Whole30 - Day 30 – All done.....sort of

All done.

January 31st marked the end of my 30 days on the Whole30, a month-long cleanse that sounds like no fun at all with no alcohol, sugar, dairy, grains or baked goods. We all walk our path alone, of course, but my sister

@jayna walked a similar one on the Whole30 in January, and my husband

@preparedwombat bravely gave up Guinness and all its spirit brothers and sisters in solidarity. So, while I walked my path alone, I could glimpse them through the foliage, swatting mosquitos, walking along their paths too.

@preparedwombat hasn't posted about his experience of heroic beerlessness (yet), but you can read about

@jayna's experience during a very intense month of posting and falling ever more deeply under Steemit's mesmerizing spell here.

A quirky business

My experience on the Whole30 was more revelatory than fun, and the list of benefits I experienced is profound and quirky.

My vote for most head whipping and double-take making: My back no longer kinks up in the night causing me to curve over in the morning like a broken slinky. I thought I was in for that shit for life.

My vote for oddest: My ankles and wrists and arms no longer ache when I wake up in the morning. (Arms? Really? I know. I've never heard of anyone's biceps aching because of their diet. That isn't even a joint. It’s a muscle. I looked it up.)

My vote for most life altering: I now sleep through the night. In there-are-2-kinds-of-people terms, I have moved solidly and shockingly across the dichotomy line from person with a sleep disorder to person who sleeps through the night. Because. Of. What. I. Eat. Holy Brussels Sprouts Batman!

So, with all these benefits showering down like pink rose petals and golden glitter upon my grateful head, you have to ask, why would I choose on the very last day to sample, not once but twice, from the list of forbidden fruits?

You got me. I've been noodling over that one.

What I had, if you must know, is a bagel with cream cheese, representing grains and dairy, and later in the day a bowl of ice cream, representing dairy and sugar. Last night I was rewarded with an allergic reaction causing a St Vitus dance of itching that required Benadryl. I probably deserved a spanking, but at my age that isn't even fun anymore. The Benadryl made me sleepy, so I don't know what would have happened without it. But given how rotten my back and other body parts felt in the morning, I reckon I wouldn't have slept without the Benadryl.

My ride

When I ate that stuff yesterday, I suppose I was thinking something like, "Now that I've given my body a little rest from these naughty foods, I can probably have some now with impunity." Not so much. Maybe years of inflammation-causing foods have caught up with me, or maybe that was just way too much of a bad thing to have after 30 days of almost none. Whatever the case, last night's itching and this morning's aching both served to confirm for me that these foods are just not for me, in a way that the 30 days without them did not. HEY! Listen the hell up! My body is shouting its disapproval and it is up to me to pay attention and take care. This body is my ride while I'm here on planet Earth. I've definitely got skin in the game.

Bottom line

My bottom line, these foods and their prevalence are always going to be a challenge—what is easier to get in the US than a sandwich with a side of sugar? But steering clear of them is worth it. I like feeling good and getting rest. I like not being a broken slinky. So, like it or not, yesterday wasn't an end but a beginning for me.