It’s almost springtime and I am super pumped for the half marathon I signed up for nearly a year ago. Man, life was so different back then! I remember for awhile during the summer, wondering if I would ever be able to train for this half, or even attempt it– or if I’d have to take the financial and mental loss.
I’m happy to report, that not only do I plan on finishing this half, but according to the stats last year and my current pace, I’m likely to place in my age bracket! The only real goal I have for this is to complete it, but it would be frosting on the cake if I placed, and so I’m hopeful, and so very excited.
Sometimes my thoughts ponder on the last year– my biggest growth year– in every way possible. Simultaneously, the most rewarding and most frustrating– the happiest of times riddled with pain and suffering, and I am so grateful.
Boy was I frustrated with my body at times! The end of the school year was tough with my physical ailments. Finally, when school ended, I was able to purposely move my body daily via hour long leisurely walks. I was slow, but so proud to get out there daily. And then my legs stopped working.
I was getting used to, and accepting that my body is the boss. I also had to accept that I was expecting my body to fully heal itself– really a miraculous (but totally doable!) expectation. I took it as a sign, I was still moving too much and needed more rest. And so I rested, and rested, and rested.
I listened to my body, and took proper care of it, for the first time in my 45 years. Just like quitting alcohol, 30 days in felt like eternity, and my brain expected that my body should be back to normal already.
No brain, you drank everyday for like 10 years, 30 days isn’t going to fix it. Realistically, I think my body truly started to heal from alcohol after abstaining for about a year. There are no quick fixes. After 30 days on the autoimmune protocol, I was discouraged to still have pain– and sometimes be much sicker than I had been. This made no sense to me at all. For the first time in my life I was eating the proper nutrients– fresh food, fresh produce with clean protein daily, and I continued to suffer with pain and fatigue.
So many times I wanted to throw in the towel, with the excuse of, “It’s not working. It’s making everything worse!” At least that’s what Betsy was telling me. That little devil was so sneaky, she even tried to get me to start drinking and attempt to drink in moderation. During a time with desperate feelings in June, I came close to relapsing. Thank God I didn’t– thanks to my support system– but was uncomfortably close.
I knew in my heart that drinking would not only take me back about 100 steps, it would be so bad for my physical and mental health. I also knew that giving up on the AIP diet would be detrimental to my health and that regardless of how bad I felt, I needed to continue. I also knew that all of the new flairs and pain were somehow a part of the healing.
I complimented my good diet with spiritual wellness practices. I visualized healing during meditation, did reiki on myself regularly, said daily affirmations, went to sound bath healing meditations, got acupuncture.
I joined new facebook groups and learned all about iron deficiency anemia and how extra iron can cause arthritis symptoms- was this a missing key? I also learned that some people ingest Borax to kill the pain. I would leave no stone uncovered in my mission to heal.
I’m so glad I stuck with it, as there was a stark difference in my health when comparing the beginning to the end of the summer. It was like after 90 days of the autoimmune protocol diet, everything started to click. I was able to correlate problematic foods more easily, now that I had a clean slate to work with. By August, I felt like a brand new woman.
My body is the boss of me. Thank you, body, for showing me the way.