On Getting My Ass Kicked by Cookies

cookies

I kind of like to think of myself as a tough broad. Like, the type that manages to kick the villain’s ass in high heeled boots and leather pants, which is definitely not what those clothing items are intended for but tends to happen in like, every action movie. Somehow that makes it more badass. I like to reference my fighting days in conversation, because “I fought an entire fight with a sprained wrist” just sounds good rolling off the tongue. I don’t mind being strong. Scrapes and cuts just create battle wounds. Builds character. Et cetera.

But the fact that I have been getting my ass kicked by gluten-full baked goods for the last seven or so weeks is laughable, or even embarrassing. Picturing myself getting punched by a cookie… Not particularly glamorous. Or badass.

In all seriousness, I feel like I am a case study for the effects of gluten. Obviously, gluten may not impact everybody as it’s impacting me—I have a definite gluten sensitivity and the gene for celiac, meaning questionable celiac disease. But if you’re going to try and tell me that those things don’t exist, or that food can’t treat illness, or that how you eat doesn’t impact your success as a human being—try again.

I am lethargic. I am fucking exhausted. I am breaking out. I’m pale and achy. It’s not just the nausea and the digestive field day that I’m having, and that I’m waking up in pain every day again—it’s all the other things. It’s hard to focus. I’m moodier. I gained weight like I haven’t in my entire life. And it’s keeping me from working out.

By intentionally fucking with my body, I’m able to see how big an impact food actually has.

And I am grumpy. I am hella grumpy. Not just because I’m feeling like crap, but because running, and working out in general, has become really, really difficult.

So this morning I had an endoscopy—nothing huge, just put me under for twenty minutes and took some biopsies of my throat and intestines and some really gorgeous pictures that I’m thinking about framing—and today I have eaten the best that I have since the beginning of October. No gluten. No dairy. I had eggs and mushrooms and guacamole for breakfast; salmon, broccoli, cauliflower and spaghetti squash for dinner. (I napped off the anesthesia for three hours this afternoon, hence why I skipped lunch.) I’ve also had some frozen lemonade pops to soothe my throat because it’s sore, but at least they’re better than ice cream. To be honest, food tastes better than the crazy indulgent meals I’ve had lately, maybe because I know it’s GOOD for me, as well as tasting good.

I’m interested to see how quickly the acne goes away, if I have more energy, if my moods change. I took some “before” photos, not because I particularly want to post them, but because I’m interested in seeing how they compare to how I’ll look “after” I get back to a normal pattern of working out.

I have never been so excited to lift. I have never been so excited to run.

Thank god this is over.

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