moth
Fri, Jan-25-08, 15:37
I am not new to this site, but I have never written an introduction for myself. Or maybe, I did, but it's been years now. However, today, I not only feel compelled to introduce myself, but to also tell a story of my years learning to eat a low carbohydrate diet.
The first symptoms of PCOS appeared when I was 11. When I look back at old photos, it's striking just how apple-shaped I have always been. Going through puberty with insulin resistance has left its mark both inside and outside of my body. It took 16 years to get a proper diagnosis of PCOS. My body always spoke to me, such that when I ate sugar, it would react badly. But things have a way of compounding themselves, and carrying around this unattractive exterior sent me to the ice cream freezer more times than I care to remember.
Fast forward a few years, and you find me with my life under control. My weight is down, I have a schedule that allows me to exercise every day. And though I have a very stressful job, I choose to combat the stress with healthy rather than destructive choices. I meet a man, fall in love and become pregnant. I have gestational diabetes, but I don't know it. In fact, the GD is not diagnosed until after my second child, when I am seeking medical help for this phenomenal post-pregnancy weight gain and some very new (and bad) aches and pains.
At the time, I had good health insurance. All the tests are run, but nothing shows up a true diagnosis except an MRI. Doctor prescribes a low carbohydrate diet and metformin. In that year, I lose almost 50 pounds. I feel better and actually become a jogger for the first time in my life.
But then, we move. A year later, we move again. Two years go by and I am still struggling to stay on a low carbohydrate diet. Because I begin displaying symptoms of anemia, I go off metformin. I suppose I should be grateful that it took over three years for the 50lbs to creep back on, but fat is fat is fat. Yuck.
The lesson I have learned from reflecting on this story is that changing the way I eat is DIFFICULT. This is literally unwinding 30-something years of accrued habits. I've come to believe that in the same way we define ourselves by other likes and dislikes, we also -- to some lesser degree -- define ourselves by the food we prefer. In this and other ways, changing your "WOE" is very much like culture shock. Every little tedious thing that I'd long since filed away in the back of my mind, as our ever-so-efficient brains will do, has to be re-evaluated. This is hard. It is stressful.
I have fallen off the wagon dozens of times. But I keep getting back onto it. With a family history of diabetes and heart disease, really I have no choice. Each time I climb back on the wagon, it gets a little bit easier and I can stay on just a little bit longer. There is no small amount of coping with shame, to be sure. On the days when I'm doing particularly well, I feel so good that I just shake my head, wondering why in the world I'd ever reach for a slice of cake. But I am human (and I have a birthday).
Following the posts on this site, it seems that for some people, this WOE is easy. For others, it is impossible. Just like anything else. I know some really good accountants who love their jobs, and I find the very idea of doing their job wholly abhorrent. And even in my own profession, there are days when I make good choices and days when I make bad ones. People say, "That's life." Because it's a mystery. And this happens with dieting, too. I think this is partly the reason why folks on this forum say WOE instead of DIET.
So I fall off the wagon, but never once do I believe that "low carb doesn't work." I know it does because my body is telling me so. Like anyone, I really wish to be thinner, sure... but as I age, it seems less important to me than controlling my blood sugar.
Thanks for letting me get all sappy on you. Happy 2008!
The first symptoms of PCOS appeared when I was 11. When I look back at old photos, it's striking just how apple-shaped I have always been. Going through puberty with insulin resistance has left its mark both inside and outside of my body. It took 16 years to get a proper diagnosis of PCOS. My body always spoke to me, such that when I ate sugar, it would react badly. But things have a way of compounding themselves, and carrying around this unattractive exterior sent me to the ice cream freezer more times than I care to remember.
Fast forward a few years, and you find me with my life under control. My weight is down, I have a schedule that allows me to exercise every day. And though I have a very stressful job, I choose to combat the stress with healthy rather than destructive choices. I meet a man, fall in love and become pregnant. I have gestational diabetes, but I don't know it. In fact, the GD is not diagnosed until after my second child, when I am seeking medical help for this phenomenal post-pregnancy weight gain and some very new (and bad) aches and pains.
At the time, I had good health insurance. All the tests are run, but nothing shows up a true diagnosis except an MRI. Doctor prescribes a low carbohydrate diet and metformin. In that year, I lose almost 50 pounds. I feel better and actually become a jogger for the first time in my life.
But then, we move. A year later, we move again. Two years go by and I am still struggling to stay on a low carbohydrate diet. Because I begin displaying symptoms of anemia, I go off metformin. I suppose I should be grateful that it took over three years for the 50lbs to creep back on, but fat is fat is fat. Yuck.
The lesson I have learned from reflecting on this story is that changing the way I eat is DIFFICULT. This is literally unwinding 30-something years of accrued habits. I've come to believe that in the same way we define ourselves by other likes and dislikes, we also -- to some lesser degree -- define ourselves by the food we prefer. In this and other ways, changing your "WOE" is very much like culture shock. Every little tedious thing that I'd long since filed away in the back of my mind, as our ever-so-efficient brains will do, has to be re-evaluated. This is hard. It is stressful.
I have fallen off the wagon dozens of times. But I keep getting back onto it. With a family history of diabetes and heart disease, really I have no choice. Each time I climb back on the wagon, it gets a little bit easier and I can stay on just a little bit longer. There is no small amount of coping with shame, to be sure. On the days when I'm doing particularly well, I feel so good that I just shake my head, wondering why in the world I'd ever reach for a slice of cake. But I am human (and I have a birthday).
Following the posts on this site, it seems that for some people, this WOE is easy. For others, it is impossible. Just like anything else. I know some really good accountants who love their jobs, and I find the very idea of doing their job wholly abhorrent. And even in my own profession, there are days when I make good choices and days when I make bad ones. People say, "That's life." Because it's a mystery. And this happens with dieting, too. I think this is partly the reason why folks on this forum say WOE instead of DIET.
So I fall off the wagon, but never once do I believe that "low carb doesn't work." I know it does because my body is telling me so. Like anyone, I really wish to be thinner, sure... but as I age, it seems less important to me than controlling my blood sugar.
Thanks for letting me get all sappy on you. Happy 2008!