I was in a line that terminated in a watery grave. As the line inched forward, I felt the eyes of all of my peers trained intently on me. The kids in front of me and the kids behind me were actors, and nobody was watching their performance. It was just me that they were judging. Finally, I reached a white set of stairs. A sharp whistle rang out, SHREEEEEEEETTTT! My head darted up to an older peer, perched on a high chair, his beady eyes looking straight at me. Judging me. Forcing me to walk the plank to my death. "One at a time!" he called, as if multiple deaths at one time was somehow frowned upon. The walkway in front of me trembled a bit, then took a giant leap up in the air, landing on its support with a metallic THUD. It was my turn.
I glanced at my peers behind me, who all looked back at me with judging, cruel eyes. I looked out across the water. Everything was standing still and everyone was waiting on me. I walked carefully down the walkway to where it ended. My heart was thudding uncontrollably. I desperately fought a paralyzing fear that threatened to take the use of my limbs away from me. One more quick glance around, and I stepped off.
A moment of freefall in which I felt both terrified and intrigued at the same time, was followed immediately by the cool water enveloping me, and the air bubbles I'd taken with me tingled against my skin as they rushed to the surface. I opened my eyes just before my head broke the surface, and a huge grin spread across my face. I'd done it! I'd survived the diving board! I looked back at the line that'd been behind me, expecting wild applause, cheering, and chants for an encore. I got nothing. Just bored and impatient looks as they waited for me to get out of the way so they could have their turn.
I have been thinking today about how the beginning of this new lifestyle is similar to my first experience on a diving board.
It's scary, knowing that at least the next 30 days (and maybe more, if it turns out this is good for me) will be spent without the foods I have come to love. It will be difficult to learn suitable substitutions, and how to get around obstacles in baking with gluten free flour.
It's scary, knowing that at least the next 30 days (and maybe more, if it turns out this is good for me) will be spent without the foods I have come to love. It will be difficult to learn suitable substitutions, and how to get around obstacles in baking with gluten free flour.
I have been exploring gluten free living for about a year. An old friend of mine has lived gluten free off and on for a few years, and so I have eaten gluten free at her house, cooked gluten free when I've hosted parties where she was invited, and read books and blogs that she's recommended. But taking that step to completely trash the way I have eaten since the day I started eating solids is an enormous undertaking that is both terrifying and exciting.
Although I am tremendously excited to explore the possibilities for improved health through gluten free living, I also realize that this excitement will continue to be fueled by me, and me alone. Nobody (except maybe said gluten free friend) will be cheering me on from the sidelines, just like nobody cared when I finally jumped off that diving board. This is a ME challenge, and I'm going to learn to be my biggest fan.
Today's Results
Breakfast - Bacon, Scrambled Eggs, George's Kitchen GF English Muffin (3/4 Stars)
Lunch - Skipped. See below.
Dinner - Chicken Quesadillas made with Corn Tortillas, Guacamole, Sour Cream, Corn on the Cob.
Snacks - Skipped AM. Cucumber Salad in PM.
Weight - Surprisingly, down 5 pounds from pre-Mardi Gras weight, even though I ate like a pig. 287.
Headaches - None.
Mood - Slightly more motivated than usual.
Energy - Tanked at 9:30am. Fell asleep in the middle of surfing internet in bed. Slept for 4 solid hours. Skipped AM snack and lunch, but didn't feel hungry. When I awoke, was still full from breakfast.
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