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Whole 30: whole lot of pain or whole lot of yumminess? Part 5

Day thirty-one: Whoops! There was a whole process to reintroducing the non-compliant foods back into my diet? Oh bugger! I had forgotten about that bit. In one day, I had cancelled out all the gut detoxing of the past thirty days. No big deal. I’ll do the Whole 30 again and do the reintroduction properly in thirty-one days time. So… I did. Not a difficult decision when the bunch of carrots swung in front of me included: being at home (sigh), weight loss (six kilos), clear skin (no leprosy aka egg allergy blisters), more energy (so much should not be legal for one 50+ woman), no joint pain (tennis elbow is for cry-babies), working taste buds (still bouncing and singing), a love affair with unprocessed foods, and a folder full of recipes for delectable delights. 

Twelve months later, and you guessed it; she’s back on the Whole 30, this time with the whole household and some family members in Melbourne. We have a group on Messenger where we swap recipes and support each other. Jeanella’s ‘Ta Jean’ sweet potato and butternut pumpkin tagine (sans any actual tagine) has become a staple and some of my son’s contributions have become all-time favourite recipes: braised sirloin steak, pork rashers, chicken nicoise stew… drool drool drool. 

Now, more often than not, my meals are compliant. I rarely eat dairy, sugar, grains or legumes – other than lentils, as my dahl is delicious Darling (and it assists my bowels to perform unplugged). I brew my own kombucha and have 250ml servings when I feel the need for some acidity. And my relationship with alcohol has changed for the better. I’ll have the occasional gin – a top quality gin, of course – with cold tap water, no ice and no condiments. (Professional bar staff appreciate this order. Unprofessional bar staff screw their faces up, ask numerous times ‘are ya sure ya jus’ wan’ gin ‘n warda? From tha tap?’ and will nudge their fellow bar staffers whilst rolling their eyes heavenward before putting the drink on the bar.) A good gin needs no company, I say.

Below are actual entries from my Whole 30 Journal, which I kept for the first six days. (The names are changed to protect myself from the wrath of the actual persons.) I sigh with relief when I read this journal. Hindsight: what a wonderful 20/20 visioned thing! I fully recommend doing the Whole 30 when you are at home with your supportive, loved ones around you for the 30-40 days, as doing the Whole 30 when you’re aboard an emotional rollercoaster is not for the faint-hearted! Though, fear not; I have since recovered to live and learn a great deal more about everything (no future blog spoilers here…). 

My Whole 30 learnings are: 
* If possible, do it with others who are motivated and/or know what’s involved.
* Always have compliant food ready. (The urge to eat sneaks up stealthily.)
* Always have compliant food with you. (A bag full of things in the car: I was caught hangry and foodless in the vehicle a couple of times. The nail and teeth marks are still on the steering wheel and door.)
* Always check the labels. (Sugar or wheat or soy is in most packaged foods.)
* Always eat three substantial compliant meals a day. (Try not to snack.)
* Always eat a protein with each meal.
* Stay at son’s place for prepped compliant meals: so worth the dollars. (No, you cannot stay at my son’s place, but thanks for asking.)

Your body will tell you what foods work for it and, if you listen (and do the Whole 30 reintroduction correctly), it will tell what foods do not work for it. And, hopefully, you will not contract leprosy.

P.S. I still have some of the fish sauce, sauerkraut, pickled cucumbers, pickled kale, raw seeds, dirt, the word ‘compliant’ and a taste for cocomino from that first visit to the special boutique wholefoods grocery store.

Day One (Monday 8 January 2018)
Breaky: Two eggs, smoked salmon, mixed nuts (except peanuts)
Lunch: salad of cos leaves, alfalfa sprouts, asparagus, carrot, tomatoes, tuna and orange segments. (Yum)
Dinner: Handful of mixed nuts and seeds at 6, sweet potato tagine (very late, after 9pm); Jeanella made it W30 with pumpkin (no chickpeas, rice, yoghurt or honey: checked).
Kombucha and water throughout the day.
Shit day because of moving Miss X but stuck to it: can do anything if can do W30 during a day like today!

Day Two (Tuesday 9 January 2018)
Breaky: Nuts, salmon, boiled egg, salad
Lunch: nuts, salad
Dinner: slow cooked chicken curry and cauliflower rice
Kombucha and water throughout the day.
Another shit day because of moving Miss X but stuck to it. Caught up with Miss H, took computer in and test drove and bought Doug. Again, can do anything if can do W30 during a day like today.

Day Three (Wednesday 10 January 2018)
Breaky: fried (in coconut oil) eggs x 2, ham and tomatoes
Lunch: salad, nuts, apricots
Dinner: made sweet potato tagine (no tagine in sight) with pumpkin and roast potato pieces.
Kombucha: none today. I don’t think my body likes the fermented stuff or maybe it’s the carbonate added to it – shall test that out.
Had a quiet day starting with a walk on the beach and swim with Miss J, sending pics of Miss X’s new place to her, paying the storage place, watching Guardians of the Galaxy, snoozing and playing cards with Ms A, Mr M and Miss H. Getting annoyed – could it be W30 or period or both or plain old annoyed?

Day Four (Thursday 11 January 2018)
Breaky: nuts, apricots, mango
Lunch: left over sweet potato no tagine
Dinner: steak, salad, boiled potato
Kombucha: had some after 5pm and felt crap by 8:30pm. Hmmm… Jeanella’s brew was okay because it wasn’t carbonated. Making my own.
Picked up Doug and drove her down to Miss X, who then drove me to Miss H’s, lunch at Miss H’s, drove back to the coast, played cards with Miss H and Mr M. Thought Ms A was bringing in a bag of chips and my mouth salivated: it wasn’t chips but interesting reaction. Went to bed feeling very ordinary. Again I found I was annoyed: is it W30, or that people are eating and drinking non-compliant stuff around me when I’m not partaking, or period, or smugness, or a bloody shit couple of days? Weird!

Day Five (Friday 12 January 2018)
Break: nuts, apricots, mango
Snack: nuts
Lunch: left over sweet potato no tagine
Dinner: nuts, nuts, nuts, currants, nuts, olives and nuts! Started eating at 4pm, finished at 5:30-6.
Went to the beach for a walk, swim and puppy fix. Gah! It’s official. I’m hot, tired, cranky, overly-sensitive and annoyed. Time to go home to hubby. Housesitting son and partner’s house and staying Sunday night with them. Went to see 9:45am session of The Greatest Showman on Earth: great movie, great songs and lovely that it moved the lady sitting next to me to tears. Went to Roads to do Doug transfer and it’s too early, need to do it next week. Packed and said I’d be back up the coast on Sunday to beach walk, Cotton Tree market and go see a movie. Call from Mr R complaining about Miss X (already): jeepers that girl doesn’t learn. Time to swoop in, wave the magic wand and toughen up. No more Mrs Nice Chick methinks. Miss my computer 🙁

Day Six (Saturday 13 January 2018)
Breaky: carrot, eggs x 2, tomato, ham fried in olive oil
Lunch: potatoes x 2 microwaved and baked
Dinner: potatoes x 2 boiled and baked
Lazy day by myself watching TV after a hot, restless night, air cond. on, napped, spoke to Ms Pat, hubby and son. Am super emotional and am super itchy with the little blister things that have been popping up since Monday: may be eggs? Having potatoes (carbs) to see if that helps, should if it’s keto rash or an egg allergy. Gawd, the two combined are pretty shit! Again, stupid hot and can’t sleep; and far too much thinking going on, am upsetting myself, need to go back to being grateful and happy, stat!

*Note: As a writer of fiction loosely based on personal experiences, conversations, family, acquaintances and locations, please forgive any exaggerations. Apparently there is an automatic allowance when one holds a creative licence.

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Whole 30: whole lot of pain or whole lot of yumminess? Part 3

Please, don’t panic. I’m not going to write about every one of the thirty days! I’m not masochistic or sadistic enough (?), for which I am grateful and predict others are too. Speaking of S&M: kombucha. I had been drinking the produced, store-bought version as it is compliant, according to the Whole 30 website, and added some variety to my fluid intake. I had been drinking a large bottle of the store-bought version each day for two days. My track record when it came to carbonated drinks was not in the least medal worthy. With this in mind, I stopped drinking kombucha on the third day. If my thoughts had not been otherwise occupied with CYA and grumpy toddler, I possibly would have investigated thoroughly kombucha, the suggested intake and homemade versus purchased. 

As I was to find out later and post inaugural Whole 30, one had been consuming far too much each day, way over the 250ml recommended, and one’s body preferred the homemade variety. I have been brewing my own kombucha for twelve months now and have given my SCOBY mothers the names Scooter and Scarlett, both from my son’s SCOBY contribution. (The following may be upsetting to some: Jeanella’s contribution, Scott, died shortly after arriving home, his/her/its scabby SCOBY body was found moulding in a dry container… whoopsy!)

Day three and I was eating much more than I normally would and my clothes were becoming a little looser – not much but enough to be noticeable – interesting, my own little paradox. My son’s partner had told me that weighing was a Whole 30 no-no, but that she had taken a photo of herself in her togs the first day and would take another on the thirtieth day. So I copied her; as best a 50+ sloth-woman can copy a 30-something super-cut cross fitter. I whipped out the bathers and tried to master the art of taking a selfie in the mirror (to which I successfully failed but, as it was for personal use… meh, it was good enough). And whilst one has one’s bathers on, why not go for a walk along the beach and a little dip? Why not indeed? So I did. Ah, that was more like it… a relaxed day of eating compliant food, chilling out at the beach, watching fluff on the TV and feeling something like my old self. Though by nightfall, I was feeling sensitive and annoyed – I was way too emotional.

Apparently, it was not at all unusual to have had emotional reactions to doing the Whole 30. As part of the detox, there were all sorts of chemicals leeching out of my body along with withdrawal symptoms (from sugar in particular). I was sensitive, short-tempered, teary, headachy – oh, wait, it could have been PMT. Nah, I know the difference between being PMT bitch and now being Whole 30 detox bitch – they are different bitches (poor world).

Day four: I was running around like a headless, sweaty chook – picking up cars on the coast, dropping cars off on the other side of Brisneyland – a foolish, headless, sweaty chook. I had collected the twenty year-old Toyota Corolla, affectionately dubbed Doug, and driven it to CYA. Who, by the way, was not impressed in the slightest with Doug: I should have driven Doug off into the sunset right then and there, regardless of the fact that it was morning. However, there ensued more bitch slapping and perspiration spraying… to myself, for falling for the CYA’s sob stories and acting on best intentions. There was a saying bubbling up to the surface of my brain… ‘God save us from people with good intentions,’ or ‘Most of the evil in this world is done by people with good intentions.’ Something along those lines – though, I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself evil… yet. A few more days exposed to CYA’s drama whilst on the Whole 30 could soon change that. 

CYA and Doug dropped me off in Brisbane; I was meeting my niece for lunch. After a hair-raising, am-lucky-to-have-survived trip (who knew she could not drive even though she has had a licence for six years, gah!), I thought ‘what the hell have I done?’ Whilst CYA had an extensive list of things not to do when driving, written in my own hand and stuck to the dashboard, and although we’d had a serious conversation about her lifestyle with promises of change, taking responsibility and being accountable only seconds prior to me exiting the vehicle, the sense of dread was overwhelming for the future of CYA and her grumpy toddler. I felt I had just hammered in the last nail of my best intentions coffin.

Lunch with my niece was lovely; though trying to pull oneself together was like trying to eat san choy bau when the lettuce cup breaks followed by an oozing torrent of food and juice dribbled down the front of your new white top. (Oooh, san choy bau – bet I could make a compliant version!) I was emotional, tired, hot and utterly drained. Almost, in fact exactly, like Roger Federer was after losing to Rafael Nadal in the 2009 Australian Open. Except that I am not male. I play tennis as though it were a game of squash – why isn’t it the ball coming back to me? Oh, because you’ve hit it so hard it’s in the backyard of the house five blocks down. And, I’d have a huge smile on my face if I were that close to Rafael. I digress…            

The rest of the day was spent worrying, interjected with a drive back up the coast, a couple of games of cards, some salivating over a false-alarm bag of hot chips (meat from the butcher wrapped in… wait for it… butchers paper! Who’d have thunk it?), some more kombucha testing and inevitable fall out, and a huge dollop of cantankerousness. Sometimes you just need to talk to someone without them contributing in any way to the conversation: just to get it out, just to relieve some of the pressure building up. (Oooh, pork in the pressure cooker – bet I could make a compliant version of that!)