Sugar Free-dom

I opened the refrigerator door. I closed the refrigerator door. 

I opened the cabinet above the sink. I closed the cabinet above the sink.
I opened the cabinet above the stove. I closed the cabinet above the stove.
I walked away disappointed, with nothing but a pathetic frown.
I did this multiple times a day, everyday for 30 days.
And that's almost true!

One month ago, I decided to veer off the fast and luring road to diabetes to see what other directions life had to offer.   It has been awhile in the making-- that is, my love affair with sweet, sweet foods: cake, cookies, cupcakes, donuts, brownies, candy, chocolate, muffins, pie, and ice cream, for example.  Before saying goodbye, I made it clear to all of Candyland that a bond like ours runs deep, best friends for life, no matter the distance between us.  

I am that person who lectures everyone about their health: "Quit eating all that crap and get exercising before the only way for you to leave the house is by forklift." Of course, I say all of this with a chocolate chip cookie in my hand. In both hands.  Or maybe the other hand has a slice of red velvet cake. So, yeah, I figured it was time to confront my own health demons.

The 30 days has come and gone, leaving me to wonder if sugar is really my problem or if my body is just irreparably exhausted.  They say that eliminating sugar from your diet helps restore energy and balance mood, bringing about a sustained sense of wellness.  Ah, that sounds fantastic! I am often always very tired and usually typically unpredictably moody.  That is not to say I am lazy or mean;  I am slow and cranky.  I traded in my sweet stash for the bitter taste of unsatisfied cravings only to discover that I am slow and cranky when I eat a lot of sugar and I am slow and cranky when I don't.

I gave up foods with added sugar but allowed myself to continue eating fruit, both fresh and dried [no fruit juice].  I also gave up coffee.  Reading ingredients at the grocery store was alarming. I could not believe how many foods that I eat regularly, not even counting the obvious decadent indulgences,  have [a lot of] added sugar: french fries, pickles, pasta sauce, tortillas, ketchup, salsa, hot sauce, soy milk, yogurt, cereal, soy sauce, hummus, bread.  For some foods, I managed to find a single brand that didn't use sugar when all others did [soy milk], some foods I had to eliminate completely [ketchup], and other foods I found a work around [soy sauce Braggs]. 

I WENT 30 DAYS WITHOUT DESSERT AND SURVIVED TO TELL ABOUT IT!
Some excerpts:

4.15.11 Day 1

I wonder if I'll replace one addiction for another. Hello, chips!

No cookies after dinner makes my skin crawl. Want. Now.

4.17.11 Day 3

Daytime tires me. Nighttime gives me cookies hungry.

The nights are definitely the worst. Mornings second worst.

Tim taunted me by mentioning "Whole Foods cookies." Now, I want two German chocolate cookies, one chocolate chip, a blueberry muffin, a banana muffin, a zucchini muffin, a chocolate muffin, and an apple pie. With ice cream. I would also really like a vegan pizza and a soft pretzel. 

4.18.11 Day 4

Vanilla rooibos tea is a life saver.  Mmmm Life Savers ...

It was as if I have never worked out. My energy was crappy. All day. Limbs heavy. 

4.21.11 Day 7 
Nothing much changes. 
Didn't realize I condemned us to not eating out ever ...

4.22.11 Day 8

Can't eat figs anymore because they are too expensive. 

4.23.11 Day 9

Same same. Same.

Body hurts.

Went to New World by myself at 11pm.  I saw a no sugar added chocolate bar and bought it.  Should I eat it? Nooooo, fine.

4.26.11 Day 12

It's incredible how much I talk about food. No. It's incredible how much I think about food. I always want cake in my face. 

I think I'm compensating by eating more food in general, specifically more salt.  It appears I'll be trading in early diabetes for a fresh case of high blood pressure.

4.28.11 Day 14

Tired.

5.3.11 Day 19

Grouchy day. 

5.11.11 Day 27

I don't care about the sugar diet anymore. 

With all of my might, I did it. I made it 30 days without sugar.  In fact, in the five days since my diet ended, I have only had one sugary treat -- a Luna Bar.  And I sat and stared at it for a long while ... But then I ate it.

Rangitoto Island, where volcanic monsters live.

WWII military barracks.

Lava caves. Good thing I brought a flashlight. Yes, it was creepy.

Lava field. 

Ooooh, I've been making succulent terrariums! I made about

30 of them in glass vessels of all different shapes and sizes.

I really hope that someone buys them ... please ...

The Milford Track Day 4: I Think I Can.

April 10, 2011

In case you were wondering or had any doubts, running uphill in stiff leather boots while carrying a massive backpack is extremely painful.  The boat was scheduled to depart from Sandfly Point [appropriately named] at exactly 2pm to take us across the Milford Sound to catch the shuttle back to town. I started hiking at 7:15am and discovered that 6.5 hours is not enough time to hike 11.5miles.  Now I know, for next time.

Racing to the end meant everything that had been good was suddenly not: my camera was a nuisance swinging around my neck, magical views were distracting, food was a complication buried somewhere in my bag, waterfalls and moss made rocks slick, pretty birds got in my way, and fascinating fungi became my embarrassing obsession.  The last day was my least favorite day.

It is astonishing how many hours I spent by myself over the last few days and how little I have thought about. Hiking in extreme conditions is clarifying, not because of what you process mentally but because of what you plan out physically.  Staying upright while tramping through a precarious landscape demands strict attention and feet more durable than my own. I did not fall but I did destroy my feet.

 Started hiking at sunrise, the clouds were low.

 

A few falls.

Dreamworld.

Things are growing.

Fall reflections.

So close to Sandfly Point.

 

Done.

The Milford Track Day 3: We've Only Just Begun.

Writing about my Milford Track journey has been anticlimactic, words failing to capture the now laughable [then dangerous] mishaps and jaw-dropping awesomeness. But I'll share some things I wrote in my journal. That's right, I wrote some things with pen and paper just like I used to as a kid. Just don't ask me to write in cursive because I don't remember how. 

April 9, 2011

Second night of sleeplessness, thanks to the lively chorus of snorers and the overpowering stink of sweaty clothing.  I woke before my alarm, again, and not so quietly gathered all my belongings and went to the kitchen. There is no possible way to exit the bunk rooms discretely, so I made all my noise at once and raced out before anyone could see me.  

The Milford Track Brochure published by the DOC [that I studied closely-ish] purports the climb over Mackinnon Pass to be a long and tough 14km: "For many walkers, this is the most difficult part of the track."  Since I am physically unstable from the herd of the elephants I packed in my bag, my goals for the day are to appreciate all things big and small, to not be the one airlifted out of here, and to be at the Dumpling Hut before dark.  I left at about 7:15am, just after sunrise.

The eerie morning mist settled above the trail as I began the hike uphill. Carefully calculating my path through the rocky terrain, I slowly traversed the mountainside, pausing at switchbacks to rest for a few seconds.  About two hours in, nearing the summit, I cleared the tree-line and was enveloped in a dense fog rapidly changing colors from grey to blue to orange.  As I watched the sun fight to dominate the sky, mountain peaks appeared in the distance, their bases cut off by thick clouds.  It was like looking into another dimension, the wall disintegrated and a new world materialized ... right ...  there. Next to me, in the middle of nowhere, by myself, a whole new world. Does anyone else see this?

The fog sank into the valley and the bright sunshine conquered Mackinnon Pass.  A fogbow exploded from the mountain and come on New Zealand, really, now you are just showing off.

After a short break at the Mackinnon Pass Day Shelter, I tackled the miserable descent and all of its treachery. The brochure was right, it was difficult.  In fact, it was brutally destructive on every joint in my body and was insistent on toppling me, rolling me down a hill, and throwing me off a cliff.  I kept repeating my mantra though, "I will not be airlifted out of here," evaluated the placement of every footstep, and balanced my overweighted body on the "uneven, rocky terrain." Although I was one of the last to arrive at the Dumpling Hut, the sun was still out, there were no helicopters coming for me, and I had a truly thrilling day.

 Entering the String Bean Forest.

Danger: Mackinnon Pass.

 Good morning sunshine. 

Fogbow: it's sort of like a rainbow but in fog.

 Summit reflections.

Looks like an ocean but it's fog settled in the valley.

Nesting Weka.

 Spider webs fall. 

Blue pools.

 Closest I have ever been to a full rainbow. 

Southerland Falls: New Zealand's tallest waterfall, 580m.

The Milford Track Day 2: A Horse is a Horse.

April 8, 2011

I tugged my shoulder straps, took a deep breath and tightened my waist belt as far as it would go.  Next time, pack less.  For 10.25 miles, I contemplated the many things in my bag that I could have done without and the added impact of the inessential on my aging joints.  I would leave behind my sneakers. I would take about half the amount of food.  I would lose the walking stick.  I don't need an extra water bottle.  Or a broken headlamp.  They say your pack should weigh no more than 1/3 your body weight.  If this is true, then I am morbidly obese.

I woke up in the morning to someone's alarm going off thirty minutes before mine. Although it was still dark out, I could not fall back asleep.  Waking up is a clamorous musical starring the creaking bed, the rustling sleeping bag, zippers, things being dropped on the floor, flashes of the torch, loud whispers, and doors opening and closing. Up and at 'em! The huts themselves are surprisingly well kept, a series of bunks with thin plastic wrapped mattresses --  something like the ones at the gym that people use for stretching.  Despite having earplugs, I barely slept.  In general, I am a bad sleeper.  Put me in a bunk bed in a foreign land in a room with 39 strangers and sleep is nothing more than an intangible dream.  I became fixated on the disturbing sounds of other people sleeping and let the unfamiliar noise overpower my desperate need for rest.

It was a sensational day: sunshine, cute birds, and moss.

 Clinton River, clear green water.

The Blue Duck is an endangered species, endemic to wild river 

habitats in New Zealand. Blue Ducks are also grey.

 Look! It's a fish swimming on the rocky trail! 

No, wait. It's actually swimming in the water.  Clear water.

Too small to crawl through.

 The last few km to the Mintaro Hut are uphill. 

The New Zealand Fuchsia [Kotukutuku] is a little conspicuous. 

 Mintaro Hut, night #2