Dairy and Me
Saturday, November 09, 2013
Well, I guess dairy really is out of my diet.
Mind you, I love dairy. Cheese, milk, kefir, ice cream, custards - I love it all. In my previous eating, I have generally done in about a gallon of milk a week, just as part of my normal eating and routine. It never gave me a moments grief (I thought), and I was pretty confident that once the Whole30 was done, I would go right back to eating it regularly - possibly at slightly lower levels, since I do know that drinking fewer of my calories is generally a good idea.
Introducing dairy back after the Whole30, as those of you who read my summing-up post, made me realize that my hands had stopped hurting during the Whole30 - and that eating dairy made them ache the next day. So, okay, my hands generally don't ache enough to bother me, but I'll leave the dairy for occasional treats. That should be fine, right? I'm the girl who once did in 1.5 gallons of milk in 24 hours, I cant give it up altogether!
So I took milk out of the regular rotation at home, but made no real attempt to avoid dairy outside the home. And that was going fine. I'm seeing lots of general improvements from eating Paleo, and I'm loving the results. Down 20 pounds so far. My blood work improving. My hands don't hurt. And my rosacea has faded down to almost nothing.
That last one is a big one. I have familial rosacea. My mother and my older brother both have it. My mother's face has bright red cheeks, like an old fashioned china doll, and her nose, while not completely inflated, has a little of that classic "drunkard's nose" look. Occasional break-outs, but nothing awful. My brother, otoh, doesn't have the nose, but is also a bright scarlet red, and is broken out like a particularly unfortunate teenager. At 52 he regularly gets mistaken for early 20's, which has little to do with general youthfulness, and much to do with the acne being the first thing people see when they look at his face.
At 44, I was well on my way to being him in 8 more years. Bright, bright pink, frequent breakouts, not constant nor all over the way his are now, but neither were his when he was my age.
So having my face fade from flamingo pink, to rosy, to normal, and the break-outs stop altogether is a really big deal to me. I put on my normal amount of make-up Thursday, and my husband commented "You look like a ghost! I think you're compensating for what isn't there anymore." I may even need to buy blush, which I haven't needed in a decade or more.
So, dairy. Yesterday, I had to go running out the door with no chance to cook, so I grabbed a couple pieces of string cheese on my way out. And Friday is ice cream day, and Rob was home early, so we went to Graeter's and I had a waffle cone (Black Cherry Chocolate).
And today my face is broken out. Not dramatically, but a definite patch of red itchy blemishes on my left cheek. And my cheeks and forehead are noticeably redder. From two doses of dairy over the course of a day. Oh - and my hands hurt.
I love dairy, but not that much. I'll be adding it to the list of things to not eat at all, unless there's significant social consequence to refusing.
In other news, I had a first training session with a personal trainer on Friday. I enjoyed it, and he seems a pleasant and competent young man. We'll be having one more session for him to map out a course of action for me, and then we'll be meeting about once every 2-3 weeks for him to check on my progress. I do always get amused at evaluation sessions with people who haven't worked with me before. I look like a pretty typical, somewhat pudgy, middle-aged housewife, and people tend to profoundly underestimate how much muscle I've got under the pudge, and how good my mobility is. It's good for my ego when someone looks at me after a few rounds of some-or-another exercise and says "You're very strong!" in tones of utter astonishment.
I think my favorite is from my black belt test, where one of my evaluators was a TKD black belt, who had never done any sort of grappling with me. He knew and respected my skills, but plainly thought I wasn't that strong. So when we hit the self-defense portion of my test, he chose to grab my arms to grapple me down, and was dumbfounded when I was able to match him pretty much dead-even for straight muscle strength (I won with a sweep-and-pin after a little struggle). He still comments on how strong I am, three years later.
Otherwise, things are pretty normal. Rob's lactose tolerance is back (hence the ice cream splurge on Friday). We replaced my elderly Maxima, with an even more elderly, but much better cared for, BMW. (We tend to buy cars around the 100,000-150,000 mile mark and run them until they drop.) And the choir auditioned two candidates for a new director this week. The music committee will be deciding and making a job offer on Monday, and with luck, we'll have a new director on Nov. 1. With even more luck, we won't have the dramatics with the new director that we've had with the last two. I would be happy with either candidate, but I'm not one of the critical people to please in the choir, so we'll see where that goes.