Three Days

Three days of feeding my body.

Three days of being normal.

Three days of planning for – and deeply enjoying – my dessert without guilt.

Three days isn’t much, but it’s big in my world.

Did I mention the Chocolate Halo Top is just heavenly after a sixty minute adventure on the stairmaster? Because it’s lovely, lovely, lovely.

I woke up early today (potty break – too much water in the day) and, since I was strangely awake, I went for a run …and, sort of like Forrest Gump, I sort of kept going just because I felt like it. Almost 12 miles! Just a tiny bit short. I felt so tired, but it was a GOOD tired, and after a shower, I was motivated for work even more than normal.

Shockingly, even 16 hours later, I still feel well-rested and energized. I guess fueling your body right – not over or under feeding it – really does optimize it.

 

I feel strong. I will love myself again, and I’ll do it three days at a time. 🙂

Bon appetit, my friends.

~ Tori

Meal Delivery, Week One

On Sunday, I began my quest to regain control of my eating disorder (and return to a healthy body image and weight) by utilizing a meal delivery service.

I selected Dine N Ditch, a locally-based company that caters to athletes and busy, working-adults who care about clean eating and overall wellness.

I signed up for the 6oz meal plan, which consists of five meals per day, six days per week (30 total), with one day scheduled for “normal eating.”

Dine N Ditch delivers every Saturday morning (between 9am and 12pm) and Wednesday afternoon (free of charge), right to your house.

One of my main issues with meal-planning is the repetition, but I have to admit right off the bat that this will not be an issue with Dine & Ditch. Every three days I’m provided with a totally different menu and never have to repeat the same meal more than three times in three days.

For example, this was my menu for Sunday-Tuesday:

  • Crustless Egg Quiches (mini-muffins) with turkey sausage and herbs.
  • Grilled Mexican Chicken with carrots and fresh pico de gallo.
  • Roasted chicken with homemade pesto and sauteed zucchini.
  • Baked cod with cream sauce and sauteed green beans.
  • Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, and carrots with mushroom gravy.

Every dish is gluten-free and they’re a pork free (and shellfish free) kitchen! As someone with a pork allergy, this is a big deal to me. I never have to worry about cross-contamination with Dine N Ditch, which is a huge worry off of my plate.

And did I mention the food is incredible?

Not too shabby!

Each meal is between 250-350 calories, has 25-35g protein, and is under 25g carbs (maximum).

But here’s the real kicker: the meals are so filling and satisfying, I haven’t been able to eat all five in a day! In fact, I’ve managed to save one meal each day since Sunday, so I actually won’t need to worry about taking a “cheat day,” as I still have three meals leftover that I’ve frozen to use later.

With eating four meals per day (roughly 1000 calories), I’ve given myself a 200 calorie allowance to be human – which I’m using daily with a piece of raw chocolate (under 50 calories) and a spoon or two of almond butter (between 90-180 calories) so I don’t go crazy and binge later.

So, how am I doing so far?

Monday, 4/25 Weight: 143.6

Today (Wednesday, 4/27): 141.0.

Already 2.6 lbs down in two days? Not too shabby.

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

A Confession and a Commitment

I have spent the last few months making excuses [to myself] for not posting on here. Lots of excuses.

“No one cares what I have to say.”

“There are more important things I should be working on.”

“No one reads this blog anyhow.”

“Blogging doesn’t really help me.”

Ultimately, though, I wasn’t posting on here for one main reason:

I’m embarrassed.

Why? Because I slipped. And not a little …I slipped right off the damn cliff.

I went from my all-time low weight (123.4 lbs back in June 2014), up to 132-133 in Summer 2015, to a whopping 143.4 as of Monday, April 25th, 2016.

I’m back over 140 lbs for the first time in almost four years.

I let my eating disorder take back over. Except, instead of my usual bulimia, it manifested itself as pure binge-eating, subsequently followed by hours at the gym.

While I realize 143.4 lbs doesn’t seem like much compared to the 218 lbs I used to weight, I have gained the weight while continuing to exercise 2 to 3 hours per day 6 to 7 days per week.

I understand nutrition and understand the logic behind eating healthy, and I will eat healthy for several days, and then I uncontrollably binge on food, even foods I’m not a fan of.

There are days I will eat three or 4-to-5000 calories and I can’t seem to make myself stop.

Unlike my teenage years, though, instead of purging with laxatives or vomiting, I tried to work out to burn it back off.

I’ve spent entire days at the gym.

I’ve called out of work the day after a bad binge and spent a solid eight hours on the elliptical and stairmaster trying to undo the damage of my binging. Which, as you know, isn’t really realistic. Unless you are an Olympic athlete, you cannot work off over eating or bad diet.

I watched the scale slowly creep up, the pants get tighter (and eventually stop fitting), and I kept making excuses for myself, refusing to admit I’d lost control to my ED again.

How did this happen? How did I lose my footing?

I’m in a bad head space right now because I can’t stand seeing myself self-sabotage with diet when I work so hard to eat well and exercise. It’s like a tiny part of me is trying to destroy everything I’ve worked so hard to achieve, and that part of me shovels in food while the rest cries helplessly in the corner.

Fortunately, I’ve stopped lying to myself.

This week, I signed up for a meal delivery service to help me get me back to a healthy relationship with food. Five meals per day, six days per week — all prepared and catered to a healthy, clean lifestyle.

It’s a small step toward fixing the damage I’ve caused, but I’m hoping it will help me be more cognizant of portions, of my true motivator for binges, and it will take away my ability to count calories or stress over ingredients, as everything will be made for me.

I’ll try to post daily as I work to take back control of my weight, my health, and my life.

Bon appetit, my friends,

Tori

 

Almost 2016

It has been several weeks since I posted on here, and several months since I posted with any regularity.

I’ll admit, 2015 has been a rough year for me in regards to my weight, but it has been a beautiful year in almost every other way.

I decided sometime around late August to stop worrying about my weight -which was climbing steadily despite ardent (translation: OBSESSIVE) exercise and dieting- and instead focus on enjoying my day-to-day LIFE. You know the old adage about a “watched pot never boils,” right? Well, I was watching that pot like a hawk, and it was lukewarm (and growing colder by the moment), so it was time to step out of the kitchen.

That being said, I didn’t stop caring about my health. God, no. Exercise has and will always be a part of my adult life: it’s my daily stress relief and something I do just for myself.

I’ve continued working out and trying to eat well, but I’ve stopped beating myself up after every cheat. I’ve also let myself indulge way more than normal, and it has been downright glorious. Chocolate and red wine have been in good company in my belly for several months.

Yes, my weight is up. As of this morning, I’m back up to 137.8, a weight I haven’t touched in over three years. This time last year, I was swinging from 124-127, so this is a big jump, and I’m not denying I can see it on more than just the scale. This Yo-Yo has some dough-dough, and it’s mostly sitting on her butt and hips (a first, honestly, since it used to all gather in my belly).

That being said, not watching the scale –and not letting my weight dictate my emotions– has been a beautiful, freeing adventure. And, surprisingly, it really didn’t cause much damage. At least, not as much as I expected.

I thought when I gave up weighing in daily, religiously using my GymPact and MyFitnessPal, and posting here, my weight would spiral out of control. I figured I’d be over 145 lbs by now.

Looking at the day of my last weigh in – the day I decided to “unplug” from my obsession almost four months ago – I am happy to say I’m only three pounds heavier on the scale. Huh. Three pounds heavier, but emotionally lighter than I’ve been in years.

That being said, instead of setting a New Year’s Resolution to eat healthier or lose weight, this year I want to focus on accomplishing goals. I want to run a 10k in March, a half Marathon in November, and a marathon in December.

I’ve already registered for two of the three races, and will register for the third as soon as registration opens in the Spring. I’m putting my money where my mouth is on this one.

Starting the week of the 4th, I’ll begin a running program to train for distance running. I won’t worry about my weight; I’ll focus on my breathing, my stamina, and my distance. I won’t worry about my pant size, but rather the soreness in my muscles and the strength in each leg.

While 2015 was about letting go, 2016 will just be about GO.

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

P.S. Isn’t my mother-in-law beautiful? The picture is of her and I on Christmas Eve at my house. We’re so in-sync, we dress to match on accident.

Sleep is the Cure

For the past two weeks, I’ve been on a “normal” schedule.

And by normal, I mean I have not balanced two full-time jobs and graduate school simultaneously. I’ve worked just ONE full time job and attended my two graduate classes, which has allowed me to do something I hadn’t done in nearly a year:

SLEEP.

Not nap, but SLEEP. Full, deep, nightly sleep.

For two whole weeks, I’ve averaged no less than six hours of sleep per night. Last night, I got a solid eight hours. EIGHT HOURS!

compute

My mind doesn’t even know how to grasp the concept of “eight hours of sleep.”

Now that I’m well rested, I’ve found controlling my appetite to be substantially easier. Yes, I’m still working to get over the sugar cravings (seriously, I’d created a severe addiction the last nine months while working at the TV studio), but I can control my portions and stop after a few bites (versus the murdurous rampage I’d go in before, like a shark smelling blood in the water).

hate

Seriously, this was my life for the entirety of the last year balancing the two jobs. I had -100% will power.

I’ve also noticed my skin is nearly perfect again, no pimples or dark spots from lack of sleep and raging hormone fluctuations. Woohoo! I’m no longer the pubescent 30-year-old!

I’ve been hitting the gym 5-6x per week, not because I need to, but because I want to. I’m energetic and excited, so I feel even more motivated to exercise than I did before.

I have NOT been weighing myself (I’m trying to allow my body to get back into a healthy food/sleep cycle again before I tackle weight concerns), but I can feel my clothing getting back to its normal fit: loose where it should be, not as constrictive as it was just a few weeks ago.

Huh.

Funny.

Sleep truly was the cure to most of my problems.

Appetite control? In check now that I’m not a walking zombie.
Skin problems? All gone.
Lack of energy? Nope, not anymore. I’m high on life.
Cranky? Depressed? Amazingly, I feel like I’m happier now than I’ve been in years.

While I absolutely miss working at The Daily Buzz, I have to admit that I was sacrificing a lot –too much, honestly– and I finally feel like I’ve got my life back.

On that note… bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

I’m Alive!

For anyone that follows my blog with any consistency, you’ve probably noticed the sudden – and unannounced – silence.

First things first: I’m totally OK!

No melt downs, no binge/purge episodes, nothing.

I’m totally fine.

After weeks upon weeks of my Daily Accountability Reports (sharing with the world EVERY bite of food I ate and exercise I completed), I realized that I needed a few days off to give my brain a break.

I needed to take a few days of NOT tracking what I ate and letting my body tell me what it wanted again. Any time I catch myself becoming obsessive with something, I try to put the brakes on quickly: it’s very easy for me to slip back into my old behaviors. If I obsess too much about my food log or my gym attendance, I’ll start to let that cloying guilt sink in… you know, that weighted pain in the back of your mind that tells you each bite you take is BAD, BAD, BAD.

The moment I start to sense the voice returning, I do whatever I need to do to shut it down. FAST.

In this case, as I was writing my Thursday Night Accountability report, I could hear that voice again… it was mocking me as I typed. It was reading my food log over my shoulder, criticizing every snack. It laughed at my measly 45 minutes at the gym, and it made me feel guilty.

That’s when I realized I needed a short reprieve from the accountability reports.

Don’t worry – I’m still alive, positive, and kicking butts. 🙂 More posts to come!

T-Minus 10 days until my Dirty Thirty Birthday!

Bon appetit, my friends!

~ Tori

Slipped

I didn’t post my Weigh-in Wednesday update yesterday. You may or may not have noticed.

Why?

I slipped.

I went on a binge for the first time in several weeks.

Yes, I’ve over-eaten junk food several times in the past month, but I’d always maintained control. I stopped myself. I splurged and then regained composure.

Last night, I didn’t stop.

Screen Shot 2013-12-05 at 11.30.57 AM

I couldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop.

I started innocently. Healthy. A piece of salmon. Some cheese.

Then beer. Chips. Cookies. Chocolate.

I couldn’t stop shoving food into my mouth. My stomach growled, my brain roared. My husband came home during the middle of my binge. Normally, that snaps me out of it.

This time, I kept eating.

He asked me if I was hungry.

“No.”

He asked me why I kept eating if I wasn’t hungry.

“I don’t know.”

He suggested I eat some baby carrots – they would fill me up and I wouldn’t feel guilty.

I went into the bathroom to shove cookies into my mouth.

I finally stopped around midnight, not because I was full, but because I had run out of accessible junk food. The only options left were apples, carrots, celery … not the satisfaction you want during an episode.

My husband, confused (and likely disgusted), took our puppies for a walk while I sulked on the couch. When I was sure he was gone, I slipped into the medicine cabinet and pulled out my hidden supply of laxatives. I’ve told him, and everyone else, that I don’t buy them anymore.

(There is a box hidden in my car. Another in the kitchen.)

One pill? Three?

FIFTEEN.

Fifteen small, pink pills. Fifteen guarantees of pain, of redemption. Fifteen annular gifts, each promising to purge my stomach and my soul.

The pain this morning was unbearable. Knife in the stomach, tearing a burning path into my lower intestines. Cramps, exaggerated by dehydration, crippled my abdomen. It feels as if you’re slowly digesting a belly full of razor blades. You can feel the acid churning.

I sat in a hot bath at 4:30 in the morning. I prayed, vows of lies and false promises.

“God, if you make this pain go away, I promise I won’t binge again.”

“I swear I’ll throw the box of laxatives away.”

“I will start fresh tomorrow. I will eat right. I will exercise. I will take care of myself.”

“I promise to love the body you’ve given me.”

Each lie, greater than the last.

The pain subsided, a combination of warm water and 800 mg of ibuprofen, and I climbed back into bed, damp and despondent.

My husband slept, my puppies snored, and I cried.

It wasn’t until 8am that the true effect of the pills kicked in and, despite the previous hours of suffering, I couldn’t help but smile when the scale consigned a loss.

Laxatives: 1, Scale: 0

Self-Esteem: -1,000,000.

~ Tori

  • Slips (thewavesofrecovery.wordpress.com)