Strong as the oceans.

I was talking with a friend about health and fitness and fat loss stuff. He said that after surveying a great number of colleagues, there were only three people who could come up with clients or friends (one person a piece) who had had fat loss, kept it off for more than a year, and didn’t obsess about food.

Three people who had long term fat loss without obsessing about food….among hundreds of people.

Even in a relatively localized, informal survey that number is staggering.

The nutrition major in me ran through all the implications and theories and “holy crap”ness of it all. But that was quickly silenced because my next thought was to make it about me.

I wanted to reply that I’ve lost more than a fair amount of weight and kept it off. But then I had to reconsider. What does “without obsessing about food” really mean?

I try to be mindful about food. I’ve certainly had moments that I’ve obsessed about it. I’ve tried a lot of things over the last eight years to see what works–to find a good fit. I’ve had many a time floundering in the abyss of disordered thinking that centers around food to the point of drowning in it. That’s certainly not “not obsessing about food”.

Still tho, I got to thinking that I want to be number four on that list. I’m at a new place right now where I already have the food thing figured out. There’s low need for obsessing. This aligns nicely with the refocus I’ve been practicing. Filling my days with all the things instead of all things food, and mindfully nourishing and honoring my body.

One day I would like to say that I lost fat, kept it off, and wasn’t obsessed with food. It feels really reasonable. I’ve done the first two. I still have more fat I could lose, but it’s not my focus; it’s just the potential natural side effect of my goals. I have a picture in my head of what “not obsessed” could look like and I plan to be there in six months’ time.

Not perfection. Not all black and white. Not 100% of the everything. Not unforgiving. Not finding a different thing to be obsessed about. Just a timeline and a picture.

*I can understand how this can seem a bit counterintuitive. Aren’t I technically obsessing over this by trying to *not* obsess over it? Is that worth the risk? Does it count? How can I even measure it?

The answer is this: If I don’t think to think about it, I’m not obsessed. That’s all I’m going for.


Replace the need with love.

I just spent some time laying on my left side. I haven’t been able to lay on my left side since late 2015 when I was pregnant. This is kind of a big deal.

I started my IT band stretching two weeks ago. I had intended on a solid twice a day, but “done over perfect” will have to suffice. I usually do them once a day. I was called a “fucking hero” for this once a day business, and, for whatever reason, this has spurred me to do them daily with less stompiness. Strangest thing what a correctly placed string of words can do.

A week ago I started doing one set of exercises while laying on my right side. Tonight I laid in bed on my left side for about 45 minutes. It was conscious effort. It was a bit like being upside down. And I’m not sure quite what my organs thought of gravity from that direction. I believe it is all for the good tho. Funny enough, my left shoulder is screaaaaming at me for laying on it. That’ll take some getting used to.

Also today my big toes both still hurt like crazy. Worst day yet. But I feel stronger and able and like I’m finally not squandering my body. I’m doing good.

All the days I lived awake.

I do my friends a strange disservice when I think back to yesterday’s post. I don’t regret the post, nor my thoughts about it. At the same time, I very much have people in my life who are amazing and inspiring and whom I love.

The thing is, it’s hard not seeing them. It’s hard when they are in a different season of life as I am. I’m the mom at home with her toddler (tho we’re almost always out), while one friend is the mom who volunteers at school. I’m the mom grocery shopping at 9am, while another friend teaches full-time. I’m the mom who is tied to the midwest, while another friend (or three) is tied to the south.

I have people in my life I can confide in. I have people I cherish deeply. What I lack is someone to have fun with. Someone I can just be chill with. Someone to keep me company. Someone *I* can keep company! I lack someone who wants to tag along for a trip to walmart or who wants to sit on my counter while I wash dishes. I lack someone who has a kid that L could hang with.  Someone who would trade babysitting services for “me time” and who I could return the favor for.

And there are some *really* great local women here. But as awesome as they are, I don’t feel like they’re *my* people. Mostly their season is as a new mom and I’m on my third with 14 years experience.

I lack someone to be low-key with and shoot the shit. I miss that part.

Bells and footfalls and soldiers and dolls.

I don’t have that *one* friend. The friend who I’m always there for and who is always there for me. The friend who I can bitch to for like five minutes and then she can promptly dismiss it and I can go back to being my regularly chipper self. And vice versa. And I want her to have a chipper self! I want her to know and live (like I do) truth and positivity.

But I don’t have that. And each day it wears on me.

Another demon that devours our time in Eden.

I am so lonely. Like embarrassingly lonely. I don’t know how to fix it. Because at this point I feel desperate for a friend. Desperate never looks good on anyone. And desperate isn’t really my norm. So, I feel entirely stuck. And striking up a new friendship with someone as we bond over my desperate loneliness? Well…..I don’t want that relationship to stagnate on lonely, and yet…evolving from that hole would be a miracle of epic proportions.

So. I remain stuck in the loneliness.

Always both.

I wanted today to be this fresh start kick start kinda deal. And it started out that way. But then eventually in my quest to not have so much protein, I ended up eating things I hadn’t intended to eat. And then I made (keto) chocolate chip cookies and I ate half of them even tho they sucked and….it was all very…I was consciously not in control. I could have stopped. But I couldn’t stop. Eventually I threw the rest away. This was half a batch of half a batch of cookies. I had like seven and they were tiny. I say this, not as a justification, but as a reminder that it wasn’t much damage. That I’ve come a long way. That I didn’t need to finish a binge. That I didn’t need to elongate it. That I didn’t need to end one just to start another a few minutes later. This is all growth I am proud of and want to take time to acknowledge.

I wanted those cookies to taste good. I kept taking another in hopes of the next being better than the last. They never were. They were just bad cookies. I would have been better off eating just the chocolate chips. But I learned by doing it this way. That part feels good.

And then I calculated my macros because accountability. And that felt honest and brave. And I told a friend right away. And I told my husband this evening. Because that’s how you have to do it with an eating disorder. Secrets make you sick.

And then tonight I was looking in the fridge for food and I didn’t really want a pickle, but it seemed like a safe choice. Or cream cheese. And my husband said “are you hungry or bored?” Because we can ask each other questions like that. And after a moment of thought I replied, “neither.” And I chose to not eat anything. That was a good decision.

And because of that question and that choice, my macros today are exact. So strange!


1659 calories 14 fiber 2.5 sugar alcohol

Today wasn’t the day I would have thought to ask for. But it was a good day.

And! I’ve been so productive with cleaning the basement. That feels beyond amazing! Sleep now.

Simon says: Seriously? You drank coffee at 6pm?

Simon also says, “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Oops. Heh.

Alright so I drank coffee. I had caffeine. It was late. It feels nice to feel clear for once though. No sleep fogs so much more than you realize. Caffeine is no substitute for sleep and I’ll sleep soon, but gosh this feels nice.

What feels nice too is that I’m really proud of my eating choices today! Yesterday left me feeling like I wasn’t quite living up to my best self. Mindfulness went by the wayside and it made me realize it wasn’t the first time. It was a slow ebbing of excusing old behavior.

I have been paying a lot of attention to hunger cues and trying to make sure I’m actually hungry before I eat a meal. But I started neglecting satiety cues and had begun eating more food after I finished what was on my plate. I don’t want to be doing that. I want to stay mindful.

I’m glad it happened though because it gave me the opportunity to nonjudgmentally bring myself back to my path. I self-corrected! And I did it without freaking out about it or sabotaging myself.


When I look back on these last 30 days I want to be proud of how far I’ve come. I want to have no regrets. I want to know that I was successful merely because I tried my best.

Saturday’s eating choices weren’t my best. I’m proud to say that today’s were.

I was talking to a friend this morning. My go-to for when I need a safe place to talk something out and then be able to just leave it there.

I was saying how I am having trouble with all the stops and starts of eating. Mostly the stops. I said to her that yesterday was not what I had wanted it to be. I said that in light of that,  I’m now being really vigilant and not eating once I finish eating what I originally take, but that I’m still a little stompy about it. Mostly because it’s frustrating that it’s so damn hard.

And it is. I would love to be able to do my Whole30 eating disorder free. The truth of the matter though is that I have an eating disorder and it goes where I go. That is today’s truth.

Today’s truth is also that that’s okay.


It’s alright. I can live with that. I can navigate it. It is doable. The eating disorder is not bigger than I am. I was stompy about it earlier, but it was just a natural part of grieving. I readjusted and now I’m better than ever.

I appreciate that yesterday granted me the opportunity to practice today.

Goodnight all of my successful readers. May each of you be given opportunities to practice as well.