Fall, Fatigue, Fitness and (self) Flagellation

The last few days I've been musing on seasonal weight gain (or swag, as I like to call it). I put on weight around this time last year, so it does feel cyclical. But to what extent is my behavior the governing factor, and how much is sheer physiology-- this primal reaction to cold and darkness and the fading energy all around me? I think the only way to make it through this without too much (self) flagellation is to acknowledge what I'm working with/up against.

• Fall. The change of seasons is, I think, significant. Colder weather sends signals (be they conscious or not) to bundle up, to hunkerdown, to get a little padding on for the cold months ahead. I am uncertain of the extent to which my body follows this lead and adjusts metabolism, etc. accordingly. If I were a robot and only ate the exact same thing every day, exercised the exact same amount (and intensity), then we might have an answer. But alas, I'm variable.
• Fatigue. Along with the shorter days and the cold, there's a slowing down. Couple this with being tremendously exhausted from the last, oh, six months of overworking, and I'm tired. I still ride all those miles each week, but my tendency to push hard has faded. I'm moving slower. I'll also admit that exhaustion has led to some poor food choices, to a drop in the vigilance that is my relationship to eating well/healthfully.
• Fitness. No, I haven't been downing tubs of bon-bons. So I'm also curious about how fitness plays into this, as I'm also in better shape than I was a year ago. I'm wondering if maintaining my level of fitness requires constant pushing. It would make sense that after a year of cycling 45 minutes (which has turned into 35) into work, the exertion required in that period has diminished. Simply put, I may not be trying as hard as I did a year ago. Since I really can't ride much faster (safety and fatigue are issues), increasing mileage might be an answer. That's once the fatigue fades.
• (self)Flagellation. Perhaps the biggest challenge of all is to not beat myself up over all of this. Sure, I'd like to be in my ideal range all year 'round, but how feasible is that? What can I do that's nurturing and constructive with all this information? I can remain conscious, but will I feel continual disappointment if the scale isn't where I want it? Will I feel tired of having to work so hard, to remain conscious, to put out the extra effort when I already feel so damn tired ( and inattentive, I might add)?

Last winter I gave myself an extra 5 pounds to work with. I acknowledged that this might just be part of the annual cycle, and sure enough, when spring and summer came, I didn't need it anymore. I'll likely do the same thing this year-- that means I still need to watch it-- but finding a level my body can maintain and struggling against myself when my body is tired and resistant are two different things.

Here's to finding--- you guessed it-- balance.

- a day

Hi.

Hi Hi hi.

This is the first blog I've written in, what, about six weeks? Life's been like that. I hit a HARD wall at the end of September, hard enough that it knocked me back a long way and I had a difficult time getting up. A stupid typo at work became the last straw--nay, club--and I beat myself senselessly with it until I finally had to scream ENOUGH at the top of my lungs and take a leave from work. I flew to Montana. I spent a week in the Bitterroot with my dear friends the Malos and then I went north to the Moiese valley, right on the Flathead River, and spent a week on a egg farm. Talk about recalibrating one's perspective. Holy chicken shit.

Heartland Farm is approx. 19 miles from the nearest gas station, a million miles from home (or so it seemed), smack dab in the center of the Flathead Indian reservation. I spent my days listening to cocks crow every minute, watching the river flow from the windows of an old farm-house-converted-to-a-newer-house-but-still-in-need-of-loads-of-work...I would take an egg from a Plenty Coop or C. Everett Coop (all of them have pun-y names), walk in the house, fry it up. I would pick chard and kale greens from the garden, go inside, steam them up. I waltzed up and down the withering rows of tomatoes and peppers and ate my way from one end of the garden to the other. I sat by the river and watched Corabelle (one of the farm dogs) drink the turquoise water. A bald eagle came and rested on a snag just downriver from my little camp. I read the entirety of David Sedaris' Dress My Family in Corduroy and Denim and covered my mouth when I laughed aloud, like I would be disturbing someone with my guffaw. But there was no one. Not a soul alive, it seemed, save for the dogs and the cows who grazed on a bench across the river from my little "camp." I've spent a great deal of time in Montana, but never had I been somewhere that pristine, that wild.

Have you ever seen eggs straight from the coop? Absolutely beautiful. Shades of every color you can imagine: blues, greens, soft pinks and peaches. I wanted to wear a string of eggs around my neck. I fell in love with their shape, their texture, their hues.

I returned to Denver feeling rejuvenated and hopeful. This was of vital importance. When I finally returned to work, I felt like I could actually do my job again. I wasn't resentful of it. I didn't wish I was someplace else. Besides, I'd missed S. something awful and I really really wanted to be in her arms again. The safest place I know.

So now it's more than 5 months since my diagnosis of VN. I just recovered from a nasty bout of iritis too. They're weaning me off the steroid eye drops this week. Thank goodness that's all over. What a pain in the...eye.

I still suffer from the symptoms of VN but now it's just when I've worked too much or driven too much or I'm tired. I get woozy, car sick, unable to focus. I've learned that, when I feel these things, I just have to STOP. This is still not an easy task. I don't nap. I think napping is for people who don't have anything better to do. I always wake up cranky. But I'm learning, at least, to slow down a bit. I might even learn to nap better. Stranger things have happened.

The hardest part of all of this, outside of the obvious frustrations that accompany such a protracted illness, has been that I've barely exercised in five months. The weight I lost in April? It found me again. I tried every disguise but to no avail. I still fear the scale. My clothes are tight. I yearn to ride a bike again. I saw my trainer last Friday and told her I'd be calling her. I hate hate hate the thought of starting over AGAIN but that's just the way it has to be. When you spend so many days immobile, you gain a new appreciation for things like (yes! it's true!) exercise. I see myself sweating it out on the elliptical. I can almost feel the sweat forming a pool in my cleavage and it's a good thing. By December 1 I hope to be back to it full throttle. Or at least third gear.

But today. Today I'm thinking of my 96 year old grandmother who is, at this very moment, in surgery to repair a spiral fracture of the femur. She fell yesterday and today she's having a rod and pins put in her leg. This is the same leg that got a new knee four years ago. My grandmother is a tough broad, but lately she's had trouble getting around -- she gets winded, and she's got stenosis in her right leg, which causes her foot to fall asleep. Her heart is tired. Can anyone blame it? 96 years is a long time to beat.

I can only sit here and wait for the call from my family. I pray that Grams makes it through this. A long road of recovery awaits her. So many things could go wrong, but she's made it this far, so I'm looking on the bright side. She was always the only one who supported me unconditionally--and the only other Democrat in my family besides me--two rafts in a sea of rabid Republicans. She was a feminist before the word was even invented.

I love you so much Grams. Hang in there.

that would be homEostasis

lately it's been cold by Seattle standards-- the other morning I set out in 33' of damp (but not rain). By no means scantily clad (wool knee socks, three layers up top, including Capilene [3!]), I found myself wanting to ride faster in order to get out of the cold, but feeling sluggish in the quads from the chilly air all around me. Two nights ago I found myself lingering at the end of my shift because I didn't want to head out into the cold again.

I like cold. Not as much as 83' and sunny, mind you, but I appreciate crisp fall weather, what it does to the leaves, and the sense that things are winding down. What I'm unsettled by is my seemingly endless appetite for carbs and meat and did I mention carbs in the form of sugar? Yes, that. Me no likey that so much, especially since it sends me up to the realm of Average American Flatulence. I don't want to be average.

So tonight I'm doing something that I haven't done in a very long time: I'm writing out a menu for the week. Although I had a dream the other night that all my problems would be solved by cutting out dairy (this had been scrawled on a scrap of paper in my dream), I won't be going vegan. I will be making some choices around warming, clean, seasonal foods. And ye, though the cheese drawer is filled to the gills, I might steer clear of it for a few days, in the name of being, well, less average.

I think my body is trying to get a good winter coat on for all the (impending) cold. For my part, I'm gonna dress even warmer. And did you know that old knee socks, cut at the toes, make fantastic arm-warmers? They really do.