Eat, Bake, Nourish

So, I've been struggling with my eating for a long time now.  It's had terrible consequences for my weight, but now it's also having some consequences for my workouts.  I noticed that days after a strength workout, I was still sore and still exhausted.  I expect exhaustion during and just after a

workout.  (It's not at all uncommon for me to sit in my car for several minutes before I feel like I can safely drive.  That's the level of exhaustion we're talking about here.)  But, workouts are supposed to lead to increased energy, and being tapped out for days felt like something was off.

So, I had three theories.

The first was my favorite.  I thought perhaps I was working out too hard for my current fitness level.  Two birds with one stone.  If I could convince my trainer to pull back I'd have easier workouts AND I'd feel better.  I was fond of this theory.

The second theory didn't feel right, but was a possibility.  Maybe I wasn't sleeping enough, or well enough to support my workouts.  I have been sleeping a lot, but often the dog and cats interrupt my sleep in the night. Maybe I was literally too tired to work out at full capacity.

Or, third - and I hated this one- maybe I wasn't adequately fueling my workouts.  Maybe up until now, I could fake it because my fitness level was so dismal.  But as I get stronger and more fit, I need actual fuel - actual food.

I ran these theories past my trainer, but also past some physiologists on campus.  They rejected #1 out of hand.  They considered #2, but ultimately felt like I was getting enough rest, even it it wasn't perfect, blissful sleep.  They landed solidly on #3.  Darn it.

Here's what I've done so far - and it's helping, I think.  Three days a week, I drop Finnegan off at either daycare or his job.  On the way back to campus, that's when I usually realize that I am suddenly quite hungry.  Enter the drive-through, and the start of all my problems.  But I also pass this "wellness bar" place, where they make a variety of low-calorie meal replacement protein shakes.  On those three mornings, I have replaced the drive-through with this drink.  Almost immediately, I lost some weight AND I have been feeling much better.  Crazily better. 


That's it.  That's as far as I've gotten.  I just wanted to mention it, in case anyone is wondering if it works.  It works and it works fast, apparently.

Next up, I will add oatmeal on the other two work-days.  I can eat that at my desk or I can get it at Starbuck's drive-through.  It doesn't matter.  At least it will be healthy, and it's likely to keep me from eating a huge and inappropriate lunch.

It's not much, but it's a start.

My Soul is Tired

I feel depleted of energy all the time.  I feel like I'm swimming through molasses.  And yes, I do see that these are signs and signals of clinical depression, but that doesn't ring true as an explanation - for me, at this particular moment.  You do you.  Seriously.  But I did realize that something else had to be in play when taking vacation days and mostly sleeping through them did not help anything.  I didn't end up feeling refreshed; I still just woke up heaving a sigh of exhaustion and resignation.

I think my soul is tired.  I can't yet speak publicly of all the reasons that might be true.  I can, though, say that pretty much every area of my life (not all, but most) leaves me with a sense of not being true to my best self.  If one area is out of whack in a life, we can mostly cope.  When most things are out of alignment, that is soul-damaging.  It is time, and past time, to take action.

And yet, this situation is considerably bigger than my personal challenges.  Those are legion, right enough.  But this effort I'm making, to have a big shiny life, is also happening in the context of a world gone mad.  Or mostly, the United States has gone mad.  Personally and in the culture, I can no longer plug the holes in the dike.  I am officially out of fingers.

Moreover, I have UTTERLY lost patience with the platitude industrial complex.  Please, for the love of all things holy, stop slinging pinterest-worthy memes about wildflowers coming back in the spring at me.  I might just lose it.  Susan Sontag calls it "the free-hanging laziness of aphorism."  Lord, I wish I could turn a phrase like that, but that's another post.

I don't, in fact, know what to do about this situation, but I'm leaning in the direction of "witness," by which I mean standing-with, standing-by, standing-for.  Sometimes that means sitting in silence with a friend or family member wracked by grief.  Sometimes that means standing up, as in "no, you may NOT bring that vitriol into my space."  Sometimes it might mean standing with and for, as in "if you even nod toward voting for that bill, Mr. Representative, I will make it my life's work to get the most progressive person I can find elected into your seat this spring."  And in my personal life, it might mean standing up quite literally.  Get up.  Move.  The cure for exhaustion might be action, in this case.  Don't look away from your problems.  Witness.  Challenge. 

And get the hell out of this chair.....

Confident Creativity

My life is full and past full, and - lest anyone worry- all the categories of activities are great.  Seriously, there is an embarrassment of riches when it comes to the opportunities that have come to me.  In fact, managing them all has become more of a problem than seems plausible.

Here's what is happening.  I work on my regular research development job.  I teach graduate students.  I have some ideas for expanding my (as yet minuscule) national presence in my career.   I have a personal trainer, and I am getting stronger.  And I take somewhat haphazard but enthusiastic care of my dog.  So, work, working out, and dog.  That's what I do.  And I can't even keep all of that organized and together, truth be told.

And yet, it feels like there is no creativity in this abundant life - and that feels like an empty space in my heart.  It used to be true that a large portion of my creativity was being used in my job.  That's no longer true.  Long story.  No resentment.  But true. I used to knit, sew, bake, write....  I used to create whole agencies and programs.  Most of that is gone, as well.

I had a disturbing but also fascinating chat the other day with the new-ish Dean of the Visual and Performing Arts.  We had never met before, and I half-fun and full-earnest identified myself as the least creative person on the planet.  He's a Director-turned-Dean, and directors are used to looking intently at a person and seeing, well, the resources they have to work with.  A little like the work a social worker does, and yet entirely unlike it as well.  In any event, he said no.... your creativity is ....here.... here.... and here....  And he was mostly right.

The Dean had known me for half an hour.  He didn't see me entirely clearly; he's not THAT good ;)  But he did give me the nudge to see things differently.  If, as Elizabeth Gilbert says, it's important to create beauty with every day that you are given, then I not only need to name creativity appropriately but to nurture it appropriately.   

This blog could be creativity.  Book club inspires a kind of creativity - and not just because I'm making things up because I didn't finish the book.  Remodeling my house and gardens is a kind of creativity.  Non-blog writing is a kind of creativity, even though it is emphatically non-fiction that I am creating.  These are all things that move me toward the life I want, but also ARE the life I want.  (The process and the outcome are the same.  Does that make sense?)  

What's a little uncomfortable is that there might not be room for the activities that used to be my creative outlets.  I love to knit.  I flat-out love it.  In very many ways, it brought me here - and that's not hyperbole.  But maybe it's ok that it's on hiatus in my life.  I won't forget how to do it.  It will still be there should more time become available.

I wonder how I didn't notice that creative outlets can change over time.