The Broad Running Broad

I’m getting old, reader-friends.

Remember when one of your parents or an adult you knew would decline a serving of ice cream or some other sweet because it didn’t agree with them? Typically it was, “Thanks for offering, but I can’t eat that stuff anymore. My system just doesn’t do well with it.”

Kid Allison thought it was crap.

Adult Allison has turned into the adult with the cantankerous system.

The other day I didn’t know what to have for breakfast, so I grabbed the package of hamburger buns and a jar of peanut butter. I figured peanut butter bread (I don’t eat hamburger buns like a sandwich and don’t recommend doing so, in case anyone wondered) would be a simple but filling breakfast.

It was in fact simple but filling. Then about 15 minutes later I got hot, as though a fever had kicked in. I’ve started experiencing elevated body temperature after eating sweets such as candy, but bread was a first.

A quick Google search gave me one of two explanations for the sudden hotness – menopause or diabetes. I’m going to assume it’s not menopause at 29. However, diabetes does run in my family and my grandpa has it. My blood sugar has always been a little wonky – we found out right after I started having periods that my blood sugar doesn’t rise with me if I stand up after sitting too long or sleeping. But getting hot after eating is a recent development since turning 29, and it scares me. I’m not ready to need medication or have to prick my finger.

So for the time being, ice decided to cut way back on starchy foods and anything white – breads, pastas, etc.

Then there’s the dairy issue. Back in high school I started having poor reactions to milk only, which is more common than you’d think. Yogurt, butter, ice cream then were all fine and didn’t cause any problems.

Throughout my twenties the dairy intolerance got stronger. Quite frankly however, I’m an idiot and stubborn. Dairy is my comfort and happy food group – cheeses, ice cream, you name it I will happily eat it. I love my three cheese pizza, I love my chocolate, I eat shredded mozzarella cheese by the bag the same way some folks snarf down a bag of potato chips. Live by the pretzel sticks dipped in queso, die by the pretzel sticks dipped in queso.

Speaking of queso pretzel sticks, I gotta tell you about Dairy Queen.

For my non-American readers, there’s a fast food chain in the States called Dairy Queen. They sell the usual fast food – cheeseburgers, chicken, hot dogs, French fries – and are renowned for soft serve ice cream. These are knowns as Blizzards. You can order whichever one you like, and the workers mix in the add-ins of choice, which are usually candies or cookies. I can’t remember how many options there are, but I have yet to try a Blizzard I didn’t like.

There’s one in the town I work in. Right across the street from my workplace, so all day I can watch the people coming in and out and try to guess which one they got. For people with self-control a Dairy Queen across the street isn’t a big deal or any deal. For dairy fiends with crappy self-control, this is a curse disguised as a blessing.

I can’t tell you how many times since I started working there I’ve seen the red spoon on the sign, told myself I have a packed lunch in the fridge, and yet walked over there to get a mini Blizzard to eat with lunch at the office.

Which brings me to right now. The Dairy Queen treks, three K-cups of French vanilla or caramel cappuccinos (which are 70 calories a pop – way lower than I thought), fast food for dinner and high-sugar, high-dairy diet has jacked me completely up.

My nose is stuffy and sinuses feel congested, which is a side effect of dairy consumption. I broke out pretty badly, which hasn’t happened in a long time and is a result of androgen production … Also attributed to dairy. And my stomach has been bloated for the past week like a pregnant woman’s, which is uncomfortable and not cool by me.

There’s only one way to solve this problem: I have to go on a dairy break and reset myself.

In the past I’ve never been able to maintain an elimination diet, so I’m not really looking forward to this. But, the alternative of where I’m currently at sucks. So it’s time to suck it up, drink my water or roobois tea, resist the temptation of the big red spoon of Dairy Queen, and get my body back in working order.

I’ll keep you all posted on how this goes. Hopefully something funny will happen so I can blog about it. Just because I’m likely going to be cranky doesn’t mean you all can’t get some enjoyment out of it.

Yours in writing and running,

Allison