The First Little Nibble

Welcome to my first public blog.  I am admittedly incredibly new to blogging and am starting to write a blog before I have ever really subscribed to someone else’s blog.  So here goes. . .

Liz Toots is going to explore the world using the lens, metaphors, and stories related to digestive health.  At this point, I am a pretty firm believer that just about anything that we do, feel, think or say as humans can in some way be tied back to digestive health and that even if I can’t learn a lot by doing this, it will be fun and interesting to explore while offering richer perspectives on daily living and cycles.

OK, with the disclaimer out of the way, I think its important to give a little background as to “Why digestive health?”  “Why is digestive health so important to me?” and “Why would a girl choose to blog about anything remotely related to passing gas?”

I come from a family where my Babci (Polish Grandmother), and therefore my mother, would say, “Eat this banana. You need your potassium” or “Hungry? Have some carrots.  Vitamin A . . . Good for your eyes.”  So, I always thought that I had a solid understanding of what was good for my body and how and what to eat.

I never really questioned why I got bloated every day in high school, even when I ran track and thought that I was only eating “good foods.”  In college, that year that I ate a couple tums every day, just seemed normal. . . and they tasted good.  In the Peace Corps, I attributed my three years of continued digestive difficulties to the Giardia and other parasites I contracted at different times.  In my late 20s, I never questioned why I was the one in group housing getting into different yoga poses on a regular basis to “relieve the pressure” in my gut.  And even as a wilderness guide, I was proud and actually formed part of my identity around the fact that I farted more than anyone else in the group.  I thought that I was pretty impressive teaching teenage boys the lesson that, “Yes. Girls do fart, too.” (I feel like even writing the word “fart” in this blog just broke through some etiquette barrier.  Ahh, it feels good to get that out of the way early.)

It was only in my early thirties, after two years of encouragement from my applied kinesiologist/ chiropractor, that I decided to try cutting some of my favorite, healthy (and unhealthy) foods out of my diet.  She had been suggesting this for my joint health for more than two years, but I had attributed all of my joint soreness to my job as a backpacking guide.  I knew that I drank lots of water and couldn’t fathom how food would really affect my joints that much. It just had not occurred to me that food could play such a big part in it.

My actual decision to agree to a health program had a few more details to it.  But what transpired is that almost two years ago I agreed to try this wellness program that my beloved chiropractor was doing.  It was called Nutrition Response Testing.  It involved touching viles of foods, chemicals, metals, and immune challenges to my body while pushing on my arm.  No blood tests.  No elimination diet.  No putting anything on my tongue.  .  . I didn’t understand it at the time, but it didn’t matter.  I left that first session being told that I couldn’t eat almost any grains, soy, corn, dairy, and all sweeteners other than stevia.  It was intense, but I agreed to do it.

I had some struggles.  I missed chocolate chip cookies incredibly.  I had to pack snacks with me everywhere I went so I wouldn’t eat something that I was not supposed to.  . . . and then it started happening.  Within a couple weeks, my energy leveled out.  My joints became less sore.  My core became stronger – not so much my muscles – but it was more like an energetic shift.  I went from farting pretty continuously throughout the day, to barely farting at all. AND, I woke up and went to bed with a waist that not only existed, but didn’t hurt.  That was when I realized that I had basically been bloated for my whole life.

It was soo liberating.  It was such a powerful experience that I started to have food conspiracy theories.  For example, I am still mostly convinced that we, “the masses of people” are being fed sugar because it weakens us.  In fact, especially during those first few months, I would sabotage myself.  Sometimes I felt soo energetic and powerful that I wouldn’t know what to do with myself and would eat cookies just to make my energy crash. I know. It sounds to wild to be true.

So there it is.  Just the first little nibble as to why I believe that there is a lot to ponder and digest related to this topic.