11.3.17

There’s an awesome quote I’m too lazy to look up. Mark Twain or someone said “I always assumed that if anything interesting was going to happen, it would happen at night.” As an inveterate night owl, this has always felt like truth to me.

I always like where I am the MOST. If I’m awake, I don’t want to go to sleep yet. If I’m asleep, I can’t bear to get up yet. If I’m writing, I don’t want to clean out the garage. (Today’s chore, and really very satisfying; I really ought to get to it.)

Among other ripples that this general situational contentment creates in my life, I’ve always stayed up way too late, and gotten up equally late. (Before I became a freelance copywriter, every boss I ever had could summon up the annual review with two statements: Please put on your shoes and please get to work on time. The last boss who said it to me was astonished when I thought about it and said “No. I’m sick of lying about it; I’m going to be barefoot and I’m going to be late. Can we dock my pay, or something?” Life is better as a freelancer.)

Where was I?

Oh – morning. By the time I finally got out of bed, I was far too late to even consider breakfast – and who needs it anyway? I have things to do that I’m late on!

That was me. A rebel. A bare-foot rebel; don’t fence me in, man.

Now I look back on this through the eyes of Chip the nutritionist at Body Dynamics, and what he’s taught me about burning fat versus burning carbohydrates.

If you burn fat, your body has a steady supply of energy all night long. You wake up fairly easily, all other things being equal, and look forward to breakfast mildly.

If you burn carbs, then you have the typical boom-and-bust cycle that comes from a fast-burning energy source. (Chip will talk about blood sugar and insulin and cortisol and I don’t know what all; this is my uneducated version.) You go to bed fine; then maybe in the middle of the night you wake up and want a midnight snack.

…or maybe you wake up in the morning filled with lethargy and need coffee RIGHT AWAY to offset it.

Some people wake up ravenous.

All three are signs that the body is craving carbs – a fast-burning high that is utterly addictive. That’s a more-more-more cycle that is not going to end well…

Of course, eating fewer carbohydrates is MUCH HARDER. It takes more time. It never comes in convenient foil-wrapped pouches for consumption on the road. It’s more expensive. Last night I made myself chicken with fresh celery and tomatoes, cooked in onions in butter. Delicious, yes – but it took time. Dirtied pans. Required attention and energy. A pizza from the fridge would have been FAR easier (and cheaper, too).

But I just spent more than two weeks on the sugar reduction diet, teaching my body to burn fat, not carbs. (And I think I can see the difference; I have a lot more energy than I used to.) And I’ll be damned if I’ll give up THAT particular lesson without a fight.

“How do I know?” I asked Chip. “What if my body goes back to burning carbs and I just don’t notice?”

Soothing Chip. WISE Chip. “Once a week, do a mini-fast of 12 to 18 hours. Have juice or something for dinner, and go to bed. When you wake up in the morning, see how you feel. Are you lethargic – or ravenous? If you are, dial back on the carbs because that means your body has gone back to old habits.”

Whether I’ve fasted or not (and I keep forgetting to do it), I now pay attention to how I feel in the morning when I first wake up. And then I make my breakfast – whole fat, no sugar organic Greek yogurt; a tablespoon of wheat germ; some fresh fruit (today six ripe strawberries); a fistful of walnuts (so tasty); and that powerhouse of zinc-y goodness, the raw pumpkin seed – a fistful and then a pinch because they make me happy.

This takes forever to put together (when compared to, say, ripping open a Pop Tart)… but it tastes so delicious.

Then the dog gets to lick the bowl. He deserves good gastrointestinal health, too.

As do we all!

A tableau! I have made a tableau – a non-copyright-infringing tableau that will anger no one! (Unless Stony Field Dairy and Kretschmer Wheat Germ get pissy about it, in which case OH COME ON!) I did NOT eat all the walnuts after taking the picture. (Well… not ALL of them.)

11.1.17

Have you seen those videos where color-blind people put on those glasses that correct their color-blindness and suddenly they can see all new colors? I cry every time, for thinking about the astonishment they must feel. Imagine being able to see NEW COLORS.

Or people with cochlear implants, who can hear all of a sudden. Yeah, like I can watch THOSE videos without blubbering.

The thought of going through your life, perfectly content and utterly capable, and then suddenly being given MORE… well, it’s sort of breath-taking.

The wizards at Body Dynamics in Falls Church, VA have apparently been hobnobbing. They all agree that my thoracic spine is, as they say, “locked down.”

(It’s because I’m lordotic – my hips tip downward. So my low back – the lumbar part – has been very flexible all my life, making up for that…and the thoracic spine (more or less all the stuff behind the rib cage) has made up for the flexibility by being rigid. See? It’s all connected. The hip bone’s connected to the… THIGH bone.)

When I walk, I can now use my abdominals to pull up my hips, relieving the pressure on the lumbar spine. But the thorax hasn’t gotten the word yet, and it’s still rigid. It’s pulling back so tightly that my rib cage pops outward. Barbara aping the way I walk is NOT flattering, but it IS highly educational.

So two days ago, I went in for my massage with Gwynn, and she said – with a real gleam in her eye – “It’s time for THORAX!”

(I love the word “thorax.” It would be a hell of a Scrabble word. But I think I’ve only come in contact with it in biology class, in a discussion of the parts of a bug’s body, and EW. But okay – I’m good with “thoracic” being based on “thorax;” I just hadn’t thought of it that way before.)

Having your back massaged is more fun than having the aductor magnus, deep in your thigh, worked on, so I greeted this plan with happiness… and then Gwynn got IN there with her fingers (and then with a probe-y wooden thing when even her super-digits couldn’t force a surrender).

“You have the ridge down your spine – that’s the [DAMNIT I’ve forgotten the term]. And then out to the sides are the transverse [word I’ve forgotten]. And in between is the lamina groove.”

Earth Wind and Fire began playing in my brain. Let’s lamina groove tonight. Share the spice of life. Trumpets and harmonies and spinning men in variously colored jump suits.

“In the lamina groove is a whole web of muscles – it’s absolutely beautiful. They let you twist and arch and bend – there’s a whole range of movement all tied into this spider’s web in this tiny groove back here.” She was digging with the wooden thing by then.

“And mine is…?”

“Oh, absolutely solid – walled in tight.” She seemed quite pleased about it, too. Gwynn likes a challenge.

When she was done, she declared, “Yeah! That’s better!” And then her fingers began doing that same thing little kids do when confronted with tangles of ribbon; she was doing that “grab and wiggle” move with real glee. “I can’t wait to see how you feel when you get up!”

Me, neither!

And then I got up, and it was – just like before.

I admitted that I felt no different, so she had me do “Cat-Dog” on the table. (I think the actual term for this is “Cat-Cow,” but “Cat-Dog” works better for me… why should I let reality interfere with my perceptions?!)

So I got on all fours and arched up as high as I could (that’s cat), and then went as swayback as I could (that’s dog, or cow depending). “Yes!” she cried. “So much better!”

“Really?”

On the way out, we passed Barbara. “Hey, Barbara – does my thorax look any different?”

“I dunno. Walk for me.”

I did; I heard them whispering. “Oh, you’re telling her to tell me it’s MUCH better.”

“Am not!”

“It IS better! Your ribs aren’t all sticking out like this!” (That was when Barbara did her impersonation of my stride.)

Today I worked out with Grace. “Thorax!” she said, the way many women say “Tiffany!” “That’s been on my list for a LONG time!”

It turns out that two days is long enough for all that disco party in the lamina groove to solidify again, so my exercises turned into passive stretching; I’m to do more of that at home every night, supporting my head with my hands and lying across the foam roller so it hits me right across the wing bones; just five breaths, and then some twists; repeat ONCE, no more.

Now that I’m aware that I have a thorax – and that it apparently doesn’t bend – I’m wondering. If you discovered your spine was supposed to bend in a way that it hadn’t before, and people told you they could GET it to do that… wouldn’t that be an astonishing gift?

I’m feeling that lamina groove!

That’s Earth, Wind, and Fire in the photo, of course. Used without permission, but if you go download “Let’s Groove,” then maybe they’ll forgive me.