“Get busy living or get busy dying” – The Shawshank Redemption
I peacefully woke up without a cramp in my leg at 6:57 am. Oddly enough, I have woken up naturally at that exact time for the last three days. Could this have something to do with the change in my diet? I’m sure It must because I am a very heavy and lengthy sleeper. My Grandparents nicknamed me Sleeping Beauty as a child because I loved to sleep so much. During college Spring Break, I fell asleep in a minivan in Wisconsin and woke up 24 hours later in Florida! My friends couldn’t even wake me to go to the bathroom! Most mornings it takes a minimum of two family members to get me out of bed, so this is a very positive change in my habits and lifestyle.
It’s day 4 and the Dietician from the Clinic said I could start testing to see if I was in Ketosis on day 4. I’m tempted to test it, but I’ve decided to wait and give it just one more day of eating this way. I’ve never failed a test in my life and I don’t want to start now! My type “A”, overachieving, control freak, personality couldn’t take that kind of failure.
I can feel that my energy is back! In fact, I feel great! I can’t wait to get back to my exercise routine soon.
This morning, As I started to dry brush myself, I caught a side glance of myself in the mirror. I thought, “Wow! My stomach looks smaller. This is exciting!” To be honest, I have been plagued with a tummy for most of my life. I remember frolicking the streets of Lake Geneva when I was 22, while I had been working out for a few hours a day and wore a size two, when a random stranger ran up to me, declaring I was the most beautiful pregnant person she had ever laid eyes on. I cried for hours and dieted for weeks after that fiasco!
I hate my stomach and have hated it since I was a child. Even though I was in shape and at a healthy weight for the first thirty years of my life, I always had a pouch. I remember being at the beach with my girl cousins when we were kids and comparing my stomach to theirs. It wasn’t a game I care to play again.
I’ll be honest- one of the reasons I hate my stomach so much is because it doesn’t work for my ego. I come from a long line of attractive family members who believe they’ve got “it”. It’s something in the way we were raised and quite humorous when you watch us in action altogether. My Dad once told me his job in life was to build my self-esteem so high, that no dumb boy could ever knock me down. Mission accomplished, Dad.
I hate all of the things that she, my stomach, puts me at risk for cardiovascular disease, dementia, insulin resistance, type 2 diabetes, PCOS, Colorectal cancer, cancer, sleep apnea, high blood pressure, and premature death in general and the list goes on and on…..
I think that perhaps the biggest reason I hate my stomach is that I’m afraid of her. I know she’s deadly. I’ve experienced it in my own family. My Grandma, a beautifully svelt woman who would remind you of Princess Diana with a pouch at first glance, had her first open heart surgery at 52. Memories of her having a heart attack at my Aunt’s house have scarred me forever. My Uncle also had severe heart issues starting at 49 and he is now permanently disabled, and heart complications took my Dad at age 62.
I’m 46 and have a nine-year-old Son with special needs. We have a hard time finding a babysitter, much less finding someone to parent him when I pass. While I have a strong belief in Heaven and honestly can’t wait to go, dying isn’t an option for me right now.
I must get control of this not just for me, but for my family. It’s time to form a plan…