- Gluten intolerance is all in your head
Until you’ve binged on gluten (as an adult) and shat your pants (as an adult) you’re not entitled to an opinion on whether gluten intolerance is psychosomatic. Let me assure you that shitting my pants is definitely not all in my head. What could be psycho-something-or-other, is knowing I might shit my pants and eating gluten anyway.My anxiety levels are at their absolute highest when I’m squeezing my ass cheeks together in the supermarket, praying to goodness that there’s a public toilet, and that I can make it there before I shit myself.
Too much gluten makes me sick. So sick I once ended up in hospital because the GP was worried my appendix was about to burst. I was nil by mouth for 36 hours, which is a reeeeeeally long time. I got to have one of those dildo ultrasounds though, I had to sign about 16 forms to say that I wouldn’t make a complaint about being violated by the dildo ultrasound wand. No worries babes, I’m here in my gown, high as a kite on morphine, you can do whatever you like.
They found nothing and I wasn’t sick enough to test for Coeliac Disease, but I got to share a room with five women which I hadn’t done since school camp – one of whom woke up from her anaesthetic screaming her lungs out. I never bothered to go to A & E again, I’d just park myself on the toilet with a bucket (#bothends) for two days. Bloody good for weight loss, not good if you’re down to the last roll of toilet paper…
- Breakfast is the most important meal of the day
I stopped eating breakfast a couple of years ago, and haven’t looked back. Intermittent fasting was a bit of a struggle to begin with (I blogged about it here), but now I totally dig it. People think I’m a weirdo, but we should all know by now how many trucks I give about that.For years I had six small meals a day, and now I have two or three big ones. Unless it’s Christmas time, then I obviously have at least eight meals, plus snacks. I love a snack as much as the next person, probably more, but my “small handful of almonds OR half an apple” turns into “three kiwifruit, a peach, a yoghurt, three large handfuls of trail mix (with chocolate), a large bag of chips, and four donuts”. However, if I’m foolishly keeping a food diary, I’ll write “fruit” as my snack, which is kinda true…
So basically, if I skip breakfast, I can have a bigger lunch and dinner, and that works for me, because “excellent at portion control” is defs not on my CV. It does mean that I have to endure a whole lotta chat about what I’m eating, and why. Is it because I’m within “the healthy weight range” that people think it’s OK to tell the whole office that I’ve got too much fat/protein/carbohydrate on my plate?
This article explains intermittent fasting using way more professional chat than me. I don’t have issues with blood sugar lows (my sister spews if she doesn’t eat breakfast) and it doesn’t appear to affect my concentration, but if someone schedules a meeting for 12:30 and I’m yet to eat, I notice that my tolerance level for bullshit drops a little (OK, a lot).
- Girls who lift weights don’t get bulky
I’m no muscle-ologist but I’m going to open myself up to a whole lot of “difference of opinion” (A.K.A. personal attacks and nasty comments), and say that genetics play a huge role in your ability to build muscle mass. I’m a Roman Viking with some pint loving Irish thrown in, and that’s pretty much exactly what my body represents.Maybe I just have more testosterone than most women – they didn’t call me Miss Mohansen at high school for nothing. A few years back I was training with a PT who bought into the “lift heavy, get lean” philosophy, and before long I started to resemble that shot putter that ripped off our Beatrice at the London Olympics. The PT said my muscles were getting bigger under my fat, and that the fat would come off, leaving me with lean muscle. It didn’t happen.
I couldn’t get my jeans over my bulging quads, the extra width in my shoulders and arms meant that I couldn’t reach my mouse if I was wearing a business shirt – I just wasn’t feeling it. I now do minimal weight training, but I must still look pretty buff…
The other week I was out for a walk, I told myself I had to run up Western Heights Drive, for those who haven’t heard of it, I’m pretty sure it’s the second steepest street in NZ. So I was running up the street, and by running I mean jogging, and by jogging I mean shuffling. So I was shuffling up the street and I saw a guy trying to push his car out of his driveway.
I had one of those internalising a complicated situation moments, trying to decide whether to shuffle past or stop and offer my assistance. It was nearing the end of the year and I thought I should squeeze in a good deed, so I stopped and asked “you need a hand mate?” He goes, “yeah, could you give us a push?”
Give you a push? WTF? Am I not supposed to steer and you push? So he got in the car, and I wasn’t sure if there was a dash cam, but if there was, I wanted to make my YouTube debut with the heading “Runner Pushes Guy’s Car Up Driveway LIKE A BOSS”. I was definitely doubting myself, especially after shuffling 100m up the hill and experiencing extreme fatigue, but I gave myself a little pep talk, and pushed that muh fuggin Skyline out of that driveway. Boom! Good deed done! Now back to the shuffle…
With all that said, if you’re happily eating six small, gluten laden meals a day, and hitting PB’s in the gym, squatting and deadlifting and overhead pressing, and it’s working for you, then that’s great news! Please resist the urge to tell me that this post “actually comes across as super douchey”, or is a “very hateful and quite frankly sad blog post” or that you’ll “stick with groups run by people who don’t exploit their so-called friends’ tragedies”.
Do what works for you, and if not’s working, do something different, don’t feel like you have to take advice from people reciting from the same articles as everyone else, and the very last person you should ever take advice from, well, that’s me.