P.I.A.

Being a recovering bulimic is a pain in the ass.

We arrived home in Boston today and I felt relief: to be home, where my mail is and bills are, where my dog's bed is and mine, where I can sit in the kitchen and know where every utensil belongs. It was nice to be home. After unpacking the car and starting laundry, Heather and I sat down to exchange more gifts and then started on bills and receipts while enjoying a glass of Cab (thank you neighbors). I called USCIS for a status update... not much progress. We prepped dinner and ate (thank you Cinny for enchiladas). And then I fell apart.

I was planning to enjoy a chocolate after dinner. Cinny bought us a box of white and milk assorted chocolates from See's. Lovely. Except there were peanuts and I'm allergic. So no chocolate. Big deal, right? Wrong. See, in the middle of leaving home (Georgia) and not sleeping and having a cold and having, as Heather correctly named it an "emotional attachment" to food, I began to cry. And not just crocodile tears...sobs. And I find myself, 30+mins later, still on the verge of tears.

I don't know if food would solve this problem. 80 lost pounds later I presume food, especially dessert, would not solve this problem. I'm tired. My body is worn down with a two-month old cold. And, most of all, I'm hurting. I left my family yesterday and I miss them already. It always happens like this- a few days of deep sadness post-leaving. Five years later, I'm still not good at leaving them. I buck and cry and cry and buck. Big kid.

Tonight was primed by leaving and triggered by food. Food, especially dessert, is my trigger. Rich cheesecake and gooey chocolate. Whipped cream. Ice cream. Cake. They remind me of home. Of comfort. Of caring. Of hands that baked and dished. Those that shared with me. Of nights alone when they didn't and I recreated alone. Baking and dishing and eating. Comforted.

A non-bulimic can't understand why it's such a big issue. Why I can't get over it or eat something else. A non-bulimic can't understand that in my head I've already made a decision (whether conscious or unconscious) to replace my feelings with "X", whether "X" is a See's chocolate or a cupcake or brownie or ice-cream. The choice and substitution has been made. Done. And when the substitution fails, then there's this emptiness. A desperation that begins because there's nothing to hold on to, to be comforted by. And a replacement doesn't work. If a See's chocolate = sublimated grief then how can a Hershey's kiss replace it just because it's there? If a replacement were an option it would have to be chosen. I have to choose to sublimate my grief with a "See's chocolate" or "Hershey's kiss". The grief is too important just to be replaced by whatever is available.

Then when I realize there's no replacement, that a See's chocolate is it or bust, I collapse. Cry in pieces on Heather's lap. Deep sobs. Whether for the grief of leaving or the grief of not eating chocolate I don't know. They're now one and the same. And I'm lost. No family. No chocolate. No replacement.

I'm sure this sounds crazy to the reader. It's a little crazy for me- now nearly 12 years since I first became bulimic- it's still crazy. And I'm writing it out so it's not in my head- alone. And because when I'm writing, I'm not eating. Or drinking. And though this is shameful, it's a better solution than feeding (literally) this demon that's a little crazy. A little shameful. And very real. Still, five years since my recovery began. Still very real.

energy

that's what I'm trying to find- in the midst of too little sleep, menstruation, and work. I have a vacation next week (a staycation in reality) and I'm hoping to find my energy then.

Part of it is a logistics problem. For a while I was too busy at work to think about extra energy. It was work, home, dog walk, sleep, work...Pretty boring and very exhausting. Now October is over and my first two schools are done for teaching (only two more to go this semester-yay!). Now I'm transitioning into the winter of the year and trying to recapture my spring energy. Really, things go so much easier for me in the spring- exercise and weight loss. I have less issue with motivation. Right now, I want to hibernate and eat baked goods, but it's really having a toll on my psyche and, I think, my energy. Which, if you follow the pattern around: hibernate, baked goods, sugar crash, no energy, hibernate, baked goods, sugar crash, no energy... doesn't lead to anything positive. And, my Nike MiniMe is creaming at me to go for a run; it's been a week. But I have no motivation to do it. I know, I should just stop this typing and run my ass to the treadmill. It's not going to happen though. 1 homemade pumpkin chocolate chip muffin and a half-caf for breakfast and I'm toast. Stupid decision. And I agonized over it for at least 45minutes...

So, this post is supposed to get me mentally psyched up. There's a race on Dec 13th in Somerville. It's only a 5k, but it would be a good run to work towards. It's $30 though and I can't sign up for that until the next paycheck hits. So...until then, here's a few steps to get me going.

1. Get girlfriend on board. Done. As I was typing this step, Heather called to say she loves me. :) That's the best call ever. And, we talked about training together for Dec 13th. Girlfriend is officially on board!

2. Nike Running Coach. Logging on I have a pang of guilt. My last run was 10/27- over 10 days ago. No wonder my MiniMe is pitching a fit every time my screensaver logs on. Ok, time to sign on to A Coach J Intermediate 5K training program. START DATE: THURS NOV 12th!

3. Public Commitment. Does typing all of this count? I think I'm on board and now you know it!

Reunion with Be-Ro

That's what happened tonight. It was the least dramatic reunion I've ever been too- no tears, no past grudges, no memories of ill-worn fashion. Just pure joy. Fond times. Sweet memories. Savored (and savory) moments.

Are you the least bit interested yet? Well, if not, quit reading, because for the next 10 minutes I'm going to share my evening with you. You, me and the Be-Ro book.

Yes, that's right. I typed it. The Be-Ro book. Now, for those non-British folks out there you likely have no clue what I'm talking about; unless of course you're married to one of us OR you've spent some time in the old country immersing yourself in "the culture" (you Anglophiles you!). No matter, I'll introduce you to my old friend the Be-Ro book, who tonight was rescued from the dusty space between Martha Stewart and Delia Smith, almost lost but never forgotten.

The Be-Ro Flour Home Recipe 40th Edition is my version of heaven. Granted, I have a penchant for anything cakey, creamy, jammy, and sweet. It's not my fault; I was born and bred and remain a Brit. We're designed to love stodgy puddings and jam and cream-filled sponge cakes. But it doesn't stop there. I also have a taste for cheesey pastries, crumbly scones, salty pies and (soy) sausages in batter. Mmmm. Vegetarian toad in the hole. Delish.

Since 1923, the Be-Ro cookery book has brought common recipes back to the common (wo)man. For almost 2-years, since my last move, Be-Ro and I have been separated. Sadly out of sight but not out of mind, as I've imagined savory cheese scones, jam tarts, and Victoria sponge cakes. But how to make those recipes? Separated from the Be-Ro book I could no longer remember the measures of flour to sugar. The oven temperatures or dish to timing ratio. I could no longer recall how I'd once baked such delights; the staple dishes and Sunday tea treats of my upbringing. That is, until tonight.

Tonight I called my mum for a recipe: Quiche Lorraine. One of many recipes she excels at.( I should also mention her rice pudding, lasagna, and British-style pancakes. Scrumptious.) With a day off work ahead of me tomorrow and a group of guests arriving for dinner on Wednesday evening at 7pm (after a full work day ending at 6pm), I decided to do what any well-educated young English-woman would do: make quiche. Additionally, a weekend sale on eggs and cheese make for ideal timing.

Quiche Lorraine. For years I've enjoyed multiple versions: Broccoli and Cheese, Cheese and Onion, Ham and Cheese (in the old meat-eating days), Sweetcorn. There have been mixed vegetable versions, chicken n' cheddar, and herbed-only platters. Served at the golf club Christmas parties, summer picnics, Brit-reunions. Quiche fits any occasion and most palates. However, for all of my enjoyment, I realised this evening, I've never made quiche. So I called my mother for a recipe.

"You'll not like this," she said. "You just have to experiment. I don't use a recipe." No recipe? Really? All those years of quiche and no recipe? How did she learn and why hadn't I yet? I was panicked. "It's a shortcrust pastry," she began. "Shortcrust? How do I make shortcrust pastry?" I didn't know where to start and here's my mum talking like I'm already apart of the shortcrust-pastry baking club.

"It's in the Be-Ro book?" Be-Ro book. Be-Ro book. Where is that book? I stood paralyzed in the middle of the kitchen until it hit me. The bookshelf. (I swear it wasn't that obvious. We have 2 built-in and 2 free-standing bookshelves in this house-all full of books upon books. It's easy to get lost in them.)

And then I found it. The Be-Ro cookery book. Blue. A little tousled at the corners from use. A sticky cover. And full of sweet, sweet, savored (and savory) memories. Welsh griddle scones like my Granny used to make on Friday evenings upon my visits after school. Toad in the hole- my Dad's go-to end-of-the-week dish for my brother and I. Jam tarts filled with tart raspberry and lemon sugars. The same pastries I carried as a child for the local Salmon Queen festival's costume competition. I went as the Queen of Hearts based on a childhood rhyme,

"The Queen of Hearts,
she made some tarts,
all on a summer's day.
The Knave of Hearts,
he stole the tarts,
and ate them right away"

I didn't win the competition, but loved baking the jam and lemon curd tarts with my mum and offering them up to neighbors and festival-goers.

There were more recipes: cheese scones (a Mum-favorite), Highlanders (melt-in-your-mouth shortbread biscuits), cheese straws (a party favorite), vol-au-vents (adult dinner hors d'ouevres), sausage rolls (recently perfected as a vegetarian version by my mother), currant buns (often made by my brother and I on weekend afternoons), chocolate swiss roll (a childhood favorite and special treat only), yorkshire puddings (a Sunday dinner side to Beef or Turkey). With each recipe came a new memory, a smile, an appreciation for family and food.

I assume that Be-Ro and I will be spending some quality time together over the next few weeks. I have a list of recipes I want to bake. Vegetarian versions I'm excited to try. An experiment in British cookery in New England. I can't wait. Will King Arthur's flour hold up to Be-Ro? I'm unsure, but it's a welcome (and potentially delicious) challenge.

I write this all after returning to WW tonight for the first time in 5-weeks. I remained the same weight I left at. During my 5 week absence I ate in response to my body, including my needs and my cravings. I didn't worry about the scale, and I was successful.

I add this afterword about WW not to dampen the mood, nor to suggest that all eating winds up being about WW. For me, it doesn't and hasn't in practice. But I add this afterword to highlight that you can be a foodie and lose weight. You can be a foodie and maintain. You can enjoy food and the good memories of food and have struggled with weight and weight-loss. It's all about balance- and listening.

I noted at my WW meeting this evening that I've made it through almost another 10-months of WW and 30lbs of weight-loss by learning one simple skill: listening. I'm not good at it yet, but I'm practicing. This whole journey is about listening to myself. To the cravings. To the memories. To the hunger. To the pain with injury. To the tiredness. To the stress. To the feelings. It's about listening and trying to respond to myself in the most positive way possible- even if that means some nights I'm eating take-out so I can come home, eat, not wash a dish and go to bed. Other days it means healthy habits- drinking lots of water, going for that run, weighing portions, eating leafy greens, passing up the caffeine from Starbucks. Whatever the case, it's about listening. It's staying in that extra 30minutes in bed. Saying no to another project. It's crying and laughing and spending time with friends if I need to. This journey is about the whole me. The fat kid. The good British food. The love of baking and the love of eating. And, through listening to and respecting all of those parts of me, I can make this work.

I may almost be a real vegetarian...

I'm at a training on the Champlain Islands in Vermont for the next 2 days and on the way up tonight, I stopped in Burlington for dinner (per recommendation of the organizers). Apparently, the villages on the Islands are pretty empty of dinner choices.

So, I looked up a few restaurants over the weekend with the thought that I'd be better prepared. I was. I found a wonderful place- Shanty on the Shore, serving up the best seafood in Burlington. I ordered shrimp and scallop gnocchi (the only two non-vegetarian fare I enjoy- and mainly so I can eat out restaurants) with sundried tomatoes (a favorite of mine). The dish looked great. I dived into the gnocchi- cooked to potato pasta perfection. I then continued to try a scallop- broiled, succulent. And then a shrimp- again broiled, not as succulent. I made it through one more scallop and one more shrimp before I began to gag. They were so fleshy, so meaty. Fishy.

I couldn't eat any more seafood. I nibbled on a couple of gnocchi and then seceded. My gut just couldn't take it.

This is not the first time I've experienced the seafood-squirm. After a few too many days of eating shrimp on our trip to GA I began to gag. Eating too large scallop. Too large shrimp. I'm better when I stick to the small ones.

Does this mean I'm going to have to give up seafood? Say bye-bye to shrimp and scallops- the last bastion and monument to my carnivorous days?

At this point, I'm not sure. But, I'm not thrilled with the idea of eating seafood again any time soon. I'll stick to soy.

Start as you mean to go on.

I was on a writing roll there for a few days, but unfortunately was sidetracked. Went to WW last week at lost 1.6lbs. Not too bad though I'd had a little up (1.4lbs over the 2 weeks prior). Still, this is a journey not a race.

I do have a race this weekend though- a 10k trail run in Lynn. Heather's going to run it with me. She was supposed to do a run-bike duathlon a the same location, but had a small incident with a razor this weekend resulting in stitches in her thumb. The doc said no biking for 10 days so the pressure of her hand on the handlebars doesn't rip out the stitches, but running is fine.

So after a slow start this morning (I slept in as am traveling to VT for work and apparently have "homework" for my conference tonight), I motivated myself to go for a 3 mile run. While I'd like to say the motivation came from race prep for this upcoming weekend- it didn't . Truthfully, my motivation was my Nike Run avatar (I call her mini-me). See I downloaded the Nike avatar screensaver to my laptop. It's a hoot. My little avatar pops up on the screen after a few minutes with one of two attitudes: "Yay I ran" or "Man I need to run". For the "Yay I ran" attitude she's jumping all around saying things like "This 3 mile run made me feel so good" or "I can conquer anything". But, when you're lazy for a couple of days out pops the "Man I need to run" 'tude. She sits around bemoaning life with comments like, "This lack of running is making me sluggish" or "I'd love to run, but my hands are tied".

And this little screensaver works for me. I want mini-me to be jumping around happy, excited, and proud of her exercise. So after waking up and playing with the dog, I clothed my ass in run gear and went out for a 3miler. It wasn't fast (10:40/mi avg pace) unlike my and Heather's Fri night 2 miler at a 9:48/mi avg pace. And today I was totally glad when I finished, but now sitting down to a hearty brunch (egg white, potatoes, and chikin patty- 5pts total!) I'm super pleased with myself.

And, the running gear is packed for (apparently) rainy VT, and I plan to sneak in 4-6miles over Tues and Weds, take Thurs off, run an easy 2 miler Fri, race the 6miler on Sat, and take Sun off. :)

So, onwards and upwards (at least in my mileage).

So we run...

and some days it's damned hard. Like today. That "easy 2 miler" I lightly quoted yesterday...yeah, it kicked my ass today. I managed no faster than a 10:53/mi pace (on my 4.25 miler I ran a 10:55/mil pace..with the extra miles added on).

Though I'm still running the distances I was earlier this summer, my pace has definitely suffered from my summer running vacation. I looked at my mileage on my Nike profile (find a link to it below) and realized that I ran only 2.9 miles for the entire month of August. Perhaps I'm making up for it by running two 10ks in October: the Down & Dirty 10k Trail Run (Oct 3rd by myself) and the Nike 10k Challenge (Oct 24th w/ Maureen). Now I'm on the lookout for November races to sign up for. I think it's keeps me moving better. Like today...

Nothing in my body wanted to run this morning. So I didn't. I laid in bed with a splitting headache and overslept. Nothing in my body wanted to run this afternoon. So I ran anyway. Why? Because this week I have to log a 1x4mi, 2x2mi, and 1x5mi runs (13 miles total). Why? Because I'm on a plan for the Oct 3rd race, in which I want to run well and not hurt myself. Also, I have to run more next week (1x4mi, 2 x 2mi, and 1x6mi runs - 14 miles total). And it increases from there. I'd like to get to 20mi/week on average, but am going to increase slowly, after the 10k/6mi, only by .5mi/week. I need no injuries!

Anyhow, I believe I may need to become a morning runner. This afternoon's run was hell. I hurt. It hurt. My mind wasn't in it and I was physically worn down from work stressors. I've been reading articles about when to run (Runners World, Running Times) and there's pluses and minuses to morning running. + It's done with. + You start the day focused on you. - More at risk of injury - I can't eat for an hour after waking due to my missing thyroid and replacement hormones = running on an empty stomach. Not good. I honestly think late morning would be best for me but who gets to go into work late that often? And, while I can mask a 2miler sweat, there's not hope for me after that. It's shower or bust, but my office is not equipped with a gym or shower facilities.

So, afternoon/evenings runs are supposedly the best for your body. You're physically geared up. But mentally? After a day at work I'm shot. Tired. No longer energized. Often feeling negative emotionally (read: mad, sad) or physically tired (read: been running around like crazy all day, or on my feet training) and it doesn't seem to translate well into a run.

I'm also into this idea of putting myself first: "get it on" style. There's something about fitting runs around my work schedule that gives work precedence. But I don't want work to be the defining piece of my life (though I do need to pay the bills).

So what to do? Well, at least I'm writing down the runs I want to do in my calendar, so I'm aware of them. I'm trying to x-out my "me time" in my calendar so that the runs have a place to live in my day-to-day.

And perhaps signing up for more races will help keep it at the forefront. Any one running a fun race in November?

And talking about dem' apples (an addendum)

I ran 4.25 miles this morning...and could've kept on going. Hell yeah! Bring on my easy 2miler tomorrow morning! :)

PS- I read in Runner's World this morning that for every 1lb you shed of excess weight that you can shave an average of 2.5secs off each mile you run. Another nice reason to lose another 10-20lbs...