and I was a miserable failure at leaving. Organizing is my life, my love, my passion and the most annoying thing on earth. Nothing could make me more miserable or happier.

Also from "We Work the Black Seam": (concert version)

This way of life is part of me
There is no price so holy
Let me be.

It's been a long hard road, and it continues to be long and difficult. Don't be fooled by the happy recipe talk: I fight every day to be happy and healthy, and not to fall into the depression and anxiety that consumed many of my family members and friends. But I fight and win. I make myself meditate, work out, eat right, reach out for help when I need it. I am so blessed to be loved by some of the most amazing people I can imagine, who've been with me through horrors untold. It is not always easy, but we've come this far by faith, love and kale. As Billy Joel says in my favorite Billy Joel song of all time, "She's Right On Time,"

Still I will choose to live in the complicated world that we've shared for so long
Good or bad, right or wrong.

Post script: to anyone out there who thinks you might be suffering with an eating disorder, please seek help! There's good help out there, and no one should have to suffer alone. Everyone I know who got better did so because they found help. Please find someone who can work with you to get better.

Posted by april at 5:28 PM | Comments (3) | TrackBack

And We're Happy...

A series of exciting entries have been posted lately on the differences between CR and anorexia. Emi's and Mizzi's were both awesome.

Another difference that may seem obvious to those who actually know both CR practitioners and anorexics in real life (as opposed to in media caricatures of either) is that CR practitioners, by and large, are happy people.

I mean, we're not always freaking out with joy and singing the Barney song. We have just as many trials, tribulations, and problems as anyone. But we're not in the grip of a disease that controls our thoughts and actions. The anorexics I've known have expressed a feeling of being at war with themselves, and often of feeling the anorexia as an outside force that imposes its will on them, causing them not to eat, or angrily chastising them if they did succumb to temptation and eat. Some even drew pictures of their mental image of anorexia. One of my good friends drew the most amazing picture of herself chained to a mirror. Inside the mirror was a beautiful, happy world, but she couldn't get to it because of her chains. I suspect that that picture said more about anorexia than all the stupid pop psychology crap out there ever could.

The anorexics I have known look back on a time before they were stricken with the disease, and they miss that time. They describe pre-anorexia as a happier, more carefree time. They would like to return to it, but often don't know how. Several, with treatment and some with hospitalization have found a way to live again. Some are extremely successful and have even used their experiences to help others. Others are not as fortunate.

I want to make it clear that I do not attempt to speak for anorexics, or even believe that anyone could. There's no monolithic description that would fit any group of people, from anorexics to CR practitioners to Red Sox fans. There's a lot of variety. But when comparisons are drawn between CR and anorexia, it's hard for me to not compare my experiences with folks of either sort, and note that they just aren't very similar.

The CR practitioners I've known have been much more at peace with both their bodies and their lives in general than most other people I know. Sure, horrible things happen. My CR friends have recently dealt with illnesses and deaths of parents, loss of jobs, and other challenging events. But the basic default outlook on the world is that things are pretty good. Life is interesting and fun, and when presented with a challenge, the approach is to find out what to do and do something about it. We tend to be an engineering, tinkering kind of bunch, and certainly a bit odd, by "normal" people standards. But we're cheerful.

When someone is in the grip of a disease, it's hard to focus on much else. Some of the anorexics I've known have been incredibly functional, just like some of the alcoholics I've known have been incredibly functional. But there's an overriding compulsion that effects the sufferer's actions in ways that she or he, if asked, says he or she does not like. Less cheerful.

CR practitioners are not like that. The food part of life is important, but once a routine has been developped, it's just another part of life, just like work, school, cleaning the house, or shopping for shoes that look like the ones the Labor Board agent was wearing at my last vote (candy apple red, five inch patent leather platforms with ankle straps.) There's no compulsion about it. We make your decisions about what's healthiest to eat and what fits into our goals and priorities, then we just do it. Sure, it takes self-discipline. Sometimes it takes a lot of that. But that's quite different from a compulsion: if anything, it is the opposite of a compulsion. Conscious decisions, made in sound mind, to create sound body. Weird, I know, but not a disease. Much like someone who takes their tennis game seriously, we spend some time on it, and we sometimes spend time learning how to do it better, whether that be reading nutrition information, cooking, or reading medical studies. We care about it. But when we think about it, we think things like, "Neat! A new study! A new way to cook brussels sprouts! A free DEXA scan!" Not, "I hate myself I am horrible I ate food ugh ugh ugh ugh."

Kelly Brownell says something, and I can't find the quote, but it goes something like: if you're wondering if you have an eating disorder, you should ask yourself, "Would my life be better/would I be happier if I didn't feel this way? If I weren't this way?"

When you ask an anorexic this question, she or he will usually say yes.

When you ask a CR practitioner this question, he or she will usually say, "Are you **(&ing serious? No ^*(&ing way!"

I do not mean to imply that CR practitioners swear a lot. Just that the answer would be an emphatic no.

Most of us look back on our pre-CR life with a sense of mild sorrow that we wasted so much time before discovering CR. We just feel so much better now. Whether it's those who battled weight problems before, or just those who used to get a cold once a year and now never get sick, or those who, as Mizzi points out, experience a relief from anxiety when on CR, we all seem to feel better now than we did pre-CR. We watch the people around us age, and yet we don't seem to be looking much older. It's creepy at CR conferences how everyone looks exactly the same as they did at the conference two years earlier. One of the organizers of the conference, and I will admit that I've always had a big crush on him, is in his fifties and looks like he's at most 40. He's been doing CR for years, is weight stable, is an incredibly successful researcher and professor at a university, has two lovely children, and loaned me a sweater at a restaurant when I was cold. Oh he is so cute. Anyhow, he says he'd never go back. He doesn't seem to age. The men his age are starting to look truly awful, and he continues to look and feel fabulous.

I think it's important to look at long term CR practitioners, and see how they are doing, what they think, how they live. A lot of people start CR but either can't or choose not to sustain the practice. I can totally sympathize with this... I've had a hard few months during which I really let my CR slip, and I know as well as anyone how difficult it can be to maintain this lifestyle in the "real" world, full of gak and social eating and stress and people who wag french fries in front of your nose. I am not trying to cast aspersions on those who start but take a break, or start but decide it's not right for them. But I do think it's more instructive to study those who've done it longer, and have worked it into their lifestyle on a permanent basis. Most of these folks:

-- are weight stable
-- get their bloodtests done and visit their doctor at least once a year
-- are pretty happy, most of the time
-- express satisfaction with their bodies
-- eat fairly consistently, neither binge nor purge
-- like cats.

Actually, I made up the part about liking cats. That seems to run just about the same as the rest of the population. I happen to like cats a great deal.

If you've actually known both CR practitioners and anorexics, you're unlikely to see much similarity between the two. And I'm talking about real anorexics, not the people who beat themselves up because they've gained a few pounds and can't figure out how to lose it. Difficulty maintaining a healthy weight in an insanely unhealthy food environment is not an eating disorder, but that's a topic for another day. One of the many things I think is so awesome about Emi's contributions to the CR blogosphere is that as a real recovering anorexic, she shows folks in a calm, rational way what it's really like to suffer from that disease. Of course her experience is not universal, but the way she describes her true struggles to eat -- and she wants to recover -- helps people who've never known anorexics understand that it's not about having self-discipline and choosing not to eat, it's about feeling compelled not to eat. It's horrible. It destroys lives. It's a fight to get back to eating, and we get to cheer for her as she fights with grace and courage to get her health back.

A really cool commenter wrote in awhile back that it's no wonder both the ED community and the CR community are outraged by comparisons of the two. She said that an ED is not a choice. CR is a choice. She was awesome... she needs her own blog. If you're out there, write more! It was because of her that I took the link to Liza May's CR vs. anorexia piece out of my FAQ.

People seem to want to label something as a disorder if it doesn't agree with their own values or practices. If I were to do that, I would label all Red Sox fans as having a baseball disorder. And the same for Yankees fans. I can't imagine why one would spend time on watching a sport, but that's a difference in taste, not evidence of a psychological problem on any of our parts. MR can't imagine why I want to spend money and calories on wine: he'd rather have more broccoli. But he doesn't have a drinking disorder. He just doesn't care for it.

Having spent considerable time both as a serious CR practitioner and not, I can honestly say that I am happier when I am on serious CR. I'm sure that I could get to a calorie level so low that it would start to make me less happy, but if I got there, I'd eat more. I refuse to set arbitrary calorie or weight goals, and I don't worship numbers. MR would say I should spend more time worshiping the 100%s on COM and 30-40-30 (that's protein, carb, fat, not bust-waist-hips) but we can argue about that some other day. I think it's much more important to strive for one's own personal best than to get fixated on a number that is probably meaningless. Phantom calorie reports from people who don't weigh and measure or random weight goals that have nothing to do with one's own body type or activity level are not helpful for setting up a healthy CR program. Cron-O-Meter, a good food scale, and PubMed are much more useful tools.

Those who have suffered from anorexia and are now exploring CR add so much to the discussion. I am always so happy to read about how learning about nutrition and thinking of food as nutrients is helping Emi eat what she needs and get her health back. CR would definitely not be appropriate for all recovering anorexics, or for all of anyone (though I do rather wish that all men would practice CR so that the world would be populated with skinny guys. Or at least all men I come into contact with and have to look at. There's nothing sexier, IMO, than a really skinny man in a Brooks Brothers suit. Or green Army surplus pants and Canadian army dress boots. Or a utili-kilt.) But for those who can responsibily incorporate the principles of ON into their diets as they're struggling to learn how to eat again, I think it's got to be at least as healthy as the traditional "force feed them milkshakes" approach to treating anorexia. If someone finds she can more easily get herself to eat broccoli, eggwhites, almonds and kale, while she has trouble choking down milkshakes, shouldn't we rejoice with her and see if we can get her to try brussels sprouts too? Taking back control, away from the disease, and learning to embrace food as nutrients that the body deserves, is just awesome. I love Emi's blog... and I understand why she doesn't like Hello Kitty. I don't claim that she has a Hello Kitty disorder because she doesn't feel compelled to buy all the Hello Kitty crap she can afford like I do. She just has tastes that differ from mine.

I think that people are going to get the idea that Emi is my favorite of the CR bloggers. Okay, I'll admit it. She is my favorite. But others are also my favorites, just for different reasons! Robin is my favorite because she's my role model, she's such an icon of health, both mental and physical, and she's such a great writer. And she always has my back in a fight. (Does that make me Batman? hmmmm...) Sara is my favorite because she loves good food and good wine and has the same social struggles that I do (though lucky for me, I don't have these struggles with my partner, just my friends) and I think she's the one I identify with most. I love Mizzi's blog because her life is so fascinating, so different from the rest of us, and she's so reflective and thoughtful. Deborah is always a good example of a real live grown up mom eating right and staying young and gorgeous by eating healthy. I miss the blogs of the past: Hazel, Liz, etc. I hope Carolyn and Chris come back. I follow with interest and concern Amy's struggles to eat right in the midst of motherhood, pregnancy, and job stress. I missed Christina and Miss M when they went private, and I'm glad to see Christina resurface. I loved Miss M's scientific chef perspective on CR... I get the feeling she knows a lot more than I do, and her food always sounds delicious. Arturo and YC are always fun for the yoga perspective. So many more I love and read almost every day. But okay, Emi is the one I check constantly for a) new pictures of the kitten b) her brilliant perspective on everything. She is so different, so smart, so straightforward and rational, even about the irrational things in life.

Well, enough of a blogger lovefest.

I'm sure I'm going to get a host of angry comments ranging from:

a) you're all in denial, you're really miserable and you just don't know it

b) how dare you say anything about anorexia, you're neither a specialist nor a sufferer

c) you're just as bad as the fashion industry, encouraging men to starve themselves to fit your ideal of beauty, which is impossible for most men to attain, and might cause the economy to grind to a screeching halt as men abandon their jobs, their children, and sports on TV to spend hours a day weighing and chopping vegetables in pursuit of a giraffe-like physique.

Let me go ahead and answer them:

a) is just stupid. If we think we're happy, we are. I can see how a lot of folks think that restricting their food intake would make them unhappy, and perhaps it would. I do not encourage them to try it if they would prefer not to. We're not trying to recruit (she says for the gazillionth time.) But for us, we actually are happier now than we were before. We adapt our CR style to fit what makes us happy, and that varies a ton from one CR practitioner to another. Some have increased their calories if they feel like they've gone too low for whatever reason. Some change their macronutrient ratios, or their eating times, or try EOD fasting, or whatever. But they do what works for them. Don't impose your vision of what makes you happy onto us. You don't know us. You might like us if you did, but you don't.

b) is fair, but considering that everyone from Rebecca Traister to Kate Taylor to random recent Yale grads to nasty commenters who don't even give their names feels competent to comment on the supposed mental health of CR practitioners, I figure I can say a few things too.

c) is totally fair. However, the male population shows no signs of adopting my standard of beauty. I am just lucky that I found and acquired the white tiger of males: a naturally skinny boy who practices hardcore CR.

White tigers, btw, are a genetic anomoly that should not be bred in captivity. In fact, no tigers should be bred: there are enough tigers in captivity. We should focus on preserving the habitat of wild tigers so that tigers can live where they belong: in the wild. There are many unwanted and abandoned big cats who either live in horrible conditions or get put to death. They can't function in the wild because they never learned how to hunt, etc. I learned all this from Big Cat Rescue.

There's plenty of habitat for skinny guys, though a distinct lack of clothing that fits.

It's been awhile since I've felt up to wading into a controversial topic. The nasty comments really bother me, and when I have to deal with a ton of stress at work and personal sadness and such, I just don't want to deal with any more negative energy. But I don't want to censor myself forever. It's