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Archive for the ‘My Stomach Hurts’ Category

Nothing too new to add here… Life is crazy and work is nuts and stress is always present, tying knots in my stomach and shoulders. But it’s all wonderful. Yoga practice? I took some deep breaths in the car yesterday. That was my yoga practice.

I had this moment on January 1st when I said I would do WoYoPracMo, then did really good for the first week, practicing every day, feeling sore and exhilarated and recommitted. And then I had a week of horrible back pain and stomach pain and I fell off the wagon. Again.

Not sure what’s up with the stomach… I’ve had some sort of pain basically since I was pregnant, although it was extremely localized up until the past few weeks. A tender spot about two inches below my belly button and two inches to my left. After the pregnancy, I just figured maybe it was scar tissue healing from the C-Section. Now since its been so long, I’m not so sure, so I’m getting it checked out. Yes, people. It takes me a year of discomfort before I seek medical help. A whole year.

The back pain is a combination of weakened abdominal muscles and hoisting a 20-plus-pound wiggle-worm around in ways that are definitely not orthopedist-recommended. We don’t call him Squirmin’ Herman for nothin’. Actually I’m pretty sure that the root of it all came from moving around after the surgery, as I vaguely remember this same aching in the same spot in my mid-back as I was hunched over my stitches for several weeks…

So yeah, no yoga lately. Maybe I can make the second half of January.

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Vacate

I tried on bikinis today and it was not a very fun experience. Then again, when is it ever?

So now I’m detoxing. No more drinking for a while. No more caffeine (I have become SO addicted). Less meat. More plant-based foods. More vitamins. More water.

Things might get a little cranky around here. Although, I’m sure it will be great for my yoga practice.

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Fellow Lactards, listen up.

I have just fallen in love. Seriously, this is the best thing that’s happened to me in… well… years. Maybe since Tofutti came up with their Better Than Sour Cream (which is exactly what it claims. It’s just better).

Every time I walk through my little natural foods cooperative, I glance at the small, elegant carton in the tiny frozen section. But I never buy it. Last night, a friend was bringing over an apple-pear pie from the Avila Valley Barn for dessert, so I knew I had to have some Ice Cream. And not that Soy Delicious crap because that stuff is Soy (Not) Delicious. I wanted creamy, velvety, vanilla, melt your heart ice cream.

So I grabbed the carton. Vanilla Snowflake. Hmm… Sounds good. Never mind the fact that it cost an arm and a leg. PEOPLE!! THIS IS WORTH IT! I had no idea how good this stuff could be.

Laloo’s. Goat’s Milk. Ice Cream. Is SO good. AND!! It’s only 6 grams of fat per serving. Compared to my husband’s Rainbow Ice Cream at 16 grams…

Look how cute that goat is on the website. I want one. (yes, along with the chickens and the sheep and the horses that I also want. Just call me Dr. Doolittle)

The texture is quite possibly the richest and creamiest I’ve had in my mouth since I was 19 and realized I could no longer eat ice cream. And the flavor is amazing as well. Not “goaty” at all. It even passed the Tay test*.

Ain’t no belly aching about it. It’s a Lactard’s best friend.

*However, he’s going to have to stick to his high fat cow’s milk stuff because it’s much more affordable.  And he’s not special like I am.

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Yesterday as I was working on building MORE cabinetry for the house (good god, we have a lot of cabinetry), I played a little more with the bakasana-to-handstand thing. I couldn’t seem to replicate my initial success, but I could pull my knees off my armpits and hover for a while before collapsing in exhaustion. Ladies Holiday is here, so the bandhas are very weak.

There’s an interesting discussion going on over on EZboard, and I’m trying like hell to keep my mouth shut now.  I had to throw in a few responses… I had been mislabeled as a 90 lb. teeny ashtangini, which I am not. Add about 40 pounds on to that number. Later on, someone pointed out that some bloggers claim to be fine with their size, and then write about their weight or about food and eating… This, they argue, is an example of disordered eating. I disagree with that latter part.

Guilty as charged, where the first part of their argument is concerned. I write about food… I love food… but it’s a love-hate relationship. Not because I’m afraid of calories or fat, but because of the whole IBS thing, which I still don’t buy. So basically western medicine can’t figure out what’s wrong with me after dozens of tests, and then they group me in to this catch-all and try to give me prescription drugs that don’t treat my exact symptoms… If you look to your right in my side-bar, I have a whole category labeled, “My Stomach Hurts” for all these complaints of mine.

I write about feeling fat sometimes, too. This is also directly related to my “health” issues: The bloat that I live with on a day to day basis for reasons that I can’t seem to pinpoint. But some of it comes back to the influence of the media, the same ol’ standby excuse. Really, can any woman claim that they’ve never looked in a mirror and asked their friend/boyfriend/girlfriend/husband, “Do these ____ make me look fat?” So I do not apologize for any comments I’ve made here. If I call myself a cow one day, it’s probably because I ate two croissants for breakfast and my lactose intolerance is making me feel like a blimp at that moment.

We all have bad days filled with self-doubt or misconceptions. Many of us keep it to ourselves, while some of us write it down and publish it on the internet for anyone out there to read.

Oh, and I don’t feel fat today. I got me some new shoes, and they make me feel very thin and glamorous. 🙂

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I’m trying a little experiment.

I’ve cut wheat and, for the most part, gluten out of my diet to see how it effects the stomach issues. Last year, I tested negative for Celiac disease, but a general intolerance or allergy is not out of the question, I suppose. I’m on day 3. For the most part, I feel pretty good. Better, I think, than normal. Of course, I screwed the pooch last night when I threw some dry jack cheese into my polenta. I felt heavy and nauseous this morning, despite the lactaid pill I took with dinner.

I’m definitely hoping that wheat is not the problem. This, on top of my existing issues, would make me the dinner guest from hell. No dairy, unless it comes from sheep, goat, or water buffalo. No wheat. Seafood is okay. Meat… well… it depends on my mood, energy, the pull of the moon, whatever. My poor mother-in-law’s head would spin trying to feed me each Sunday.

I wanted to practice this morning, but I couldn’t fathom making it through my full practice without yakking, so I skipped to my second series poses right from standing. That’s always such a trip. I’ve decided I do like Bharadvajasana, despite the fact that I’m no good at it.

I drug my mat outside to the downstairs deck after Kapotasana, thinking that perhaps the railing would be just the right height for my knees to slide under for Supta Vajrasana, but no dice. (The couch is all the way upstairs now in the new house, as is our bedroom and my sometimes-adjuster husband, so I’ve been basically skipping that pose since we moved in.) I’ve got to figure something out… the bolster thing just doesn’t seem to work for me.

Finished outside, which was lovely… watching the sun rise and feeling it begin to warm up the hillside. Sure, the internal heat was gone by the time I finished my post-backbending paschimottanasana, but the sun on my shoulders in baddha padmasana made it all worth it.

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Ugh… felt horrible this morning. I practiced through standing, and then gave up… sitting quietly for a few minutes before going back to bed.

Once cozy under the covers, I started analyzing from where the stomach problems could stem. Last night’s dinner seemed harmless enough: cauliflower braised in a tangy red wine/vinegar sauce with fresh herbs and whole wheat pasta. And yet, here I was curled around my cramps yet again. Oh, and I think I’m getting a cold.

And then it struck me. None of these afflictions seem to come around when I’m practicing daily. They show up during ladies holiday or after a moonday or during a break from my yoga practice. Coincidence?

I’ll have to keep careful track of this from now on.

Taylor left this morning for Switzerland and Ireland. While he’s gone, I get to pack up the whole house. And once he returns I get to MOVE IN TO MY NEW HOUSE!!!!! 

Remember the day we bought the property? Remember the day we broke ground? And now move in day is just around the corner!

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Split

Last night I was so tired I fell asleep by 8:30. I should do that more often, it really simplifies things. Get home, eat dinner, go to bed.

This morning I was so tired that I split after Supta Kurmasana. I just could not fathom one more pose of primary. I touched a toe down in Bakasana B, my left big one, I think… but I was so tired I decided not to try it again.

Yesterday, when I jumped to Pasasana, I started to roll my rug up for my heels. I was stopped. “I’ll help,” said the Tall One. He stood behind me and as I began to fall backwards, he simply stepped forward so that I fell into him. Then I regained my balance, with one heel firmly planted on the ground and the other heel creeping up a tiny bit. Aha. Same thing with the other side. So this morning, I decided to ditch the folded mat and concentrate on my balance. And I was fairly successful, until I toppled over on the second side. But I balanced for a good 4 breaths with both heels flat until that moment where it all came tumbling down.

Lucky me, I had a handsome helper for Supta Vajrasana this morning. And I think I’m training him to be an excellent adjuster for that pose. “Resist me. Pull my arms towards you…. Okay, now really pull…” And then when I come up from the last one, I get a little kiss. It’s a lovely reward for all my hard work.

After my 3 Urdvha Dhanurasanas, I didn’t stand up for dropbacks. I was too tired. (I feel like I’ve said that already.)

The past few nights I’ve been having these horrible dreams. Some are scary and I wake up shaking and sweating. Some are sad and uncomfortable and leave me feeling insecure and alone. Every one has been difficult to shake off once I wake. And the IBS is acting up lately as well, which may go hand in hand with those nightmares. I haven’t been as careful with my diet lately, so I’m back to the basics.

I would kill for a vegan vanilla cupcake from the Real Food Daily right now, quite honestly.  I wonder if they deliver.

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