I’ve written previously about my transition into the paleolithic eating ways. I spoke of the initial difficulties, but then the benefits for me in particular, to choose to eat the diverse and nutrient rich foods that I do. I also spoke about cheatin’ and how, for me, overall, it just isn’t worth it. On a recent holiday in the sun, I was reminded of this very fact and it got me to thinking; and writing, once again.
Holidays. Those blissful, let loose, breaks from the norm. I was recently lucky enough to go away for 9 days, to beautiful Mallorca, up in the North East where the mountains are dense, the goats lazily munch in the fields and wild cacao trees grow in abundance.
Joining my parents in a small town house, myself and my other half really did have a wonderful time. We explored, we adventured, we cycled, we walked, we shopped and we ate. Now my intention, as always, was to try to be prepared and continue to eat fresh, unprocessed, fantastic food whilst away. Please, do not get me wrong! I know we all only live once, I’m not about to cut my nose off to spite my face and I do know how to enjoy myself, trust me!
But I also know what the effects of deviating away from clean eating have on not only my body, but also my mood and ultimately, my ability to feel great and train well. If you recall, I train a lot and my goal is to fly to Ohio to take part in the Obstacle Course Racing World Championships. Since I last wrote, I have qualified to enter the Champs. I guess I’m partly an athlete. So I’ve got good reason to want to train hard!
It is not difficult to eat well in the Mediterranean; fresh, beautiful food is everywhere. The markets were simply brimming with local produce – gorgeous, plump tomatoes, giant peppers as big as your head, huge courgettes, shiny aubergines, juicy, fresh watermelons and the best oranges in the world. The meat and fish were simply fantastic, everywhere we went they were cooked to perfection. I couldn’t fault local restaurants for their selections, for every creamy, saucy dish; there was a fresh, simply cooked fish, meat and vegetable choice that was to die for.
But alongside all this deliciousness, there came the teases. Panaderia’s (bakeries) on every street. Small, clean, gorgeous affairs, run by locals with a real passion for their art. My parents would, each morning, come down for breakfast and announce ‘We’re going to the bakery, what would everyone like, a pastry?’
But this isn’t your standard apple turnover, warmed up in the back of the supermarket and dumped into a clear plastic box. No, we’re talking ensaimada con crema, torta milhojas, pastel de hojaldre. Devine, delicate and buttery pastries, with rich cream fillings and sugary glazes. Each one handmade and baked fresh every morning before sunrise. Along with this there was the bread, the ‘pan’ or ‘baguette’, again hand made fresh every day. And you knew it was fresh, because the very next morning it was as hard as lead. No additional preservatives, chemicals or poop in these baked goods. Nope.
Which made it all the more very, very tempting. I had the (mis)fortune of being with my Dad when he went to order the pastries one morning. My Dad speaks Spanish fantastically well and whilst I was in awe of him chitter chatting to the locals, I was in equal awe of the sights and the smells. The scent was just divine, heavenly even, but highly likely to give me a massive sugar rush, being someone who doesn’t each sugar (oh alright, in fruit!)
Now a holiday is a holiday right? It’s a chance to relax a little and take in the atmosphere, the sights, the sounds and the food stuffs of the culture you are immersing yourself in. I wanted to enjoy myself, but I wanted to also remain as true to paleo and my beliefs as I could. Eating out I had avoided the large, communal basket of freshly baked local bread. I had skipped desert each time and had coffee. I don’t drink alcohol, so the local tipples were not a problem or temptation to me. But it is hard for your senses to be overwhelmed by such delights and not get pulled in a little. By day 5 I had relented. I couldn’t contain it anymore; I wanted a bite, just a bite of that beautiful, light, freshly baked ‘pan’. So I took myself a piece and chomped down without a second thought.
Well, it was damn good. So I had to have another. And another. And maybe another small slice, but I’ll add some of the local, creamy butter on top this time. And so on. This is the concern. Once I start on these types of foods, there’s no satiety, I can keep going and keep eating, basically gorging myself.
At breakfast the next day, not yet really feeling the effects from my bread binge the evening before, I decided I would have a couple of slices of the local cheese with my meat and hard boiled eggs. No biggy. A slither of chunky dairy won’t matter. I’m trying local delicacies, I’m enjoying good times with my family and enjoying our temporary Mallorcan life, it wouldn’t hurt. A slither turns into chunks and I’m literally wolfing down great big handfuls of cheese, seemingly unaware that I hadn’t finished the previous bite before shovelling in more. Pate? Yes please, I’ll just slather it onto this bread with some more butter.
After lunch then, because I won’t choose the egg custard tart or the almond cake with cream, I will choose a ‘heavy on the milk’ café con leche instead. I’ll just have a coffee, I tell myself, but I’ll indulge in the milk for once. Then the next day, the same again. Well, I did get a taste for it, so I’ll have another at dinner. Maybe, when everyone has a pastry out in the town square, I’ll choose another milky coffee. Perhaps some more of that bread though with my dinner and I’ve had some cheese and milk now, might as well try those enormous ice creams…..
Etc, etc. You get the picture.
So from what started off being an enjoyable, sharing, family meal, with just a taste of the gorgeous bread, had turned into a full on spiral into all the food stuffs that not only give me a killer headache, aggravate my insides, churning me up and make me feel uncomfortable and grot, but also, make me feel emotionally and mentally drained too. I could actually feel the dairy laying heavy in my tummy and I had an almost permanent headache, right at the back of my eyes, thumping away. I hadn’t had one of those for an awfully long time. I knew that was the impact of over indulgence on things that no longer made me feel good. But it’s the emotional changes that are the hardest to get over.
I wish I could explain this side of things, as I’m well aware it sounds as though I’m making it up. But eating certain food stuffs now will trigger a large mental change in me. I don’t know whether this is the real deal or psychosomatic, but I know that to me, it is very apparent and very tangible.
To briefly explain, whilst telling myself ‘one more won’t hurt, I’ve opened the flood gates now, I might as well’ to every piece of food I can think of, I start to lose, in turn, not only my willpower, but also my motivation, my positivity, my energy, my spark. It all goes and it does so very quickly. At the start of my holiday, I had been running regularly, choosing to walk everywhere, cycle, swim, get out and about and enjoy living.
But the result of a couple of days of eating processed (not overly so, but still processed) foods, as well as dairy and grains, had very quickly turned my mood around. It had switched off my get up and go. And I didn’t like it. If I don’t eat well I can’t perform as well. It really is as simple as that. Once again, even in the heat of the Mallorcan sun on a dreamy holiday away, I am reminded of the fact that eating how I previously did, just does not suit me.
The day of travel back to the UK, I told myself would be the day of correcting myself back onto my much favoured paleo path. I ate fruit before the flight, I drank plenty of water to filter out the nasties and keep my headache dulled down and I went back to plenty of salads, meat and vegetables with relative ease. I was lucky this time. The transition back on track wasn’t as bad as it could have been and certainly not as bad as my original changes. Once back on my home turf I was back in my comfort zone and cooking up a storm, making huge batches of tasty, spicy chili and fresh guacamole again. Perfect!
I want to be the bright, sparky Zoe. The one whose family, friends and loved ones actually want to be around. Someone who remains positive, not half a glass empty. I want to have the emotional and physical strength to attack anything I’m faced with, with verve and vigour. I want to be as healthy and fit as I can be. I’m not saying that my choice of food necessarily changes all of these things, but it is certainly a high playing factor. My willpower and resolve will always be tested I’m sure. I’m happy to let loose and enjoy good food, good company and good times, of course! Who isn’t! But in moderation. I’ve learnt that it doesn’t have to be an open door to eat my way through anything and everything I can find.
Down in the dumps Zoe is not a nice person to be. So I’m happy being the daft, grinning, paleo eatin’, exercise lovin’ one for now. If that’s ok?
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