The National Eating Disorders Associationkicked off its awareness week on 2/24 building on their campaign of “Come As You Are.” This theme was first presented in 2019 as a call to all individuals experiencing issues with body acceptance and disordered eating, regardless of their background, to tell their story and be heard. This year’s campaign calls for people to reflect on the positive steps they’ve taken toward accepting themselves and others, including those born of set backs and falling off course.
Even though I have been in “full remission” from Anorexia Nervosa for 8 years now, there have been days and weeks where I catch myself thinking and behaving with the logic of my past disordered past self. These moments are usually triggered by stress. Knowing that stress has the power to conjure up ghosts of Julia’s past, I decided to create a contingency plan to make sure I stay healthy in both my body and mind.
One of the major positive steps I’ve taken this year has been to meal prep.
My “cooking for one” game has been sad. I held this belief that cooking was best saved for when I had company or other people to cook for. Subsequently, I would either stretch the same food out for days or would eat an assortment of “snacks” between clients and commutes. A couple of months ago while at work on a very hectic day I caught myself thinking “you don’t get to eat today.” That automatic thought freaked me out because I haven’t thought that way in over 15 years. It was mean, punishing, absolute, and not at all reflective of the present me in the room. Combined with the lethargy, irritable mood, and GI issues I was experiencing (perhaps a combo of stress, the environment, and my eating habits) I had to take action.
RSVP for One
I decided to reframe “cooking for one” as treating myself as my own dinner guest. I started my action plan by making a grocery list of pantry items to create more meal options. I also researched recipes that weren’t time consuming to ensure that I could work meal prepping around my work schedule. I chose which days of the week I could cook – Sunday nights after work and Thursday mornings. I kept a note in my iPhone where I would jot down ideas of what to cook on my commutes to and from work. This helped me to appreciate and get excited about the process of planning my meals. I have been able to stick to this plan because I made it an enjoyable process. The second I start feeling like I haveto do it means the plan needs to be modified.
People can still experience distorted body image and eating habits even if they aren’t diagnosed with an eating disorder. Developing a healthy relationship with yourself and with food can be a life long process, but trust that it’s possible. Help exists in the form of counselors, therapists, nutritionists, holistic health professionals (love you, Dr. Huang) to name a few who can guide you toward a positive body-mind connection from thought to table.
Redefining my relationship with food was one of the hardest challenges I overcame in my recovery from Anorexia. It’s been a decade plus journey with plenty of weak moments and falling off of the wagon. In an effort to hold myself accountable and practice what I preach, to both my clients and loved ones, I’d like to tell you a bit about the role nutrition played in getting me to where I am today.
The Miseducation of Julia Fragias…
The body is a wonderfully efficient machine.
Starve and abuse it, but in a continuous loop of feedback mechanisms, the brain catches wind of what you’re doing and tweaks every cell in the body to maintain your existence. When I started to eat again, my brain clearly didn’t trust me. It adjusted my metabolism to a lower rate in order to make sure the calories I put into my body wouldn’t disappear.
It took a while to earn that trust back.
The image you see above from 2007 is a softer, fuller girl almost 2 years into recovery from Anorexia. I didn’t know how to exercise properly. I didn’t know how to likefood, much less understand now-common concepts like macronutrients. I was instructed by my then counselor not to restrict food and was assured my metabolism would normalize. Eventually.
But, of course, I was still afraid to eat.
I categorized foods into “safe” and “off limits.” How did I decide what made them safe? They were low in fat or fat free. Vegetables or fruit were safe, as long as they didn’t bloat me. Liquids were safer than solids. It also helped if they were low in calories per serving. I ate my “safe foods” repetitively and copiously.
My criteria for safe were so far off the mark that they actually contributed to my rapid weight gain. As my body continued to expand, I had to fight the urge to restrict my eating. I wanted someone to give me a magic menu or list of foods that I could eat without anxiety.
I wanted safety, but I needed education.
Through therapy, I was getting served a whole lot of how to eat through mindfulness, which was helpful – chew your food well, eat slowly, savor the flavors, be grateful for the nourishment – but nobody was telling me what to eat.
How could I begin to structure balanced meals that would fuel my body efficiently?
Count your macros…
My self education was to obsessively watch fitness channels on Youtube. This was when I first came across the term macronutrient. The body builders and fitness professionals I was taking notes from all shared the same advice – count your macros. It’s a catchy word, especially when repeated like a mantra, but what exactly are they?
Carbohydrates, Proteins and Fats: compounds we derive the most energy from and that make up the bulk of our diets as humans. Our cells need these nutrients to grow and develop properly.
Finally, I had something specific to focus on. I concentrated on the ratios of these compounds that the fitness community recommended were optimal for fitness and good health. I constructed a daily diet that consisted of ready made and home made protein powder based shakes, protein bars, bags of nuts, bananas for my pre-workout, and cans of water packed tuna for dinner.
Finally, I had a new “safe” list!
Problem was, it was even more restricted than my previous one.
My workouts were cardio endurance based only and lasted between 60 and 90 minutes to the point of utter exhaustion. There are a number of reasons why this is not the fitness route you want to go down, but I will get into that in my next post. I dropped about ten pounds, but I was constipated, had started to develop eczema patches all over my body and odd outbreaks of hives, had terrible insomnia and brain fog. As if that weren’t all bad enough, I put on virtually no muscle tone.
At the end of 2007, my annual blood test indicated I was deficient in many vitamins and borderline anemic. Essentially, I was malnourished. My doctor didn’t help matters either by telling me I needed to lose a few pounds. He came to this conclusion based on a chart of height and weight ranges of which I was at the high end of normal. FYI – this chart also said I was a normal weight when I had full blown anorexia. Scary, truly.
I left the doctor’s office terrified.
I abandoned my diet and let my body’s cravings guide my food choices. This was recommended by a therapist who believed the body intuitively knows what it needs. She was also trying to prevent my patterns of restriction and categorizing food. I remember meeting up with an old friend, who had struggled with childhood obesity and was now super fit. I asked him how he learned to eat properly. He laughed at me and said, “Julia. NO ONE eats properly. It’s how you exercise that counts.”
Working with a trainer, he put on lean muscle that raised his metabolism and allowed his body to burn off more calories at rest.
And he noticed something interesting.
The fitter he became, the less he craved the fried pork chops, plantain chips and soda of his youth. Remember what I said about the wonderful efficiency of the body? As his body grew healthier and stronger, so did his food choices.
He strongly urged me to contact his trainer. After I got over myself (my bad experience with personal trainers was documented in my post A Body Is A Terrible Thing To Waste) I set up my first session in August of 2008.
I started on the strength-training program the trainer designed for me. It was around the 6 week mark that I started to feel something I never expected to feel again. Hunger.
I was hungry all the time.
To actually feel my stomach rumbling and experience the weakness of NOT attending to that hunger was frightening to me, but also a huge step forward. Hunger was a sensation I had psychologically dulled for years with my disordered eating habits. So, for the first time since my recovery began, I ate when I was actually hungry.
This. Was. A. Game changer.
I was most ravenous within an hour of my workouts. I found myself craving meat, which was shocking because I had been a vegetarian for 7 years and the thought of animal protein in my mouth used to nauseate me. This hunger and these new cravings were my body’s call to action.
On one of the last truly hot and humid days in NYC, I decided to wear one of my favorite outfits – a black crepe halter dress with plunging neck and back lines. I love this dress not just for its fit, but also because it shows off the muscle tone of my upper back and chest. I feel strong, ethereal and sexy whenever I wear this dress. It’s one of those wardrobe staples every girl should possess. By the time I arrived at my destination, I was glazed in a dewy sweat sheen.
I stepped into the elevator with a middle aged woman and three men, one of which held the door for me and offered to press my floor. I thanked him for his good manners. One by one, the men got off at their respective floors. When the elevator reached mine, it was just myself and the woman in the back. I noticed she had a cane and was leaning into the wall staring at the floors lighting up overhead. As the doors opened, I picked up the hem of my dress and started to step out. What I heard next shocked me. “Wear a bra!!” she angrily blurted out. It took me a second to process what she said. As I turned back around to confront this unprovoked insult, she pressed the button to close the elevator door in my face.
I was shaken and for the rest of my day, I tried to comprehend what had triggered this woman to body shame a complete stranger. The universe’s attempts to make good on the event by showering me with random compliments about the dress or my body did nothing to take the edge off her insult. Its sting stayed with me long into my commute home in the evening. I looked at the sea of faces sitting across from me and wondered were these people also passing judgment on me? What is it that provokes us to shame each other?
I have written about the topic of bullying before in previous posts. Females choose a more social form of aggression as their preferred method of taking others down a few notches. Body shaming is just one tactic. This form of relational bullying is usually rooted in deep issues of self esteem. It is used to maintain status, weed out competition, and provide a means of addressing fear and jealousy. Was this the reason for the middle aged woman’s verbal bomb? Targeting me because I presented a mirror to her of what she wasn’t and subsequently taking me down in order to alleviate her own insecurities? Then another thought hit me – if women like her are doing this to each other well into middle age, what hope do our little girls have of building a healthy self image and learning to be “girls’ girls?”
After a lot of thinking, I came to the conclusion that the best action I could take to counter the shame was to be that example. After all, I do consider myself a “girls’ girl.” I appreciate the beauty of other women and celebrate in their successes. I am able to be this way because I have worked through the self esteem issues of my youth and accept who I am at this time in my life. I complimented the dress of a woman standing next to me on the train, which made her smile for a good long minute after I told her. I held the elevator for another woman rushing to catch it, who breathlessly thanked me and then told me to have a wonderful day upon exiting. I helped a middle aged woman on the train remove a bracelet that was squeezing into her wrist and causing her major discomfort. She called me an angel and showered me with kisses and hugs. All these acts of random kindness left me feeling a more loving vibe that reverberated to those around me. Ironically, I saw the woman that had shamed me waiting for the elevators a couple of weeks later. I held the door for her as she entered. She said nothing to me. I couldn’t help but look at her, wondering if she recognized me. It was clear she didn’t. With her eyes fixated on the numbers lighting up above, I exited the elevator and this time, no comments followed me out.
“You don’t want people to think you’re letting yourself go.”
“What a shame! You have such a youthful face.”
“No, really…how old ARE you?”
All of the above statements have been made to me by friends, relatives and surprisingly, complete strangers. What they are all commenting on is the color of my hair; not a complete head of grey, but a village of silver and white that sprang up at my sideburns and crown beginning at the age of 19. Yes, 19. This early onset of grey is genetic; both my sister and I inherited the premature greys from our mother. Three traceable generations before her went grey in their early 20s. I remember a story about my great grandmother almost becoming an “old maid”. As her male relatives haggled with potential husbands over her dowry, her dark hair became fully grey. By the time she was married at age of 30, which was considered over the hill in those days, she was perceivedto be much older due to her hair color. It probably didn’t help that her husband was also almost 60.
Speaking of perception, societal pressure for women to maintain a “youthful” appearance is evident in the way we react to graying hair. A recent UK news story spoke of scientists isolating the gene that causes hair to lose its pigment. The end goal would be to eventually create a pill that would target that gene and “stop the clock” on the greying process.
When I saw my first white hair at 19, I promptly plucked it out. At the time, I was also dyeing my hair to match my moods (thank you, Manic Panic). As a result, I never allowed enough of the grey to come in to be noticeable to myself or anyone else. Paradoxically, a baby face with a head of silver had become a beauty trend. Girls and young women purposely dye their hair different shades of gray before their biological clocks have them looking so au naturale. So, where is the disconnect? Going gray is only acceptable if you choose to do it and are visibly in your 20’s as opposed to it happening naturally. J-Lo is 46 years old with amazing skin and body fitness. If she stopped dyeing her hair, she most certainly would have some greys. Would that make her any less of a sex symbol? Would her younger boyfriend leave her? Would the world tell her that she was letting herself go?
I wanted to see how long I could go without reaching for the L’Oreal bottle. I decided to stop dyeing my roots in June of 2015. I was already sporting a tan and the village of grey coming in on my head was being oxidized by the sun giving it a reddish and blondish hue depending on the light. My clients complimented my “highlights” and my deepening bronze skin tone. It was still all positives once September rolled in and I started my semester. Within the first three weeks of school, I got my first comment. It came from a girl who had a penchant for blurting out whatever was on her mind in the middle of class no matter how inappropriate (social pragmatics = 0). Sitting outside our classroom, she looked at me and said, “What’s up with your hair?” I asked what she meant. “You don’t dye it,” she replied in a flat tone. While I was mildly annoyed in the moment, it didn’t deter me from maintaining my decision to keep it REAL. I told her I liked how it looked and kept reading my textbook.
By the end of October, there was a solid inch of grey hair from my crown downward. The tan was also fading and as the semester became more rigorous, my hair was going up in a bun most days to be out of the way. I arrived to school sometime around Halloween and the security guard in front of the gate stopped me from entering. He asked for my ID and when I showed it to him, he did not believe it was me. He kept saying that it did not look like me. I took my hair down and shook it out to match the style in the grainy image on my card. Still, he was adamant that it wasn’t me in the ID. He then called over the other female guard to show her my ID. All this time, there were young people filtering past us and none of them were being stopped for IDs. So, I made mention of that. The answer: They’re students. Before I had a chance to answer that I, TOO, was a student, the female guard playfully hits her colleague and tells him it is my ID, it’s just my hair that was throwing him off. They both laughed and instead of apologizing to me for all the trouble, he thought it would be a good idea to compare me to the bride of Frankenstein with her grey streaks and wild up-do. Your Halloween joke was not funny.
As final exam time approached in early December, I had experienced a few more incidents. The post office worker who told me I was “brave” for leaving so much grey. The 20-something year old boy who made a crass comment about the color of “other hair” on my body. And the handful of much older gentlemen who complimented my hair and asked how I take such good care of myself. More than anything else, the little comments were wearing me down; things like you look so tired, school is aging you, stop putting your hair up if you don’t want people to say anything. I found myself near tears as I wrestled with the urge to dye my hair again. In the end, I made an appointment just after Christmas and dyed my locks back to black. What broke me was the idea that major judgements that could affect my future, both personally and professionally, would be made based on the “age” of my hair. I left the beauty salon feeling like I had my armor back, not my youth.
John Legend’s “All Of Me” is a melodious appraisal of all the reasons why he is so head over heels in love with his woman, including her “perfect imperfections”. It’s a beautiful line that has gotten me thinking about the parts of ourselves we fear being rejected over and the traits we see in others as unacceptable or non-negotiable. Let’s explore…
Last night I watched thisdocumentary made by a man who was worried that his penis size would prevent him from finding a partner in life. After a very public humiliation, he set out on a journey that took him to several corners of the world in search of ways to augment his slightly lower than average penis. After trying some pretty shocking methods, he finally threw in the towel realizing that the issue was his own self esteem. The more he projected his inadequacy, the less likely someone would want to date him. So, at films end, he bravely asked a girl he had met during shooting out on a date and she bluntly told him, “There’s more to you than just THAT (i.e. his penis)…”
Even the most secure individual probably has some physical or personality driven feature that could subject them to rejection. This follows what I mentioned earlier about non-negotiable traits. The filmmaker’s girlfriend turned down his proposal because she felt his penis size was a non-negotiable. I wonder how she would have felt if it was the other way around and someone told her the size of chest was the deal breaker. Each of us is entitled to have our mental check list for a partner, but sometimes those supposed imperfections can be perfect if we just embrace them full on.
There was a period in my recovery from an Anorexia where the man I was dating found it important to point out how much weight I was gaining and specifically, what parts of my body were now unattractive to him. Some of this he said to my face with a “you better do something about that or it’s a wrap.” Other commentary was saved for mutual friends and coworkers. When we broke up, he did something any woman would be mortified to learn. He publicly posted that I was a “fat bitch.” Shortly thereafter, another man became interested in me, but my brain was so wrapped up in being too big that I completely rejected him. It must have been exhausting to be around me at the time because the whole thing made me such an insecure pile of flesh. One of my closest male friends had once told me he broke it off with a wonderful, gorgeous girl because she was tremendously insecure about her body. Her constant need for affirmation just drained him. His next girlfriend was much plainer looking than the previous, but her confidence was infectious. He couldn’t get enough of her. (Note to selves, ladies!!!)
To paraphrase Dan Savage’s comments in the film, each one of us has to know what we bring to the table and work that to our advantage. However difficult you may find it, loving all of you first will allow someone else to love all of you right back. Thank you for putting it so well, Mr. Legend!
I can’t tell you how many times, when discussing “trouble spots” with a client they refer to their cellulitis. What they mean to say is their cellulite, but the term they choose has nothing to do with the aesthetic appearance of their wobbly bits (see image above). It is understandable that for some women, the look of cellulite can feel like a serious medical condition. With summer unexpectedly here, they become acutely aware of their “imperfections” and panic; rushing to the spa for any firming, toning and detoxifying treatments available in the hopes that they can bare their flesh without fierce judgements. Cellulite doesn’t happen overnight, though. We are all born with a certain amount of fat cells that are distributed throughout our bodies according to our genetics. As we enter puberty, hormonal fluctuations affect our metabolism and shifts the distribution of the fat underneath our skin. The same thing occurs as we age and enter into menopause. In 80 to 90% of women, some level of cellulite will be visible; however the following factors greatly influence its widespread formation. Take notes:
Poor circulation and lymphatic drainage
The tissues in your body need to be fed and then flushed of the by products and toxins left behind after the fact. However, if you have a genetic or pathological insufficiency, the “toilet water” sits and festers, causing the breakdown of the matrix that holds the fat cells in their proper place. Since it all has to get flushed up and out, the areas most affected are the extremities. Exactly where you don’t want to see the cellulite.
Increased levels of stress hormones in the blood
We all know a high stress lifestyle can take a toll on our health, but it also has an affect on our fat distribution and connective tissue. Cortisol and catecholamines are stress hormones release by the adrenal glands as part of our “fight-or-flight” sympathetic nervous response. The body instinctively slows its metabolism and increases its “padding” of fat as it reacts to survive. The presence of the hormones over long periods of time can start to break down connective tissue, which as mentioned above, creates the matrix that holds the fat cells at bay. Once the matrix is damaged, the fat cells push up against the lower layers of skin, which is the puckered look that we all recognize as cellulite. The slowed metabolism also causes weight gain, which swells the size of the fat cells, making them pucker up even more.
Weight fluctuations occur as a result of physiological and hormonal changes. Step on the scale in the morning and again at night, and you could see your number rise or fall by 5-8 lbs. This is normal. Patterns of weight loss and gain over long periods of time of more than 20 lbs, damages the elasticity of the skin and connective tissue matrix. Out pops the cellulite.
Remember how we are all born with a certain number of fat cells? This procedure removes them from specific areas of the body also referred to as “re-contouring.” Once the fat cells are gone, they are gone. However, should the individual gain weight, the fat cells that are left redistribute the bulk in places the individual never had before. This is why the best candidates for liposuction are those who lead an active lifestyle and have a consistently clean diet.
And speaking of active lifestyles and clean diets, let’s segue into how one can address cellulite. Certain treatments and topical applications can produce visible results if the person remains consistent with modifications to their diet and exercise. Here are some of the one’s I can vouch for in my professional and personal practice. Still taking notes, I hope :-).
Dry Brushing – One of my favorites is dry brushing. The practice consists of lightly brushing the surface of the skin in long upward strokes, starting at the lower limbs and moving upwards toward the heart. The brush bristles should be made of natural fibers and the brush itself easy to grip in order to properly handle it. Not only will you exfoliate the top layer of skin, but the increased blood flow to the capillary networks renews and tightens the skin’s surface. The movement towards the heart promotes proper circulation and flushing of the tissues via the lymphatic system. Done daily, it’s a great way to diminish the dimples.
Caffeine, topically applied – As a little girl in Greece, every female relative young and old swore by their CLARINScellulite cream and slathered in liberally in all corners and crevices of their bodies. What many creams geared toward cellulite contain is caffeine and what they do is act as a diuretic for the tissues, flushing out excess fluid and helping to tighten the surface of the skin. The cellulite puckers less; happy times on the beach. What I have seen work best is an application of caffeinated cream prior to a workout. The combination of an exercise induced sweat and that of the caffeine is like a one-two punch, firming and flushing. Also, since tissue repair happens during sleep, an application at night can be effective as well.
Get your sweat on and build muscle – Recall how earlier we talked about people having a predisposed amount of fat cells that are distributed under the deepest level of skin in different ways dependent on genetics, hormones and age. These factors are sort of written in stone; however what you can control is how much a fat cell can swell. Therefore, the amount of lean muscle you build will reduce the size of the fat cells and help spike your metabolism, as muscle requires more calories than fat for maintenance. Reducing your overall body fat % will counter the factors you cannot control. A wonderful little exercise known as the Bulgarian Split Squat can do a whole lot to diminish the look of the dimples that many women have directly under their gluteal fold. At least, that’s what I have found within my own workouts. A tiny addendum to this bit on exercise is to make sure you are hydrating properly to flush your system out while also maintaining a balanced diet that is specific to your activity level and overall bodily needs. Consulting a registered dietician or certified nutritionist for advice is a great way to make sure you are eating right for you, cellulite or not.
It is also important to keep in mind that within that 80-90% of women who have cellulite are the fashion models, actresses and popular girls we gush(ed) over and/or envy. It’s a fact of physiological life that we can address to a certain extent, but inevitably must come to accept. Be good to your body through all its transformations and transitions and hopefully, it will be good to you.
October 13th was the 8th anniversary of my recovery from Anorexia. Back on that date in 2004, I broke down on the floor of my bedroom in the middle of the night. I was staring into the demon bowels of the disease that had dictated my life for 3 years. It sucked the air from my lungs. I couldn’t live another day with its crushing pressure. It took me two weeks to leave the confines of a friend’s home (where I had escaped to cocoon myself from reality) and once I did emerge, I felt like I was in some kind of silent film. The world moved slowly, while I felt frenetic. I quit and distanced myself from everything in my life that I had allowed to enable the disease. I went into therapy. I ate a bowl of black eyed peas and rice, my first meal, with trepidation. My stomach; my intestines; my mind slowly came back to life. With belly distended, I proudly proclaimed on whatever social networks existed at that time that I was recovering. I was still very thin, but by the New Year 2005, my consistent eating led my body to “betray” me.
The life preserving shut down of my metabolism was meant to make sure I wouldn’t starve again. I was afraid to eat, but I did anyway. I submitted my food journals to my therapist who approved and told me to eat more. “Variety” she stressed, but I was fixated on foods I felt safe with. I did gratuitous amounts of cardio at odd hours, so no one would stare at my body at the gym. They had known me when I was at my thinnest and I feared their assumption that I was letting myself go. My fears were realized when in the Spring of that year, a trainer approached me and offered to give me a fitness assessment. The masochist in me accepted and after running his various tests, proclaimed to me that I was borderline obese. Oh, the shame that washed over me. For years, that left me with such an acrid taste for personal trainers. He told me to cut out the “junk food” and come see him for sessions at the gym. I was living on tuna fish and pita breads, fueling my workouts with coffee and bee pollen smoothies. I never went back to that gym. In fact I stopped going to any gym. My weight and health habits fluctuated erratically between 2005 and 2008, until a good friend recommended his trainer. I got over myself and the shame I had felt in my previous experience and contacted him. He assessed me through a short circuit of activities and introduced the concept of strength training. He taught me how muscle mass and strength would benefit me in the long run, making my metabolism more efficient and letting my body reshape itself into it’s own “normal.”
The seed he planted germinated when I went back to school for massage. I was hit with Anatomy, Physiology, Neuro and Kinesiology. I never soaked up information with such appetite before. I couldn’t get enough. This knowledge enhanced my workouts and sessions with my trainer because I understood how my body was designed to function. Suddenly, Mr. “Borderline Obese” became the joke that I should have never taken seriously. (Side note here: I saw his picture and name on a real estate placard recently, which clearly shows us he did not have a glowing career in exercise physiology after all). I also returned to therapy with a more cognitive approach to help get to the root of my control issues and take them head on…much like throwing knees and elbows during pad drills. I channeled my emotions into my workouts and learned, often times the hard way, what an art BALANCE is. Now, as a massage therapist, it is so important to foster this healthy sense of bodily awareness within my clients, wherever possible and always when solicited.
So when I was contacted recently by a Fitness/Wellness website for a review of their services, I stepped up to the plate and joined. SlimKicker is a point based program kind of in the vein of Weight Watchers, except that it values activities and nutrition at various levels and creates challenges for its users to foster long term health habits. It also provides a calorie counter, fitness tracker and other resources. There is the community aspect too, as users can post inspirational feed on the homepage, join each other in challenges/groups and “friend” each other for support. The About Us section states that the site is all about learning proper nutrition, portion control, and acquiring important habits. In that vein, upon signing up I was asked for my weight and what my goal was – weight loss or strengthening/toning. Although I chose the fitness oriented option, the pop up that followed was more for weight loss, citing how many calories and percentages I needed to consume in order to achieve my goal. The amount it noted was no where near what I would need to fuel my body and my workouts. To drive this point home, I logged only my exercise habits; not my food intake. If I followed what the site suggested, I would essentially send my body into starvation mode.
It is important to note here that there is a disclaimer in their Terms and Conditions that states the site should notbe used by anyone with any medical or nutritional conditions and that content is for informational purposes only, not meant to replace professional medical advice. Obviously no one with an eating disorder has any business on a site where everything is meticulously logged and counted, but many people without said issues can still have disordered eating habits and cycles of guilt they feel compelled to share via social network. The site’s inspirational feed is 80% laments at having eaten too much of something labeled “bad” either by the user themselves or the nutritional information offered to them by the website (Remember that disclaimer,guys?). Also, there are statements of pride over extra exercises and completed challenges; however these inspirational statements are edged with complaints about weight gain or lack of loss (again, that disclaimer). This is not the site’s fault. They want you to be positive, stay focused and band together for support. Our society is more to blame for fostering this widespread self loathing and depreciation. The hate and guilt are infectious and breed a vicious cycle that will continue so long as we choose to continue “sharing,” despite any health oriented social networks best efforts.
SlimKicker, if used properly, can function as a motivator for adopting a fitness regimen because it holds you accountable for your activities. Much like a TO DO list, if exercise is factored into a week and logged daily, it makes you all the more aware of the need to check it off your list. After doing so for so many times, it will hopefully become a natural part of your daily lifestyle. I’m still not a fan of food logging due to my past; however if you truly don’t know what you have eaten in a day, keeping a food diary can help you track unhealthy patterns like over eating and of course, under eating. My advice is to pay attention to your body’s individual needs and seek out a registered dietician and/or nutritionist if you find the process to be overwhelming.