Guest Post by Angie Alt: Accepting My Paleo Imperfection

January 5, 2013 in Living with Autoimmune Disease

Angie Alt is wife, mother, world traveler & blogger.  She’s also a warrior in the autoimmunity war.  Angie confronts three autoimmune disorders each day, including Celiac Disease, with powerful management techniques like AIPaleo & the Paleolithic lifestyle.  She blogs regularly about the emotional side of tackling autoimmunity, adopting Paleo, and how it impacts her, her family, & their way of life.  You can read more by Angela Alt at her blog and connect with her on Facebook.

I’m a perfectionist.  Sigh . . . I wish it weren’t so, but it is.  I have always, always wanted all the details of everything I do to be flawless.  It doesn’t stop with just the things I do though, it is also who I am . . . I want that to be perfect too.

 In part, I happily ran down the Paleo path, because Paleo is aiming for ideals.  Ideal digestion, ideal blood sugar regulation, ideal vitamins and minerals from ideal foods, ideal body weight, ideal strength, ideal rest . . . and for people like me taking it that extra-step with Autoimmune Protocol, ideal disease management.  To begin with, it was a very complicated internal process for me to even wrap my mind around my autoimmunity.  “You mean my body is not functioning perfectly?”  I felt like I had done something wrong.  I’d made a mistake and naturally I had to make a major correction.  I knew immediately that the less than ideal standards of typical western medicine were not going to cut it for my perfectionist personality.

 Although I still have four months to go before I reach my first “paleoversary,” we are rapidly nearing the end of the calendar year.  Just like millions of other people I have been thinking recently about what I achieved in the past year and what I want to achieve in the new year.  The more I thought, the more I dwelled on all I have not yet accomplished on my Paleo journey.  I don’t eat organic, grass-fed meat or wild-caught fish 100% of the time yet.  I am coming from a starting point of extreme illness, including Celiac Disease, so I know I need supplementation, but I still haven’t worked out exactly what supplements to take and the best sources.  I don’t have a good routine put together yet for getting outside and using my body.  I haven’t mastered my sleep patterns.  I don’t have a good stress management process down.

 I have the terrible perfectionist habit of focusing on the areas that I think might be substandard.  As I contemplated the past year and tried to begin mentally planning the new one, I didn’t take any time to focus on the remarkable successes.  I had finally gotten a name for what was wrong for over a decade, Celiac Disease.  I had discovered a path to healing through Paleo and jumped head first into the Autoimmune Protocol.  Through careful AIP discipline I brought my gluten antibodies from 161 to only 1 point outside the normal range.  I learned literally volumes about real nutrition and almost without trying put together an awesome support network.  Most importantly, I started using my blog to write about the emotional side of tackling autoimmunity and adopting Paleo as a way to connect with and offer support to others in similar situations.

 Learning about Paleolithic nutrition and spreading the word from the basics all the way to the emotional triumphs and challenges culminated for me this week.  My co-workers asked me to give a presentation on Paleo.  I prepared everything meticulously (ugh, perfectionism) and then passionately gave them my pitch.  At the end of it, every single one of them decided to start the new year with Paleo.  I was so excited and will totally be cheering for them in their personal health resolutions.  And then it occurred to me . . . over and over during the course of my talk, I had emphasized to them that this was a process, that they should not get bogged down in rules, that they should take their time adapting to this new template for living . . . that it was not important to be perfect.  I was encouraging them to go easy on themselves, while I was silently running myself down about all the ways I have not yet achieved the Paleo ideal.  (I think those of us using Paleo to manage disease are particularly at risk for being too hard on ourselves about achieving perfection, since it can mean profound differences in our physical health and emotional well-being to get it all down just right.)

 The truth is, given the time and budget I have to work within, I am doing the absolute best I can in terms of food quality.  Long-term undiagnosed Celiac Disease means sorting out proper supplementation and finding high-quality, affordable sources is a larger work in progress, but I continue to work at it diligently.  I’m working hard to find the time between working full-time, being a wife and mother, and taking time for my passion, writing, to get outside and move my body.  I’ve had the sleep rhythms down a few times over the course of my Paleo adaptation and I am sure I will find my way back again.

 But then there is still that lacking stress management plan?  Maybe it should start with acceptance of my Paleo imperfection?  I, as a human being, am by nature one long work in progress.  How did we get here from our primal ancestors anyway, if it isn’t all about building one piece at a time to reach an ideal?  I am moving in the right direction.  I can feel it in my cells.  I am getting closer to the ideal and that is what counts.

I owe Angie an apology for not posting this post before New Years.  I hope this post will resonate with all of you the way it does for me and still seem timely as we contemplate and tackle our own New Years resolutions.

An Actually Fun Fun-Run! My, How Far We’ve Come!

October 16, 2012 in 2012

Last Friday was the big annual fundraiser at my oldest daughter’s school:  the Fun Run.  We collected pledges for the week leading up to the run and my daughter’s goal was to run 15 laps.  I’m not sure where this number came from, but I assume it was a result of discussions in her class.  My daughter became completely emotionally invested in the Fun Run, even donating one dollar of her own hard-earned tooth fairy money to help her classroom reach its collective fundraising goal.

As the day approached, I realized that the time of the actual Fun Run conflicted with my yoga class, which I really didn’t want to miss (my schedule has recently changed so that I can only make 2 classes a week now, so I am fiercely protective of my remaining yoga time).  I tried to gently inform my daughter that I would not be coming to the school to cheer her on (heck, I’m already at the school once a week to eat lunch with her and almost every week to volunteer).  To put it mildly, she was devastated.  She begged and pleaded for me to come.  She attempted to bribe me with promises of perfect behavior.  It got to me and the parental guilt kicked in.

A year ago, when I started the paleo adventure, my daughter was a super low energy kid.  Even when playing outside, the type of play she preferred was quiet, sitting somewhere, digging in the dirt, drawing with chalk, or “telling herself a story” (what she calls imaginative play).  She didn’t enjoy running around or chasing other kids.  And if she did get lured into this kind of play, she tired quickly (and then melted down).  Her lack of energy was one of my biggest concerns leading up to the transition to kindergarten.  So, how could I not support her endeavour to run fifteen whole laps to support her school?  How could I not encourage her enthusiasm for an actual activity?

I conceded to come to the Fun Run on one condition:  that my daughter let me run with her.  When I made this offer, my daughter’s entire face lit up!  She was so excited to have me come and run with her.  This would be even better than me coming to cheer her on!  I think that moment almost trumped Christmas (almost).

I decided to walk the mile to her school.  It would be difficult to find parking anyway, with nearly 300 kindergarten and first graders running at the same time and all of their families coming to support them.  The weather was perfect and the walk was beautiful.

When my daughter’s class arrived on the field, I lined up with them behind her teacher, who also seemed to think it was pretty cool that a mom was running with the class.  I wore my only purple shirt to match the purple spiritwear that the entire kindergarten cohort was wearing.  The teachers and paraprofessionals all ran with their classes, also wearing their purple shirts.  I was the only parent runner at first (parents were allowed to run, I wasn’t being rebellious or anything).  It was so much fun!  And, I made running the Fun Run with my daughter look cool, so that before long, plenty of parents, little siblings and even grandparents were joining their child for a lap.

I couldn’t believe how fast my daughter was!  And how many laps she ran before needing a water break!  After each water break, she would sprint ahead of me so that I had to work hard to catch up.  We ran laps; we walked laps; we had water breaks; we did dance laps, swimming laps, jump laps, cheerleading laps, robot laps, and chase the coach laps.  We did laps with other kids; we did laps with my daughter’s teacher; my daughter and I held hands for most of it (because she wanted to!).  We chatted and we laughed.  Actually, we laughed a whole lot.  It was a very special bonding time and I knew pretty quickly that this was one of the best decisions I’ve made in a long time.  We did 22 laps before we ran out of time (about 45 minutes).  And combined with my brisk walk to and from the school, I got a pretty good work out too!

This may seem like a fairly simple, and even natural thing to many people.  But this level of active play with my kids is not something I could have done a few years ago.  And maybe more than that, it’s not something my daughter would have willingly done a year ago.  She made it through the rest of her school day, and while the afternoon at home was quieter than usual (special treat movie afternoon since her little sister was also exhausted from being at her Mommy’s Morning Out program all day), we made it to bedtime without a major meltdown.  It felt so amazing to do something like this with my daughter, to support her goals, to support her participating in such an active activity, to be healthy enough that doing this was just plain fun.

But, appreciating this moment isn’t just about appreciating being physically healthy and improving my daughter’s health through better nutrition.  It’s about appreciating all the other related choices I’ve made–not just putting my high-powered medical research career on hold to be a stay-at-home mom, but the smaller things.  I made a promise to myself when my daughter started school that I would be involved (even if I didn’t have time to be room mom or be president of the PTA), that I would be a presence in the school and in my daughter’s education.  I also made a promise to myself to have fun with my kids, to play with them, to sometimes drop whatever I was doing to laugh with them.  This day was about putting my child first and about appreciating how awesome that decision turned out to be for me.  Finding balance can be hard for me, so this is kinda a big deal.  I’m not sure I’m explaining this well.  I’m trying to say that I appreciate both being physically healthy, but also having a healthy attitude and approach to life.

My daughter’s teacher told me that my daughter has a joie de vivre that is contagious in her class.  I like to think she gets that from me.  I sometime have a hard time relating to my oldest daughter, but days like this help me see that there are far more similarities between us than differences.  And, in the words of my daughter, that totally rocks!