Sunday, January 29, 2012
Saturday, January 14, 2012
I find it a little disturbing...
...that the cashier at one of our local shops has a lovely French-tip manicure. And pearl earrings. And impeccably groomed eyebrows. And subtle eyeliner. And a really deep voice, because he's a man. Does not compute.
Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against guyliner when it's warranted.
Maybe I stumbled onto a movie set?
Monday, January 09, 2012
In Which I Overshare
Remember the famous Soup Nazi from Seinfeld? No soup for you!
I have a whole regiment of little Carb Nazis inside of my body.
When we eat carbs (of any kind, from sugar to beans, from refined to complex) it is turned into glucose. Glucose is good; it fuels our bodies, and particularly our brains. The key is making sure we have just the right amounts; too little or too much, and we have problems. To keep the glucose in check, we produce insulin. In an ideal world, we eat the right kinds of carbs in the right amounts, and our bodies produce insulin to help the resulting glucose get into the cells where it belongs.
Every time I eat a carb, my cells beg for the glucose, but the insulin receptors, the Carb Nazis, the angry gatekeepers of my cells, yell "No glucose for you!" and slam the door. This starts a tiny riot, as the bits of glucose, aided by their insulin friends, race around like Keystone Kops, trying to find a way past the Carb Nazis, and my glucose-deprived cells start screaming for more carbs because they are starving, I tell you! Starving! Good (complex) carbs make this happen more slowly than bad (simple) carbs, but they both do it.
The pancreas, not wanting to be left out of the fun, notices that there's a lot of extra glucose floating around, and kicks into higher gear, like the good little organ that it is. It starts sending out big amounts of insulin to help the glucose break down the doors of the cells. Some of the fellas get through, but the rest remain excess glucose (which wouldn't be excess at all if the insulin receptors weren't traitorous little beasts and refusing to accept new residents). These little guys have to find a home somewhere, so they change themselves into fat and go where all the cool kids hang out: the abdomen. Apparently, the landlords there just keep building on to accept all the new residents. Isn't that accommodating of them?
As the insulin receptors/Carb Nazis realize that there's a whole lotta insulin appearing all of the sudden, they immediately tighten their membership rules, and refuse even more applicants, feeling like they have plenty already, thankyouverymuch. This makes the pancreas work even harder at trying to force some insulin on them, and if all this keeps up long enough, eventually the pancreas gives up and says, "screw this, I'm outta here." It retires and moves to Boca, leaving you as an insulin-dependent type 2 diabetic. (Which I'm not, just for the record. Don't freak out, Mom. I've been tested. And tested. And just this week, tested again).
This vicious cycle is called Insulin Resistance. It's not diabetes (yet), and I'd like for it to stay that way. This means I have to give up not only the obvious stuff (candy) but the stuff I thought was good, helpful, and desirable in a healthy diet (like, say, apples and whole wheat bread). Not entirely, thankfully...I can have a little. But one sandwich on whole wheat bread has more carbs than I'm allowed for an entire meal, not even counting whatever's between the slices. Add an apple, and it's almost double my allowance. Eat all that with no extra protein to slow things down, and I'm in trouble.
How did I get this way? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it's genetic predisposition. Maybe it's all the low-fat foods I've eaten for so long (which are almost all jacked up with massive refined carbs, much of it sugar. Nice). I'm not talking about the naturally low-fat stuff like broccoli, but rather low-fat versions of regular foods (think mayo, dressings, sweets, etc). Add on a mostly-sedentary lifestyle and a fondness for chocolate and pizza, and we have a situation.
Sometime in the last decade I suddenly started noticing my stomach getting bigger and bigger for no apparent reason. Two stints with Weight Watchers left me worse off than before. When thirty pounds piled on within about two months, I gave up. I'd rather stay at my current level of fat than lose a little only to gain back twice as much in a mad rush. And really? I wasn't eating all that much food. I wasn't stockpiling candy bars (except maybe at Halloween) or hitting the buffet every night. And no matter how careful I was, how religiously I counted calories and fat and fiber and WW points, it just kept getting worse. Because you know what I wasn't counting? Carbs. Why would I do that? I was eating oatmeal and fruit, dang it! Staying well within my calorie/fat/points allotment, even going to Jazzercise (which is as hilarious as it sounds). I finally decided it was a hormonal imbalance. And it kinda was, only I was looking at the wrong hormone.
Why am I telling you all this? There are a couple of reasons. The first is that maybe someone reading this has had a similar experience, and would like to finally figure out why they not only can't lose weight, but also can't sleep at night even though they could sleep all day if allowed. Why they have brain fog and extreme exhaustion. Why they have unexplained anxiety, perhaps. Why all their tests for thyroid and diabetes come back normal, yet they feel like crap. If this describes you, ask for a fasting insulin test. You might find that your blood sugar is in the normal range because your pancreas is working itself to death to keep it that way. And then you might hop online and start researching, and discover that insulin resistance impairs the body's ability to convert thyroid to other forms, which is why your tests say your thyroid levels are fine, yet your body feels like your thyroid has been sleeping on the job for about a decade.
If your doctor says everything is in the normal range and sends you home, take at look at your numbers. Because my numbers show that I'm barely below the danger zone, and have been for some time. But until you actually hit the danger zone...until you actually have freaking DIABETES...they tell you you're fine. Because on my tests, at least, the "normal" range ends right beneath the "better buy a bunch of test strips" range. There is no, "hey, this is a little unusual, you might want to take a look at this" range. I had to request these extra tests specifically, and I only did so after my friend Leslie posted her story on her blog, and offered to help me through the IR jungle.
So that's reason number one. Maybe it will help someone. And reason number two: If you're reading this, chances are you're a family member or a friend who sees me on a semi-regular basis, often in a social setting that involves food. So I'm asking for your help. If you host book club and you offer me a mouth-watering dessert, and I turn it down, don't think I'm insulting your cooking/judging your eating habits/showing off my superior willpower (which honestly, I don't have much of, and I will really, really want that dessert). If you see me munching almonds during primary, it's just me thinking it would be nice to not pass out at church. If we're having a party and I bring something unconventional, it's because I want to know that there's something there I can eat without sending my blood sugar and insulin skyrocketing.
Also, if you catch me falling off the wagon, don't judge. This is hard, y'all. I've been doing this for almost 4 weeks now. It's getting easier. But I don't think it's ever going to be really easy.
Hey, I'm actually hosting book club this month. Protein shakes all around! (KIDDING. Please come to book club. We'll have something edible, I promise).
I have a whole regiment of little Carb Nazis inside of my body.
When we eat carbs (of any kind, from sugar to beans, from refined to complex) it is turned into glucose. Glucose is good; it fuels our bodies, and particularly our brains. The key is making sure we have just the right amounts; too little or too much, and we have problems. To keep the glucose in check, we produce insulin. In an ideal world, we eat the right kinds of carbs in the right amounts, and our bodies produce insulin to help the resulting glucose get into the cells where it belongs.
Every time I eat a carb, my cells beg for the glucose, but the insulin receptors, the Carb Nazis, the angry gatekeepers of my cells, yell "No glucose for you!" and slam the door. This starts a tiny riot, as the bits of glucose, aided by their insulin friends, race around like Keystone Kops, trying to find a way past the Carb Nazis, and my glucose-deprived cells start screaming for more carbs because they are starving, I tell you! Starving! Good (complex) carbs make this happen more slowly than bad (simple) carbs, but they both do it.
The pancreas, not wanting to be left out of the fun, notices that there's a lot of extra glucose floating around, and kicks into higher gear, like the good little organ that it is. It starts sending out big amounts of insulin to help the glucose break down the doors of the cells. Some of the fellas get through, but the rest remain excess glucose (which wouldn't be excess at all if the insulin receptors weren't traitorous little beasts and refusing to accept new residents). These little guys have to find a home somewhere, so they change themselves into fat and go where all the cool kids hang out: the abdomen. Apparently, the landlords there just keep building on to accept all the new residents. Isn't that accommodating of them?
As the insulin receptors/Carb Nazis realize that there's a whole lotta insulin appearing all of the sudden, they immediately tighten their membership rules, and refuse even more applicants, feeling like they have plenty already, thankyouverymuch. This makes the pancreas work even harder at trying to force some insulin on them, and if all this keeps up long enough, eventually the pancreas gives up and says, "screw this, I'm outta here." It retires and moves to Boca, leaving you as an insulin-dependent type 2 diabetic. (Which I'm not, just for the record. Don't freak out, Mom. I've been tested. And tested. And just this week, tested again).
This vicious cycle is called Insulin Resistance. It's not diabetes (yet), and I'd like for it to stay that way. This means I have to give up not only the obvious stuff (candy) but the stuff I thought was good, helpful, and desirable in a healthy diet (like, say, apples and whole wheat bread). Not entirely, thankfully...I can have a little. But one sandwich on whole wheat bread has more carbs than I'm allowed for an entire meal, not even counting whatever's between the slices. Add an apple, and it's almost double my allowance. Eat all that with no extra protein to slow things down, and I'm in trouble.
How did I get this way? Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe it's genetic predisposition. Maybe it's all the low-fat foods I've eaten for so long (which are almost all jacked up with massive refined carbs, much of it sugar. Nice). I'm not talking about the naturally low-fat stuff like broccoli, but rather low-fat versions of regular foods (think mayo, dressings, sweets, etc). Add on a mostly-sedentary lifestyle and a fondness for chocolate and pizza, and we have a situation.
Sometime in the last decade I suddenly started noticing my stomach getting bigger and bigger for no apparent reason. Two stints with Weight Watchers left me worse off than before. When thirty pounds piled on within about two months, I gave up. I'd rather stay at my current level of fat than lose a little only to gain back twice as much in a mad rush. And really? I wasn't eating all that much food. I wasn't stockpiling candy bars (except maybe at Halloween) or hitting the buffet every night. And no matter how careful I was, how religiously I counted calories and fat and fiber and WW points, it just kept getting worse. Because you know what I wasn't counting? Carbs. Why would I do that? I was eating oatmeal and fruit, dang it! Staying well within my calorie/fat/points allotment, even going to Jazzercise (which is as hilarious as it sounds). I finally decided it was a hormonal imbalance. And it kinda was, only I was looking at the wrong hormone.
Why am I telling you all this? There are a couple of reasons. The first is that maybe someone reading this has had a similar experience, and would like to finally figure out why they not only can't lose weight, but also can't sleep at night even though they could sleep all day if allowed. Why they have brain fog and extreme exhaustion. Why they have unexplained anxiety, perhaps. Why all their tests for thyroid and diabetes come back normal, yet they feel like crap. If this describes you, ask for a fasting insulin test. You might find that your blood sugar is in the normal range because your pancreas is working itself to death to keep it that way. And then you might hop online and start researching, and discover that insulin resistance impairs the body's ability to convert thyroid to other forms, which is why your tests say your thyroid levels are fine, yet your body feels like your thyroid has been sleeping on the job for about a decade.
If your doctor says everything is in the normal range and sends you home, take at look at your numbers. Because my numbers show that I'm barely below the danger zone, and have been for some time. But until you actually hit the danger zone...until you actually have freaking DIABETES...they tell you you're fine. Because on my tests, at least, the "normal" range ends right beneath the "better buy a bunch of test strips" range. There is no, "hey, this is a little unusual, you might want to take a look at this" range. I had to request these extra tests specifically, and I only did so after my friend Leslie posted her story on her blog, and offered to help me through the IR jungle.
So that's reason number one. Maybe it will help someone. And reason number two: If you're reading this, chances are you're a family member or a friend who sees me on a semi-regular basis, often in a social setting that involves food. So I'm asking for your help. If you host book club and you offer me a mouth-watering dessert, and I turn it down, don't think I'm insulting your cooking/judging your eating habits/showing off my superior willpower (which honestly, I don't have much of, and I will really, really want that dessert). If you see me munching almonds during primary, it's just me thinking it would be nice to not pass out at church. If we're having a party and I bring something unconventional, it's because I want to know that there's something there I can eat without sending my blood sugar and insulin skyrocketing.
Also, if you catch me falling off the wagon, don't judge. This is hard, y'all. I've been doing this for almost 4 weeks now. It's getting easier. But I don't think it's ever going to be really easy.
Hey, I'm actually hosting book club this month. Protein shakes all around! (KIDDING. Please come to book club. We'll have something edible, I promise).
Thursday, January 05, 2012
We live in heady times, my friends.
The speed limit on the main road leading from our city to the next has just received a new speed limit sign: 40 miles per hour!
Okay, it changes right back to 35 MPH when we hit the two-lane, under-construction bit, but for one brief shining moment, we get to go almost as fast (legally) as we were all going already.
Also, Mitt Romney took the Iowa primary (by a whisker). I'm not a rabid Mitt fan, but I like him and I think he's a good choice. More power to him.
The kids are back in school, and I just finished a big freelance project writing copy for a website launch. Feels good to have that done. Now maybe I can catch up on laundry.
The weather has been insanely beautiful for January. It probably means we'll get slammed in the spring, but I'm not exactly hating the extra sunshine in such a traditionally gloomy month.
Happy New Year!
Okay, it changes right back to 35 MPH when we hit the two-lane, under-construction bit, but for one brief shining moment, we get to go almost as fast (legally) as we were all going already.
Also, Mitt Romney took the Iowa primary (by a whisker). I'm not a rabid Mitt fan, but I like him and I think he's a good choice. More power to him.
The kids are back in school, and I just finished a big freelance project writing copy for a website launch. Feels good to have that done. Now maybe I can catch up on laundry.
The weather has been insanely beautiful for January. It probably means we'll get slammed in the spring, but I'm not exactly hating the extra sunshine in such a traditionally gloomy month.
Happy New Year!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
My Christmas gift to you
I've been posting music on facebook for the 25 days of Christmas this month. Some of it is silly and fun, some of it is beautiful, some of it is just there to fill the space. But today is Christmas Eve, and I wanted to post O Holy Night, because it's my favorite Christmas song, and because Christmas Eve is a holy night.
I knew what I was looking for, but I couldn't find it. I wanted something that expressed my feelings perfectly, that didn't use cheesy cartoon pictures or weird synthesizer music. I found some good slideshows with bad music, and some bad slideshows with good music. I was even thinking of making my own slideshow out of desperation, until I remembered that I don't actually know how to do that.
Then I found this. And it was perfect.
Merry Christmas.
I knew what I was looking for, but I couldn't find it. I wanted something that expressed my feelings perfectly, that didn't use cheesy cartoon pictures or weird synthesizer music. I found some good slideshows with bad music, and some bad slideshows with good music. I was even thinking of making my own slideshow out of desperation, until I remembered that I don't actually know how to do that.
Then I found this. And it was perfect.
Merry Christmas.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Is it just me, or...
...does it seem like running an entire race only to give up at the finish line, when someone goes to all the trouble of getting out a new roll of toilet paper, but just sets it on top of the empty holder? Come on, people! Go the extra foot and put it on the holder--over the top, of course.
...does everyone in the cast of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills have exactly the same cheekbones? They all share a plastic surgeon, so I guess it makes sense--he probably buys cheeks in bulk and gives them a group discount. I caught an episode of this show for the first time the other day, and I spent the entire hour wondering which was which (and also wondering why I was watching. Two words: train wreck). It took most of the episode for me to finally tell them apart, these Stepford Barbies with all the same lips. And the same extensions, just different shades of blonde. Also, judging from their frequent catfights and rampant backbiting, none of them progressed emotionally past 9th grade.
...has December gone really fast this year? School is out now. Kids are home. We haven't had a decent snowstorm yet, and I'm not ready for Christmas. When did I become the Grinch? This is my favorite holiday, but I'm not feelin' it this year. I need some Christmas spirit, stat.
...is this a crazy season for weddings? I have four invitations on my bulletin board at the moment. I guess everyone decided to squeeze them in between semesters at college? I think this is a sign of things to come, as the huge numbers of youth in my neighborhood start reaching marriageable age all at the same time. Forget college funds, we're going to need to establish a wedding gift fund.
...are our local schools' music programs really, really good? I love attending my kids' band and choir concerts. Not for us the stereotypical student performances with squawking instruments and squeaking voices--we have amazing directors who pick amazing music, and the students really come through with the talent.
...should I quit procrastinating on my blog and get back to work? Sigh. Fine.
...does everyone in the cast of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills have exactly the same cheekbones? They all share a plastic surgeon, so I guess it makes sense--he probably buys cheeks in bulk and gives them a group discount. I caught an episode of this show for the first time the other day, and I spent the entire hour wondering which was which (and also wondering why I was watching. Two words: train wreck). It took most of the episode for me to finally tell them apart, these Stepford Barbies with all the same lips. And the same extensions, just different shades of blonde. Also, judging from their frequent catfights and rampant backbiting, none of them progressed emotionally past 9th grade.
...has December gone really fast this year? School is out now. Kids are home. We haven't had a decent snowstorm yet, and I'm not ready for Christmas. When did I become the Grinch? This is my favorite holiday, but I'm not feelin' it this year. I need some Christmas spirit, stat.
...is this a crazy season for weddings? I have four invitations on my bulletin board at the moment. I guess everyone decided to squeeze them in between semesters at college? I think this is a sign of things to come, as the huge numbers of youth in my neighborhood start reaching marriageable age all at the same time. Forget college funds, we're going to need to establish a wedding gift fund.
...are our local schools' music programs really, really good? I love attending my kids' band and choir concerts. Not for us the stereotypical student performances with squawking instruments and squeaking voices--we have amazing directors who pick amazing music, and the students really come through with the talent.
...should I quit procrastinating on my blog and get back to work? Sigh. Fine.
Tuesday, December 06, 2011
In a festive mood
I posted this on facebook, but I love it so much I'm posting it here, too. I love, love, love Christmas music. Totally makes the season for me. Enjoy!
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