I love Halloween. It’s that time of year where I get to creatively fight off the depression that tries to creep its way into my body and mind. Each passing day becomes shorter and darker, as I whisper to the sinking sun, “Why must you leave me again? We were such good friends.”
Luckily, I’m open to feeling some good too so I let the little things offer me moments of appreciation, like when the fog blesses you as you drive through the leaf-dusted backroads of the Pacific Northwest. Or the near neon landscapes, painted in fire yellows, blood reds and brilliant greens that make you feel like you’re in a fantasy film with forest elves and hobbits hiding inside stags, waiting to pour magical potions into your glass.
And then there’s another side to that day dreamy magic: those dreaded pumpkin spice lattes. Gross. Luckily, I never got sucked into that black hole of indulgence. I say black hole because we all know the feeling: you order one drink as a “treat” and then the next day you think,”Oh, I’ll get another small one, why not?” Then another one. And soon, you’re spending $50+ a week on liquid crack. And you can’t get enough because these tricky “treats” are everywhere.
No wonder we struggle with boundaries. No wonder our reality of managing addiction is a total shit show. The advice is always that terrible M word too — “moderation” — which pretty much works for, nearly no one. Not only is it completely arbitrary, the definition for one person can be completely different than another’s. You might say one small piece of candy a day is moderation. Another person might say one piece of candy after each meal is considered moderate. For myself, I eat candy about two times a year. So you may be wondering, is this the skeleton in YOUR closet? Are you a sugar addict and don’t want to admit it? Are you in denial of the gross effects of sugary foods on your mental health and well being? All this could very well be true but for me, it is a different kind of skeleton. It’s called orthorexia.
The word sounds like it could be several things: the fear of an orthopedic surgeon (Dr. Shawn Baker would love this). Or the state of experiencing extreme bone loss. Or perhaps, just slim orthodontists. The correct answer? Orthorexia is a state of being obsessed with what you eat. Specifically, it is an excessive preoccupation with eating “clean” or “healthy” food.
This is the skeleton in my health closet. I think I struggle with orthorexia. There, I said it. And it’s not for the reasons you might typically assume: I don’t care how much I weigh. I’m not into calorie counting or losing body fat. And I really like my ass. For people who know me well, my attitude towards metabolic health is rooted in compassion and creating pathways for consistency, with a holistic understanding that what works for some, may not work for others. There is no magic pill or silver bullet that is going to save us all from metabolic disease. However, beyond my education and professional experience, I have come to know the term orthorexia in a more personal way. The way I discovered my own relationship with it wasn’t a slap in the proverbial chubby face, rather, it was a whisper in my ear as I stood over a loaf of sourdough bread in my kitchen.
That whisper became a whirlwind as my mind took me down the rabbit hole of the eternal low carb debate: is it best to eat a slice of this sourdough in the morning with a giant schmear of butter or is it better to eat it with dinner, after a large portion of protein (Dr. Jason Fung has big opinions about bread and fat)? Or maybe it’s better to eat it right before or after I workout? Or maybe I really shouldn’t eat the bread at all, because technically, my body doesn’t need that carb to survive and it’s very well known that refined carbohydrates contribute to atherosclerosis (heart disease), high blood pressure, high blood sugar, inflammation, insulin issues, arthritis, mood swings and a gazillion other metabolic conditions. Then the other voice chimed in: but sourdough is fermented, it’s bioavailable to the human gut and it tastes so. damn. good. And I’m not eating a loaf of it, I am eating a slice. Plus, Dr. Bill Schindler makes it himself, eats it often, still considers himself “low carb” and well, look at him— he’s fuckin’ ripped! He also has his own personal story of disordered eating, so if he can have a little bread, so can I, right??
Maybe. I say maybe because here’s the big question for me, and probably you: if you are eating a food that you love, and part of your mind/self/inner critic is feeling guilty or doubtful of this food as being truly beneficial to your metabolic health, ask yourself this: what will happen AFTER I eat this food? Will I feel like absolute shit or will I have an enviable amount of energy equivalent to my favorite immortal gods? Will your mood be steady? Will your digestion be above par? Or will you desperately seek out comfort or relief in other similar foods? Will a food coma set in? What is your blood sugar after eating that food? Hence, this Halloween blog post to get you reflecting…
I have checked in with all of the above. After I eat a slice of sourdough (with at least a tablespoon of butter, two eggs, bacon and more meat), it doesn’t trigger cravings. I go about the rest of my day eating a mostly animal-based, whole food dietary pattern. I do not lay awake at night beating myself up for eating a slice or two of sourdough bread. Nor do I purge or starve myself, or do an insane extra workout to “make up” for eating it. But I still wonder, should I break up with bread forever? And if I do, is that an orthorexic approach?
I am truly curious. When and how we do know when a particular food item needs to be kicked out of our household or banned from our mouth? How do we create a balance, an equilibrium, amidst all the food noise that our environment thrusts upon us every single day of our lives? How do we survive the holidays without binging on crap consumables?? Here’s my answer: Listen to your body. Honor your deepest, and yes, woo-woo, best version of your self. Eat what serves your purpose. Consider and honor your Why. In this context, I am talking about the Why behind your food. Why do you eat what you do? Convenience? Price? Palatability? Sometimes I eat food to survive but most of the time, I really enjoy it. My concern, or Why, for myself is about longevity and how I can stay out of the doctor’s office and off medication for as long as possible.
So if prioritizing some foods and eliminating or reducing others supports my Why, both mentally and physically, then hyperventilating about being the weird health nut or sounding the orthorexic alarm is not necessary. Once we experience and acknowledge the foods that harm us, then we know the foods that need to take a hike. Today, on Halloween, sourdough is the least of my problems. I understand that we are seeking fun and celebration during a time of year that is hard for a lot of us. I certainly don’t want to take away from that joyous ritual. Candy and all of its creepy “edible” cousins are everywhere so I will be sure to have a plan to keep them out of my mouth. I will happily greet trick or treaters with my spooky chameleon outfit but minus the candy passing. Instead, I’ll be passing out temporary tattoos. I’ll also be making some magic potions for friends who stop by to imbibe for a warm, soothing beverage. And if you’re anything like me, instead of sinking into a depression alongside the fading sun, I hope you find a way to build up your Why with as many friends and family as possible. Like our own bodies and minds, they want to feel good and celebrate. What do you have to offer them?
