Foods You Must Ditch (WLC)

The Whole Life Challenge Food Component is basically a modified Paleo diet…modified in that you can eat beans even on the strictest level.

The 3 levels of “play” are essentially levels of strictness. The very strictest level, for example, permits no grains of any kind. That’s not an option for me; I would not last a single day. You should pick a level that stretches you, but that you can sustain – ideally sustain beyond the 8-week challenge time.

People ask me what I can’t eat. The eating plan is designed to eliminate all the things that are generally known to cause inflammation in people. (It actually takes quite a while for our bodies to de-inflame [I may have just made that word up], which is why, perhaps, many people don’t see actual weight loss for many weeks. Do not be discouraged. Your body is healing so it can start using nutrients and burning fat efficiently, something it probably has a hard time doing in its current “inflamed" state.)

In a nutshell, here is what I don’t eat:
    •    Sugar – of any kind, except for Stevia, which is a plant-based sweetener.
    •    Anything with flour in it.
    •    White rice
    •    White potatoes
    •    Dairy products with the exception of plain yogurt, butter and kefir. (Some people think eggs are dairy – they’re not. Eggs are fine to eat.)
    •    Soy (I think getting rid of soy is about the gluten, so gluten-free soy sauce might be ok, but you’d have to check the website.)
    •    Corn (I think now you may be able to eat it in the new version; not popcorn, though.)
    •    No artificial or processed ingredients except for a few they "ok."

The Whole Life Challenge website has a sheet about exactly what you can and can't eat. I don't know if you need to sign up to access it (I can't link to it here for some reason). Go there and try clicking on HOW TO PLAY and the list should be accessible from Number 2.

The intermediate level is now way more lax about sugar. I will tell you this: sugar is a drug, not a food. You will go through withdrawals from it. Having “a little” may make it harder to not have “a lot,” so it’s up to you how strict you want to be. I say get off it completely. I really believe that single thing has been most responsible for how good I feel.

I believe you can now have one glass of wine or spirits per day at the intermediate level. As I’ve said, when I did it, it was one per week. I am not a drinker, so this was not difficult for me;  if you can limit alcohol as much as possible, you’ll probably lose more weight – just saying.

NEXT WLC POST

What Can I Snack On? (WLC)

The Whole Life Challenge Website has food lists for each of three levels of play. I play at the middle level, which is challenging enough for me. At my level, I can have yogurt and oatmeal, two of my go-to snacks. (Real oatmeal, not the packets.) I think every other snack I list is compliant at all levels of play.

I’m a very picky eater, so I’m sure there are dozens of other yummy things to eat that I just won’t eat. That said, here's what I snack on:

    •    Plain Yogurt – full fat Fage is my favorite. I put banana and walnuts in it and sometimes a touch of vanilla. I would urge you to stay away from non-fat yogurt. You will be hungry again in 15 minutes.
    •    Avacado and Tomato (This is the perfect time of year for this, add salt and maybe a little balsamic.)
    •    Almonds/Sunflower Seeds with or without Raisins
    •    Roasted Sweet Potato “Fries” (OMG!!) (Cubed, coated lightly with olive oil and salt)
    •    Smoothies (I add stevia if I need something really sweet, but mostly just fruit, almond milk, a dollop of yogurt, a touch of vanilla.)
    •    Roasted Cauliflower, Broccoli and Brussels Sprouts (Roast ‘til caramelized and crispy. Better than chips. Seriously.)
    •    All Fruit
    •    Raw Veggies with or without Hummus to dip in
    •    Apples or Bananas with (healthy, no-sugar-added) Peanut or Almond Butter
    •    Chai Tea with Almond Milk and Stevia*
    •    Bullet Proof Coffee (This is coffee blended – in a blender – with organic, grass-fed, unsalted butter and a little coconut oil. It fills you and is delish.)
    •    Soup or Leftovers (I sometimes have little meals if I need a snack. Yesterday I was starving at 4pm and heated up a tiny piece of leftover salmon onto which I piled cut up mango and salsa and capers because that’s all we had around. It was scrumptious.)

I don’t eat much from a package anymore, but technically these are compliant (I'm sure there's other packaged stuff...you'll have to do some investigating):

    •    Sweet Potato and Carrot Terra Chips
    •    Brown Rice Cakes  (check ingredients)

People ask me how much of any of this stuff I eat. I eat until I feel satisfied. I have tried really hard in this challenge to parse out what’s Hunger, what’s Boredom, what’s Procrastination, and what’s Habit when it comes to snacking. If I’m actually hungry, I eat until I’m not hungry anymore. And the thing that satisfies me most (even when I want chocolate) (especially when I want chocolate), is roasted, salted nuts. I might eat two big handfuls of almonds and sunflower seeds. At first I freaked out about eating so much “fat.” I now don’t give it a second thought.

I’m home a lot, which makes things both easier and harder. I can easily make myself something to eat, but I also have a kitchen 25 feet from my workspace that beckons to me every time I can’t think of the next sentence to write. All I can say is this: if you’re out in the world and you want a snack, go somewhere and eat Real Food. Get a salad. Get a cup of soup. Go to a juice bar. Go get some bananas and nuts. Keep a bag of almonds in your car. Once you get in the habit of doing this, you will not believe how difficult you once thought it would be.

Once the challenge starts, you have access to the Forum, where people ask questions like, “What can I have for a snack?” and lots of people answer them, with ideas, recipes and encouragement.

Yes, you will miss cheese. But you’ll get over it.

*Stevia is a natural, plant-based sweetener. I think it's compliant at all levels. I get it in little packets at the supermarket and carry them with me, like my grandmother used to do when she stole all the Sweet n Lows from the sugar bowls at restaurants.

 NEXT WLC POST

My Big Fat Whole Life Challenge Blog Post

I didn’t write down the date I started my first Whole Life Challenge, but I’m pretty sure it was in mid-January of 2014. I had lost some weight on Weight Watchers a few years earlier and had gained a lot of it back. This completely freaked me out, because largely, I was eating a Weight Watchers-condoned diet. I talked to my internist and my gynecologist about it and they both just nodded their heads. “Women your age…”

I know it’s harder to lose weight now than it was when I was 30, but I know plenty of Women My Age who are slim and fit, so that wasn’t totally making sense for me.

However many of those women are hungry all the time. That’s not an option for me, as I’m too cranky when I’m hungry. So I talked to this woman in town who does a one-on-one nutrition/exercise/lifestyle thing with you and texts you all the time to make sure you’re toeing the line. What she said to me made a lot of sense – we talked about hormones and how our bodies don’t have what they need to run efficiently – and I was all ready to sign up with her, plunk down a big chunk of change that I really didn't have, because I considered it my only hope.

Then, my friend Sharon posted something on Facebook about the Whole Life Challenge. I knew she’d lost some weight on it in the past and I was slightly intrigued – but only slightly, because really anything with the word “challenge” in it is a complete turn off to me. I find it challenging to make dinner every day and take a shower. That's enough challenge for me.

I hemmed and hawed for a few days and then the start date came and went. I wanted to kick myself. It cost $49 to join this 8-week challenge and I blew it off because…I don't even know why I blew it off. I guess because I thought I would fail.

A day or two later, I had an uncharacteristic moment of clarity and decided I’d try it, quit if I hated it and, if it didn’t work, suck it up and plunk down the money to do the more expensive one-on-one program. I joined the challenge, joined my friend’s team and then completely – and I mean completely – changed the way I eat.

The Whole Life Challenge is an 8 week challenge that you participate in or “play” online. You’re asked to pick a level to play at (I play at the intermediate level) and you get a list of food that you can no longer eat. You’re asked to exercise every day for at least 10 minutes, and that exercise is anything you choose – whatever YOU consider exercise. I walk or do yoga or play tennis. None of it is particularly rigorous, but my body is in motion for a sustained period of time every day. You’re asked to stretch for 10 minutes every day and you’re asked to take a supplement of some kind every day. A supplement is anything you choose to improve your innards. I added a daily acidophilus pill because I’d recently read that our immune systems start with a healthy gut. I used to take acidophilus only when I was on antibiotics or if my stomach felt “off,” but apparently taking it every day is really good for you, so I committed to that.

Finally, you’re asked to take on a “lifestyle” challenge. When I did it the first time, this would be a week-long activity that you’d be told about via email. One was: Ten minutes per day of meditation. Another was: Read a book for pleasure for 10 minutes every day. Another was: Get 7 hours of sleep every 24 hours. These were all pretty simple, but not always easy.

Finally, you were invited to share a little message with the group everyday on the message board. The message board consists of your teammates and the message has a minimum and maximum character count. They’re short. This paragraph would not fit in the message slot. Every five times you post a message you get some extra points.

Points are amassed by being “compliant.” If you do your exercise, you get points for it that day. If you do not eat any foods you shouldn’t be eating, you get points for that. Every day you amass points for your team, based on how you did with all your little challenges on that day. Most people did not get a perfect score every day and many people did not get a perfect score most days. Meaning: people have vacations, or parties, or are too busy to get to the gym – they all just do the best they can.

I had hoped to lose 5 pounds. At the end of 8 weeks, I’d lost about 8 pounds and a few inches around my middle. I lost one full chin. My “skinny jeans” fit again. But the most profound thing was how much better I felt. I had way more energy, right from the beginning. Like, after a week, I felt 10 years younger. (Maybe not 10, but at least 7.)

I have found this way of eating so energizing that I simply kept going after the first 8-week stint. I went from 150 to 135 pounds and a size 10 to a size 6. My skin is clear and my mood is usually pretty upbeat. I’m never hungry. I don’t feel deprived. I don’t find it difficult. But that’s just me. You have to find a thing that suits you – and this happens to suit me.

I’ve told a lot of people about this experience – what it was like to Give Up Sugar (hard and ugly), how I lost inches long before I lost pounds, how drinking the water they require was one of the biggest challenges and ultimately changed my life.

I have a lot to say about this challenge and now a ton of people I know are doing it along with me. I am blogging about some of the specifics because I don’t have time to talk or text with each individual person.

I will share with you my perspective on How Invisible You Can Be (a question I get a lot), about What To Eat At A Restaurant (another popular terror), How To Get Through Cravings, What To Eat At Home, etc. I will try not to go on and on as I did here, and also try to keep the number of posts brief, because I know these posts end up in people’s mailboxes. If you’re not interested in this, I apologize in advance. If you haven’t signed up but are intrigued, I’ll post a link at the end here.

Not surprisingly, there’s a TON of information and resources on the website, far more exhaustive than what I will provide. But until y’all feel comfortable, we can just ease into this together.

xoxo

The Whole Life Challenge website

NEXT BLOG POST ON WLC
 

I Love Eighth Grade Boys

The following is running on Huffington Post -- you can comment or share it directly from the site by clicking here.


When I used to work with kids on their writing, my favorites were always the eighth grade boys. They didn't even pretend to like to write. "I'm a terrible writer," each would say. Even though that was rarely ever true.

Eighth grade boys would sit at my dining room table and do almost anything to avoid writing. They'd stretch their long limbs. They'd take apart pens. They'd wage bets. One boy always wanted to bet on word meanings. He knew he could kill extra time by offering to get the dictionary from the next room and then feign difficulty looking it up.

Eighth grade boys often make words up, using a logic and understanding of language that was never evident in their horrendous seventh grade selves.

Is there anyone more hubrant than an eighth grade boy?

That's the type of sentence they'd write.

“Hubrant?" I'd say.

"Yeah. It means: a person who has a lot of hubris."

Not even, "I think it means..." During this small moment of their lives, eighth grade boys are absolutely sure about everything.

I love eighth grade boys. (Although not in a creepy way.)

Because they are at once impossibly full of themselves and catastrophically insecure. Because you can finally start to see the young men they'll eventually become. Because they're quick and irreverent. But mostly because they are usually very, very funny.

A friend once forwarded me this email, written by her eighth grade son to his science teacher:

"Here is my frankly extraordinary project. Filled not only with fantastic revelations of elements but also how, in an ecclesiastical way, [they] correlate to our humble beginnings as stated in the Judeo-Christian book of prayer. This is an epiphany I realized only after trawling though thousands of gigabytes of information as well as after participating in a confirmation retreat, which explains the slight tardiness. But the quality obviously makes up for the time. Did Italy ask Michelangelo, "Why haven't you finished the Sistine Chapel? I told you to do it Monday!" This is because Italy knew that with quality comes deep soul searching that cannot be bound by social or time constraints. So considering this project is pretty much the scientific equivalent of the Sistine Chapel and it was emailed to you by the correct date, I think that it is superfluous for you to read it and much more economical and health conscious just to give me 100 percent. I say health conscious because I am worried about the long-term effects when this paper on Boron trifluoride blows your mind. Furthermore, I have a clay model of Boron trifluoride that you will see on your desk before first period starts. And if you consider the diagram technically late, remember that in Italy it would basically be the day before, so in Italy, the home country, this paper is on time."

His mother pointed out, "It's full of inaccuracies, such as the fact that Italy is ahead of us time-wise, not behind us, and Michelangelo was constantly pestered to get the Sistine chapel done. Luckily his teacher seems to have a sense of humor."

Eighth grade boys can see most of what's ludicrous about the world and when they put those notions through their middle school meat grinder of a brain, brilliance comes out the other end.

One boy used to come in and plunk down a five-page literary analysis that was due the following day.

"Is this bad?" he'd say as he pushed his paper toward me across the dark oak table.

I'd pick it up and start to read.

"Is it bad?" he'd ask again.

"I'm not even through the first paragraph."

"I know, but is it bad?"

And then, a moment later, he'd grab the pages back from me, flip to the end and announce, "I feel a bit of genius coming on," as he'd start to scribble a new conclusion.

The other night I was trying to finalize the title of the book I was editing, helping the author choose between three decent options. I decided to take it to my son and his friends, curious how a roomful of eighth grade boys would approach the decision. I briefly explained the idea and content of the book, what it was apparently about and what it was more deeply about. Then I gave them the title choices, explaining that one title (the author's favorite) also already happened to be the title of a different book.

"That doesn't seem to matter though," I told them.

"You're saying it's okay to give the book a title that's already being used by another book?" asked one eighth grade boy.

"Yes, different books can have the same title," I said.

"Then I would just call the book Harry Potter," he said.

What must it be like inside that eighth-grade head?

I imagine it as that magical middle school moment of being the biggest ... the oldest ... the top of the heap, when your wit and intellect suddenly converge and you become one part boy and three parts awesome. Maybe the sweetness is due to how fleeting that moment is. How, once you step out of middle school, you land in that vat of social and academic muck called high school, a stew that you need to wade through for years before finding your balance again. Maybe it's because you don't see that pure, unadulterated self-possession in young men until after they've survived something -- something worse than middle school, that is. 

My son graduated eighth grade last night, and although I feel completely done with middle school, I'm a little sad. Because there truly is no one as hubrant as an eighth grade boy.

The Best Night of The Year

Last night was our town’s high school graduation. After the ceremony the kids get on buses and are driven throughout the town for maybe an hour before they are shepherded away to a secret location to spend all night together. My neighbors throw a lawn party for the event and when night falls and the buses pass by, a hundred of us line the streets banging on pots and pans, standing on top of parked cars screaming and clapping and waving to the newly minted high school graduates. Sometimes someone hauls a drum set to the curb. One boy plays the bagpipes. The procession is led by a flashing police car and fire truck and lasts no more than 10 minutes, but the joy is palpable and it’s incredibly moving. And while it was happening I was thinking that I would give anything – anything -- to be celebrated like that just one time in my life.

I turned to my friend and said, “Maybe we should have this kind of procession for women who’ve been married 20 years. We could all pile into buses, be driven through town and people could cheer for us.” Not because 20 years of marriage is especially hard, but, like high school, it’s a long haul and often fraught with bullshit. Then, tired and depleted, we would all spend an unspeakably long time together at some gaming arcade. The sun would come up and we’d be ferried back home, never so happy to crawl back into our own beds.

Next Stop: Dorm Sheets

 New piece on Huffington Post:

So. Your kid got into a college. Or maybe a few colleges. And the decision has been made. You think you can sit back and relax now because that year of stress and arguments, all those months of waiting, they're all behind you, right? Um, not so fast. No sooner will you send in that acceptance deposit than you will start to receive offers for items that will make your child's college life the dream come true you've been hoping for. And the most insidious of these offers will be for dorm gear. If direct marketing dollars are any barometer of importance, you will quickly start to feel that there's nothing in your life more urgent than purchasing dorm sheets.

My son's school sent us a brochure -- ok, many brochures -- about "packages" they offer for the dorm. Sheets, towels, blankets, a hamper. A little light that clips onto a headboard. The brochure guarantees everything will fit his particular dorm furniture. It says the package can be sent directly to his room, there when he arrives at school. It says I can save hundreds of dollars buying it all this way. Who wouldn't want to do this? It's such a great deal! They even throw in a memory foam mattress topper!

No, don't get the package sent to the school! You need to wash all the sheets and towels first. Plus, the memory foam needs to be opened up so it can "breathe" a bit. Of course. I knew that.

The brochure provides no actual details about the sheets. Only colors. You can't tell how they feel or what they're made of. But if I buy it from a regular store, how will I know I'm getting all the right stuff? What if he needs under-bed storage? A clip-on bed fan? A mini-fridge? A microwave? Who knew that buying sheets for college would be more stressful than the application process itself?

I asked about the dorm package on Facebook and got 63 responses.
Do the package.
Don't do the package.
It's a bargain and convenient.
It's a rip-off.
The package is for losers.
The package sheets are fine.
They pill.
They're stiff.
They fall apart.
They're perfect.
I would never send my child to school with "package" sheets.
Try Garnet Hill; they have 100 percent cottons in extra long. 

Garnet Hill? I don't even buy sheets for myself from Garnet Hill.

ME: Do you want the package sheets or should we go shopping for sheets?
HIM: I don't care.
ME: The package sheets are probably some kind of poly/cotton blend.
HIM: Whatever.
ME: They say we have to order really soon if we want our choice of patterns.
HIM: Ok.
ME: So, should we order?
HIM: I don't care.
ME: But they're your sheets. It's your bed.
HIM: Mom, just do it however you want.

I know. I know. I know. They're just sheets. Why, then, does it feel like they're so much more?
When I went to college, I took sheets from our linen closet and stuffed them in a milk crate. Actually, now that I think of it, I totally bought new sheets. I can still picture them: ivory with pale blue and orange paisley, a little brown detail. I remember the brown because the second set of sheets were solid brown and I sometimes paired the brown pillowcase with the paisley one since they complemented each other. I can't believe I remember my college sheets. It's settled. This is too special. No package.

ME: Do you want one set of sheets or two? If you bring only one set, you have to wash, dry and put them back on the bed all in the same day. If you bring two sets, you can take one set off, put the new set on and then wash the first set when it's convenient.
HIM: Wait...you need to wash sheets?

Don't buy the memory foam anywhere but Target or it won't fit properly.
I just got one somewhere else.
Can you return it? It's going to be too short.
But it will just be short down where his feet are, right? His feet don't need memory foam, do they?
Ok. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Of course we all managed to get through college without memory foam mattress toppers. But when I google dorm beds, it looks like the mattresses haven't been replaced since the eighties.

ME: Honey, pick out the sheets you like. They need to be extra long.
HIM: I like these.
ME: Those?! Those are 400 thread count! After the year you just put me through, you don't deserve 400 thread count. Two hundred, tops.

From mid-August to mid-September, my Facebook feed is littered with parents' pictures of their kids' decorated dorm rooms, each one looking like a page straight out of a catalog. One friend confided that her son's room looked too much like a prison cell and she might find a local designer to put together some window treatments.

I'm feeling guilty about the thread count.
He doesn't care about the thread count.
But what if he gets sick and he doesn't feel cozy?
He'll be so happy just being on his own, he'd be fine sleeping on a rock.

But what if there's a bellyache, a fever, a day when a bed must be crawled back into -- a pillow hugged, a blanket pulled up and over a head? Don't those days deserve the best and softest sheets money can buy? If anyone told me 18 years ago, while my son was still wrapped in his first tiny flannel blankie, that I would someday give his college sheets more than three minutes of consideration, I would have deemed them insane. Yet, here I am, having spent three months on it. Is that to obscure the fact that maybe I haven't prepared him enough to go out into the world on his own? Or simply because I'm terrified about what will fill my brain once his day-to-day care is out of my control?

Is buying sheets my last chance to mother him? No, don't answer that.


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Dead After 50

 New essay on Huffington Post!


Last Thursday night, I texted a friend: "What should I wear to a Dead show? No tie dye available," and got back, "Tank top, no bra."

"I'm afraid that ship has sailed," I wrote.

I'd been invited to see Bob Weir play. I mostly listen to NPR these days, but the concert was only a mile from my house. I haven't seen the Grateful Dead in decades, but really, how much could have changed?

READ MORE HERE