Bodybuilding and Breakfast Tacos

At 7:37 am today, I looked around the house to determine what was missing, and I realized it was the noise of stress. Dad had whisked Luke away to school a couple of minutes earlier (so he wouldn't be late like he would've if he rode his bike that close to tardy-bell time.) Nate had already headed out for the bus stop. Suddenly I found myself alone in the house without even the heady, frantic noise of my mental to-do list rattling about between my ears.

The peace was so pervasive I could touch it. I smiled, closed my eyes and breathed it in, and moved on to breakfast.

I'm here alone, cooking only for myself. What do I want? Breakfast tacos!

But not my typically healthy tacos (or I should say taco, since I usually only eat one) of egg whites and lite cheese on wholegrain low-fat tortilla. Wes came home from his grocery-shopping excursion with traditional tortillas so fresh they were still warm. So I made tacos (yes, two) with those yummy-soft morsels, cheese (still lite), bacon (well, turkey bacon), and eggs (okay, still egg whites).

And ate them (both) surrounded by the peace of my home. I didn't feel (too) guilty until the last bite was gone. The experience was too genuinely gratifying to be accompanied by guilt. But it did make me think a bit.

*Confession time* I have gained about five pounds since last May, three of which have happened since the beginning of this semester. I began the semester with what I thought was a workable workout plan. Somewhere in the last couple of weeks, however, I confiscated the two hours I had set aside for weight training and applied them to studying. I guess I robbed Arnold to pay Einstein. And somewhere along the way I decided it was too mentally taxing to concern myself too much with the overall nutritive value of my meals. I still have some habits I don't normally dispose of; I choose wheat over white (well...usually) lean over fatty. But veggies? Fruit? Counting carbs and fat grams? Limiting caffeine and amping up water intake? HA! I'm seriously lacking in those areas.

A little background here, in case you've wandered in from off the street.

I ended each pregnancy with the scale needle pointing to a number larger than 215 pounds; I am 5'4". Needless to say, that's too heavy. I finally overcame a lifelong weight problem with fitness and nutrition, a journey of enlightenment that started when Luke was a toddler and has branched off into my premed studies. Before I started university, I became a certified personal trainer and a group fitness instructor. The fitness industry was trending toward degreed and licensed fitness professionals, so I began my undergraduate degree pursuit studying exercise and sports science. I always had the doctor goal in mind, but realized that the exercise science route would probably take twice the time as biology would, and the mirror reminds me I'm not growing younger.

But even before my fitness fetish led me to teach, it led me to compete. Bodybuilding. Actually, figure competition - more like bodybuilding 'lite'. It's the beauty pageant's long-lost cousin, emerging on the bodybuilder's stage. A little less muscle, a lot more glam.

This is me at my last competition.

Compared to the *now* photo on my profile, it's obvious that I'm not quite in the same physical condition. Which is fine, really, considering what it took to get there. My alarm clock would wake me up at 4:30 am every morning to workout before work. I consumed so little calories that I could barely think, and they were all precisely partitioned into percentages coming from lean protein, complex carbohydrates (not much of these,) and healthy fats (even less of these.) It took so much attention and mental energy on top of the physical output that it became an obsession. PLUS, I leaned out so much that I entered amenorrhea (my periods stopped) and it took my cycle six-plus months to recalibrate. Talk about horrendous hormones...

Although I've determined that it's not worth it to me to pursue bodybuilding, I still would *love* to hold on to the healthy lifestyle changes I made that brought me down the scale and to my current educational pursuit. I hear, however, many premed students lamenting the paradox of neglecting their own health in order to become a health care provider. I have personal experience in my background that should keep me from that paradox; it should firmly ensconce me far away from that paradox.

My best friend has regularly expressed surprise when I divulge that my workouts are no longer regular. She always assumed that once I won the battle over laziness I'd never relapse. Truthfully, I assumed that, too.

But it's not really laziness. There are, after all, so many hours in a day. If I have to re-allocate minutes from sweating to studying in order to survive in school, I have to hope that I can pick up fitness habits again before I develop adult-onset diabetes, or even severe "Dunlap syndrome."

Now, if I can convince my husband to not buy homemade flour tortillas...