Category: diet

Make Like a Tree

I doubt that Powers meant for his book to offer insight into weight control, but there is cause for reflection. I think scientists should get on this right away.

A trees mass does not come from cookies!

Baby Sis and I stared at the gyro platter, split for us to share while our sister-in-law examined an entire order. My sister and I could barely consume our respective halves. Our petite sister-in-law polished off hers.

My sister-in-law works out, walks, and is generally conscientious about her diet. Often, though, I am astounded at how much food people can consume. Physically, I would be unable to devour an entire gyro platter. In fact, I rarely eat an entire meal when we dine out, choosing to take half or more home, while my friends clean their plates.

Weight has always been an issue with me, although my younger pictures show a perfectly healthy attractive young woman. Gee. I wish I had known. Menopause deposited a belly to balance the hips and thighs. In spite of dieting and exercise, the weight built up.

I blamed my Teutonic genes, storing fat to protect against future famine. Years of dieting may have screwed up my metabolism. Joint surgeries slowed me down, limiting exercise. Then I discovered the source of my problem in The Overstory by Richard Powers: I am a tree.

In the book a young girl, reasoning that matter must come from matter, plants a sapling to learn how much weight of soil a tree consumes when growing. Many years later, when the tree is quite large, the girl weighs the soil and discovers that there is no loss. A tree produces mass from air and water!

I doubt that Powers meant for his book to offer insight into weight control, but there is cause for reflection. I think scientists should get on this right away. Meanwhile, I will try to limit my air and water.

BTW, The Overstory is a powerful book. Highly recommended.

Once a Year Gravy

One day. But a day that sets into motion a month of holiday merry-making and gluttony.

I could eat the gravy with a spoon!

Thanksgiving hovers, marking the coming of winter holidays. We salivate at the anticipation of traditional holiday dishes, unique to each family. Our family gathering is a conglomeration of traditions from New York to California with a large dose of the Midwest. We will meet to celebrate in Phoenix, at my nephew’s home. Over 30 of us.

Blue Boy is having his wisdom teeth removed earlier in the week, but agreed to the procedure as long as he can eat the stuffing. Mowgli may grab rolls. I love turkey, dressing, and a small amount of mashed potatoes with a side of sweet potatoes, all covered with my sister-in-law’s mother’s gravy.

In our Midwest home, the only meal we called dinner was Sunday at noon, after church. Evening weekday meals were supper. Gravy appeared on the table almost every week with dinner, which alternated between fried chicken and pot roast. As our health consciousness rose and our activity decreased, we cast aside comfort foods.

Except for Thanksgiving. A text thread to plan the menu affirmed that the traditional green bean casserole is anticipated, heavy on the cream, cheese, and crunchy onions; light on the beans.

The epitome of decadence, though, is the gravy. The recipe calls for hours of simmering the oils and drippings from the baked fowl. The livers ground into almost imperceptible size are cooked in to add thickness and a rich flavor, like no other gravy I have ever sampled. If it becomes too thick, more drippings are added, not water. Truly worth the risk of clogged arteries.

One day. But a day that sets into motion a month of holiday merry-making and gluttony. While my appetite has decreased with age, my body defending itself against the onslaught of calories, my palate is more discriminating. If I am going to eat a cookie, it must be the best. Well, maybe not. I eat any quality of cookie. But gravy. No, it must be the best. It’s only once a year.

It Doesn’t Take Much

It doesn’t take much: a walk around the block, a couple of mini-morning salutations, some deep breathing. And good nutrition.

It tastes even better than it looks.

Late getting up, I prepared a cup of coffee and grabbed a slice of O&H kringle leftover from yesterday’s book club before logging onto my iPad. My taste buds savored the slice of sweet, moist, buttery pastry with joy before my stomach protested with nausea. I firmly believe that if I am to waste calories and nutrition on sweets, those treats need to be the best. O&H out of Racine, Wisconsin, definitely fits the bill. The problem was consuming a handful of sugar for breakfast.

Thus, I opened the Zoom for online yoga with Noreen feeling less than optimal. Learned from experience: a little movement can counteract all kinds of ill feelings. I persevered.  

Although I can no longer do many of the poses because of bad knees, Noreen reminds her students that the practice is ours, for our bodies. So I adapted and kept moving.

Within a few minutes, the nausea was gone, my muscles were relaxing, and my mood was rising.

It doesn’t take much: a walk around the block, a couple of mini-morning salutations, some deep breathing. And good nutrition. With age, my body has little tolerance for a poor diet. So my number one concern today is, how can I ignore the call of those cookies my sister left for us?   

I ate the ice cream

The single scoop of Spouse Like a House left me feeling like a house. Hence the name? Size wise the equivalent of over two home scoops. Nutrition wise? Some things are best ignored.  

I do love ice cream, but it’s gotta be the good stuff.

Get me out of here!

My mind and body cried to get out of this place. I am not alone in being sick of the heat which ranges from 80 at night to over 100 during the day. Yes, it is a dry heat, but the months of unrelenting temperatures coupled with limitations imposed because of Covid has Arizonans on edge.

Avoiding highways congested with holiday travelers, Mike and I took an old fashion drive to parts unknown. We discovered another sprawl of planned communities I call Pleasantville. The well-maintained neighborhoods with full amenities exhibit little personality.

Yummy!

Thanks to Google we discovered a wonderful ice cream store which is, mercifully, too far from our house to frequent. Although a chain, Handel’s offers ice cream hand made on location. The single scoop of Spouse Like a House left me feeling like a house. Hence the name? Size wise the equivalent of over two home scoops. Nutrition wise? Some things are best ignored.  

So any fitness plans went down the highway. However, Mike and I had a pleasant drive with time to talk and a refreshing phone conversation with C-boy. And I won’t need any supper tonight.

Jumping off the wagon

The reader should be aware that I had inadvertently forgotten to pack my prescriptions. Without the levothyroxine, I can become fatigued. Without the escitalopram, my happy pills, I become anxious and depressed. By the second vodka tonic, I was beginning to sink.

I abandoned the wagon temporarily.

This is tough

The challenges of adhering to a diet to lower my cholesterol has been chronicled. It’s not getting easier. This time, I jumped after stumbling, avoiding total collision

We spent the past weekend up in Flagstaff, enjoying the cool air with ED and her two boys plus another teenage friend. C-boy and his wife and new baby, having come from Chicago to celebrate a wedding, joined us.

I can control this – NOT

Booking lodging in a spacious VRBO overlooking a wooded lot not far from town lulled me into thinking I could control my diet. However, we rarely ate at the house. Although the university town of Flagstaff offers many vegan and vegetarian restaurants, we tended toward the breweries which serve pub food. The side salads were excellent, but not enough for a meal. The diet was rich in animal products, processed flour, dairy, and sugar.

I supplemented calorie requirements with beer and wine. On one occasion, recalling MBP’s excellent recipe, I ordered an Old-Fashion cocktail. The drink was so unsatisfactory that I replaced it with a vodka tonic, vodka being this particular distiller’s specialty. Foolishly, I thought a second one would satisfy me. Wrong.

Oops

The reader should be aware that I had inadvertently forgotten to pack my prescriptions. Without the levothyroxine, I can become fatigued. Without the escitalopram, my happy pills, I become anxious and depressed. By the second vodka tonic, I was beginning to sink.

The effects of a weekend of unhealthy food, too much alcohol, and too few drugs resulted in a melt-down when we returned home Monday afternoon. We were hosting a few friends to introduce LLJ. My anxiety level was high. I tried soothing with wine. I ate mindfully, but the menu included red meat, chips, and processed flour in various forms.

Climbing back

The medication is taking effect as I write. An afternoon nap replenished my energy. No alcohol today, of course. Food wise, I am not back to where I was but the path is cleared.  

The wagon is coming around again. I will be back on it tomorrow.

I’m not sure this will work

I remind myself that I am still learning what a sustainable diet looks like. I feel as if I am walking in a creek, trying to balance among slippery rocks.

Slippery slope.

Social life or diet. . .

that is the question. Resuming social gatherings is showing me how difficult it is to maintain a healthy diet for which there are no outward measurements. Weight would be easy to track; but I am doing this to lower cholesterol.

The plan was to eat in a way that was healthy and sustainable in order to lower the leap my cholesterol took during COVID. Earlier blogs recount the difficulties while traveling.

Eating out is challenging. Often I don’t want another salad, especially one made of iceberg lettuce and a few sprigs of carrot for color.

Even eating at home presents difficulties since I am not the one in charge of the kitchen.

Out for brunch with friends, I forgot to request dry toast with my eggs. The butter was delicious. But the high fat left me nauseous.

An afternoon get together that same day offered few foods to promote low cholesterol. And the pub menu from which we ordered food to enjoy during a basketball game later was . . . pub food.  

And then it was Mike’s birthday, so I celebrated with ice cream.

So I drank.

Although the imbibing was due more to frustration of circumstances than to the diet, it impacts the end result.

I remind myself that I am still learning what a sustainable diet looks like. I feel as if I am walking in a creek, trying to balance among slippery rocks.

My goal is three months to establish healthy eating patterns with exercise to the mix. At that time I will measure the results in cholesterol count.

Until then, I eat a lot of carrots.

That was a mistake

The limited availability of accommodations for 11 people landed us in a 2-star AirBNB. Innocently, I thought I had figured out a healthy travel diet during our recent trip to Chicago. Blame the heat and humidity, the noise of 11 people, the cramped accommodations, and the frustration with service for succumbing to temptation of day drinking and carb overload.

Determined

With pandemic precautions eased, I had returned to the gym to exercise while resuming a more normal social life. I promised my doctor that I would adjust my diet to compensate for the COVID pastries that had elevated my cholesterol.

To the beach!

Just two days returned from Chicago, we joined family and friends in Puerto Penasco, Mexico, one of our favorite places in the world.

The larder was supplied with enough food to check starvation for a month. Personal preferences for people age 2-70 notwithstanding, specialized diets complicated food prep. One person was in the midst of two 30-day challenges: vegan and sober. Another was adhering to the Whole 30 plan. I have my lower cholesterol needs.

But it’s Mexico…

…where food is delicious but not necessarily healthy.

And it’s Mexico, where the clock is wall décor. Service is uncomfortably slow and unpredictable. (To be fair, service in the States has been very poor recently.)

And it’s Mexico, where late June is hot and humid.

And it’s Mexico where the beach is pristine public land attracting Americans who want to avoid the crowds of California.

It’s not my fault

The limited availability of accommodations for 11 people landed us in a 2-star AirBNB. Innocently, I thought I had figured out a healthy travel diet during our recent trip to Chicago. Blame the heat and humidity, the noise of 11 people, the cramped accommodations, and the frustration with service for succumbing to temptation of day drinking and carb overload.

Thus, for breakfast one morning, a cup of coffee washed down a chunk of banana bread, with butterscotch and chocolate chips. Yes, delicious.

Four weeks of healthy eating had its effect: a sugar crash marked by instant fatigue and nausea drove me to my room. There I shavasna-ed and wrote.

I envisioned a salad for lunch. My mouth watered.

Special diet dilemma

Limiting sugar intake makes sweet goodies are REALLY SWEET!
Three weeks without red meat makes sausage almost unpalatable.
It is next to impossible to do this when traveling. I definitely need to travel with my own cache.

Of course, I substitute a salad for the fries.

So glad that I had ordered the cheeseburger

After celebrating Mowgli’s 8th grade promotion by enjoying a cheeseburger at Cuffs, I was contacted by my doctor’s office who reported a significant jump in my bad cholesterol. He suggested a low dose of statins.

Uh, no, thank you.

I confessed my sins: more pastries in the past 15 months than in the previous 5 years combined, thanks to the pandemic. My knee surgery and the quarantine had reduced my physical activity to treks to the bathroom. Online-yoga and Butts & Guts had ended months ago. A few mini morning salutations eased any stiffness and was considered a days worth of exercise.

Give me another chance

Forgiven and blessed, I promised to return to a regular exercise routine and improved diet with a follow-up blood test in a few months.

I would eat and exercise in a way I could sustain over time. Not vegan, vegetarian, pescatarian, or any other -ian, I searched online for appropriate foods.

Let’s say I have been eating a lot of fruits and vegetables, which, thankfully, I enjoy. Hummus and nuts for snacks, a piece of whole grain bread for breakfast with egg or non-fat yogurt. In close to three weeks, only two ounces of red meat (and, by the way, it was smoked tritip and delicioius and totally worth it!).

The most difficult to ignore is cheese which I love and use often to assuage hunger. No more.

I’ve got this

The first week, I was frequently hungry and had to figure out ways to alleviate it. It was especially annoying to awaken hungry in the morning. With no sugar-free flavoring in the house, I found that a teaspoon of chocolate syrup in a cup of warm non-fat milk (no one says “skim” any more) in the evening got me through the night.

Although I have not yet given up wine (let’s not go crazy), I have been conscientious. Here is what I have relearned:

  • Limiting sugar intake makes sweet goodies REALLY SWEET!
  • Three weeks without red meat makes sausage almost unpalatable.
  • It is next to impossible to do this when traveling. I definitely need to travel with my own cache.

Until I get the results of my next blood work, I have no idea if this is making an impact on my cholesterol. But the current diet is sustainable, so it is worth a shot.

Meanwhile, if your cholesterol is managed, I highly recommend the cheeseburger at Cuffs.

No numbers!

My pandemic diet of baked goods and cheese, more than I had consumed in the previously five years combined, probably contributes to my raised cholesterol reading.

Numbers rule our lives

But I only wanted to help

C-boy was three years old when he enjoyed bombing into our arms from the pool deck before we assisted him to the edge.

To prepare him as dinnertime approached, I conceded three more jumps.

“No numbers!” he cried. “No numbers!”

It was some time before I realized he wasn’t declaring his aversion to math, which would continue for many years. He just didn’t want to get out of the pool.

(Did he develop an aversion because I applied numbers to the end of fun: three more jumps, three more slides, three more swings, three more at bats?)

Health is measured by numbers. Numbers told my doctor that my cholesterol was getting out of control.

No numbers!!! Weight, cholesterol, blood pressure, innumerable labs. As I age, I watch the numbers more closely.

Oops!

My cholesterol has always been high because the good stuff (HDL) is off the chart balancing the bad stuff (LDL). Unfortunately the bad stuff is catching up.

My pandemic diet of baked goods and cheese, more than I had consumed in the previously five years combined, probably contributes.

The lack of exercise? Where am I going to go? Who wants to move when you must avoid everyone and every place you love.

My social life is limited to visits on Zoom (sitting) or socially spaced outdoors on the patio (sitting).

I promise I will try

Now back at an exercise class, occasionally walking (it IS 100o  outside), swimming, and in general, moving more, I promised the medical assistant that I would watch my diet and get retested in four months.

Sympathetic, she recited a list of healthy food options, repeating that I must adhere to the cholesterol diet consistently. She also suggested daily short walks, light weights… Helloooo? I’m 70 years old. I KNOW what to do. Doing it is something else.

(My friend Nancy wonders why the dental hygienist still reminds her to brush and floss daily. Nancy, sorry, is 73. She knows.)

Thankfully I am motivated by these numbers. I will exercise moderately, watch my diet, but enjoy life. If that doesn’t work, we can talk medication.  

Healthy or sane?

Three plus weeks into our journey, I am convinced that eating healthy 100% of the time is not on the agenda in the immediate future. My goal is to eat healthy whenever possible. I won’t turn down singular delights. Special treats are special because they are unique and rare. I aim to keep them rare.

Exquisite Dutch pastires.

Silly me.

I really thought I could enjoy a healthy diet while on the road? I loaded the cooler with boiled eggs, raw veggies and fruit, some cheese and a few crackers for breakfast and snacks. Ignorantly I pictured myself purchasing healthy dinners along the way.

Craving carbs, eating locally, and the frustrations of travel foster a less than ideal situation for good nutrition.

And the local delights!

We live in Arizona with fantastic Mexican food, but driving through Moline obligated us to dine on Adolph’s tacos and Frank’s pizza. Leaving the Quad Cities without Whitey’s ice cream is unimaginable.

My Iowa cousin gifted us donut holes and Dutch letter pastries from Jaarsma Bakery in Pella. A new must-stop!

I was careful to save a few of the delights to offer to my friend Judy when she joined us in our hotel room for coffee. Suffering from celiac disease, she graciously declined.

To assuage her temptation, I popped the donut hole into my mouth and enjoyed the last curve of the Dutch letter. One must do what one can to nurture good friendships.

The other day SD and MBP brought home part of a donut from Dollop Diner in Chicago. Oh my. This was not a chain bakery chemical concoction. Two bites of deliciousness were adequate to satisfy my sweet tooth.

Amazingly, I can still get into my jeans. Thank you, elastic waist bands.

A healthy balance

Three plus weeks into our journey, I am convinced that eating healthy 100% of the time is not on the agenda in the immediate future. My goal is to eat healthy whenever possible. I won’t turn down singular delights. Special treats are special because they are unique and rare. I aim to keep them rare.