Finding home - Part 2 - (day 266)

Human bodies are human bodies no matter where you go. They're machines, based in science, and fairly predictable.

Except when they aren't.

What the health and wellness industry seems to have forgotten (and what I only recently realized) is that just because human bodies are human bodies - machines - doesn't mean that we're all the same *type* of machine. Maybe you're a hybrid, and I'm a mack truck. Both machines, both operating under the same basic concept, but radically different.












Right now, it seems like most Americans are hybrids. The magazines cater to them, the fitness gurus talk to them, and they're drawing in the rest of the country with their amazing success stories. Except, we're forgetting that not everyone is a hybrid. Some of us are mack trucks.

For years I've been studying (and trying to follow) the health and fitness advice out there - most of which comes from eastern countries. Yoga, for example, comes from India. Much of our understanding of what foods to eat and not eat come from China and Greece. Lots of our exercise practices come from ancient Rome.

Where *don't* these things come from? Ireland, Scotland, Germany, and Norway.

Where do I come from? Genetically speaking: Ireland, Scotland, Germany, and Norway.

It's taken over a year of intense research for me to finally figure out that I should probably be looking for advice about how to take care of my body from people who have been taking care of bodies like mine for centuries. You don't ask a Toyota technician to rebuild a Mack truck engine.

I say 'figure out,' but what I mean is "stumble blindly into." My recent fascination with running as a lifestyle led me to a beginner's guide and I bought it before I realized where it came from. When I did see the British copyright info, I almost didn't read it! "I'm American," I thought, "I should get advice from Americans." But something - curiosity, probably - urged me on.

For most of my life, the health and fitness conversation has felt like Trigonometry class: I don't get it, everyone else seems to get it, I can't figure out why I don't get it, and it frustrates the living daylights out of me. But the British magazine changed everything. The words inside are encouraging, the advice makes sense, and the training plan looks like the most do-able thing on the planet. 

Too good to be true, I thought. This has to be a load of bull. 

Another recent fascination is genetics and how they affect the ways that people develop and what they need. Do Celtic women really have hotter tempers than most? Are Norse men made for war? As I was reading this British magazine, two thoughts occurred to me:

1) Do those of Celtic/Norse heritage have different nutritional and exercise needs than other genetic groups?
2) Where, geographically, do the Celts and Norse concentrate together?


After research I can tell you the answers are: "Yes," and "BRITAIN, DUMMY!"

It's such a relief to finally see solutions to my problems. Better yet, I can now see that my desire for certain macro-nutrient groups (sugars and fats mainly) isn't just a self-discipline issue. Portion control is a self-discipline issue, but the desire itself and the fact that my life is just better when I'm giving in to that desire even a little, doesn't make me a weak person! As it turns out, Celtic female bodies just tend to need more sugars and fats than, say, African or Spanish or Greek or even strictly English bodies.

All these years of beating myself up and feeling like a failure because I just can't manage to totally keep my hands off the sweets (and when I do, it's for a short period followed by a long binge). All these years, and what I really needed was to find home. To find the people like me, who held the missing puzzle pieces.

What a relief!

Finding Home - part 1 (Day 265)

Have you ever stood in a crowd of people you have nothing in common with?

My junior year in high school, I took trigonometry. I was going for a special diploma and I needed extra math credits, so trig and calculus were in my schedule for the last two years. It was probably the single most frustrating experience in my life so far. Everyone else in the room knew what was going on. They remembered formulas and patterns I'd never heard of, recognized symbols I'd never seen.

Every night, I'd stay up as long as I could manage, studying the pages of my textbook until everything blurred together, using up stack after stack of paper as I tried to figure out the solution to the equations before me. Every morning, I'd drag myself out of bed, across the 3 mile walk to school, and into a classroom two hours before school started, to get extra tutoring from the teacher.

Over and over I heard, "If you'd just apply yourself," "just think about it, you know the answer," or "if you just try harder." Sometimes I would get better, I'd get a few answers right, and I'd bring my grade up a little. But in the end, I had to spend time after school re-organizing the math department's storage room for extra credit just so I could pass the class with a D. It was the first time in my academic career that I failed a class, and it was devastating. I couldn't figure out why everyone else in the class seemed to find this so easy, and why I was failing despite working so much harder than the rest of my peers.

The next semester I took Algebra 2, and learned that I really should have been in that class first. Here, after I had already failed and lost my chance at the advanced diploma, I learned what I should have known all along.

Have you ever stood in a crowd of people you have nothing in common with? Have you ever tried to have a conversation with these people?

The health and fitness conversation has felt a lot like trigonometry class for me. Everyone says things like "Just try harder," "just eat less," and "just have more discipline." Less sugar. Less carbs. Less food. More exercise. Less meat. More cardio. Less grains. More strength training. Less fuel. More reps. Push yourself as hard as you can go on as little as your body will let you get away with. I voraciously study medical journals, running and weight lifting and bodybuilding magazines, psychology research, anything I can get my hands on to help me unlock the door to my healthier life. All around me are the stories of people who have found success in the same answers:

Less, and more.

Just like with trig, sometimes I hit on some magic streak in the universe and I start to get the answers right. Getting my body into a state of Ketosis provided fast, easy results and gave me hope, but I didn't address any of the real stuff: what my body actually needed, why I reach for sweets so often, or what kind of exercise really was best. So when I left Ketosis in favor of training for the marathon, it only took one injury to undo the progress I'd made.

Fortunately, I'm not stuck. With the math classes, I was stuck. Someone messed up, I didn't know any better, and by the time I figured it out, it was too late to change anything. But I'm only 23 and I've got plenty of time to change the conversation surrounding my health. So I keep studying, keep learning, keep searching. And a good thing, too! Because in my search, I found answers in a place I never thought to look: Britain.