I’ve lived with the metabolic damage caused by my thyroid disorder, for years.
I’m aware that the term metabolic damage has been coopted by the weight-lifting and exercise community to better define, starvation syndrome. As it relates to me, I’m in a constant state of metabolic resistance (that third stage experienced by weight loss chicks when their diet and exercise stop working). Typically, one deals with having a dormant to barely operable metabolism with a portioned diet (portions are not barring certain foods from your diet) and a daily yet light exercise plan.
I learned firsthand how damaging a weight-loss diet combined with extreme exercise could be after basic training in the military. I lost weight, but I was constantly run down and sick. My thyroid and metabolism barely survived those two years. My endocrinologist told me never to go full-scale diet and high work out. It fucks the metabolism up, big time (I’m paraphrasing, yo); my health is already hindered by fructose malabsorption.
I’m a writer and sedentary most of the day. My life is defined by poor eating habits. I eat green beans only if they’re from a can, and I dabble in corn and carrots. I can tolerate salad in the form of lettuce, dressing, and croutons; do not put a tomato or cucumber, or whatever shredded vegetables that taste like dried paper bits, near my lettuce. Fruit needs to have sugar on it or come in a can with syrup. I’m Polish, so potatoes are a way of life. I’m addicted to the occasional donut (okay, more than occasional), and my snacking involves salty things I will not put into bowls before retiring to my office. Nope, I’m a hand-in-box kind of lady, and those boxes die fast if they’re within grabbing distance.
At the doctors on Friday, I learned that my metabolism has officially reached the point of no return. I cannot persist in eating and living the way I do if I wish to attain some level of anatomical sustainability in my old age. What hurts is that even if I paid for a host of fat removal procedures, none of it would alter the condition of my metabolism; I’d still be sick, rundown, and unhealthy–but I’d look fabulous. What’s that worth? I’m 5’3″ and now clock back in at 214 pounds. I had gained almost 300 lbs, years ago when my thyroid shut down. I never got back to the weight I was after having the kiddos (155-65); the metabolic damage had reared its ugly head after many hypervigilant attempts at weight loss. Frustrated, I had abandoned all attempts to change and went back to a lifestyle that enabled my creative flow, and bolstered my emotional wellbeing.
Long story longer, I am not allowed to engage in that lifestyle anymore.