Things went well for the first couple of days, but after lunch on Day 3, I felt like I’d swallowed a box and all the sharp corners were jabbing me. I went to bed. After that, I simply turned into a slug. On day 5, in the forums, I wrote:
The biggest symptom I've experienced is fatigue and mental fog. After every meal, I just want to take a nap. Then, a few hours before my next meal, my brain goes fuzzy. I think that leaves me with about two hours of vim and vigour a day! (And not together.)
It wasn’t long before I did start feeling better—quite a lot better actually. On day 7, I had a glimpse of what the whole30 could do for me:
I feel like I have an inner core of energy, an inner fire if you will that wants to be let out. When I walk, I feel like I have to hold back: my muscles cannot cope with the energy I want to express. I have felt this way losing weight before. I am an athlete, jailed inside this fat body.
I still felt great the day before my son’s birthday (Day 20):
I need to talk about how fabulous I feel. I need to shout it from the rooftops. I feel younger. I have oodles of energy. There’s pep in my step. I am happier. Lighter. Chris made a joke in the middle of my saying something to him and I got annoyed at him. He clarified. “It was a joke. What do you need?” And I said, without really thinking, “Well, obviously, a sense of humour.” He laughed. It’s so nice to hear him laugh.
But that’s when the whole thing really derailed. I decided to have a piece of birthday cake—and it turned out to be a very badidea. It was a conscious choice. I thought it was merely a choice to have a slice of birthday cake—I was not prepared, in any way, for what followed. Once again, I felt lethargic. From Sunday to Thursday I felt sleepy. My energy was low. I started feeling horribly cold. It was like going through the early days all over again. No, it was worse.
Then, on Friday, (Day 26) I got sick. I didn’t start feeling better again until Tuesday night (Day 29). My stomach hurt for four days. It was awful. There were knives in there, then rocks churning every time I tried to eat or drink something. It made me mad, too. Here I’d been, doing my best to follow this ridiculous protocol that was supposed to make me healthy—and I got sick. I never get sick! But who knows? Maybe I would have been even more sick had I not been following the protocol. Maybe it was part of the process—my gut flora reacting to the changes. In any event, I have decided to continue for another thirty days. I have some issues like my sleep and how to handle stress which I want to focus on—but honestly? Truly? I want to live every single day was a Day 7 or a Day 20. I want that ease, that hope, and that joy every day of my life. Try finding that in the bottom of a bag of potato chips! I thought not.
So, the pictures:
Workouts: I worked out 13x, some were 15-20 minute walks outside with family (5x), some were with a Leslie Sansone Video in my living room (8x). I am continuing the whole30, logging my sleep, food, activity levels and mood on my other blog, my psyche, my soma.