Last month I went to the doc. Nothing wrong, just the annual physical I get “free” with my health insurance. I had skipped the exam the year prior and I figured I might as well get the benefit of documenting my robust health!

A few days after the physical itself, the lab tech called to tell me the results. Cholesterol, triglycerides, all the usual markers were good, some even great. But then came the kicker: “we’re concerned about your blood sugar,” the tech said. “Your fasting blood glucose came back at 133.”

Silence.

I was stunned. I know that by the usual markers, 70-100 is normal, over 100 is pre-diabetic and anything over 125 is considered diabetic. I am a health coach. I subscribe to a mostly raw vegan diet. My weight is normal. How the hell could my blood sugar be high enough to place me in the diabetic zone?

“We’d like you to come in for an A1c test,” the tech continued. An A1c? I could barely focus. “OK,” I said, let’s get it scheduled.”

Because of holidays and office hours, it would be a couple of weeks before I was able get in to have blood drawn. An A1c is a simple test and the results are available immediately, but anyone who has ever gotten “irregular” lab results back knows that a couple of weeks is a painfully long time to wait. In your head you run all manner of scenarios, from worst-case to imagining the doc telling you “there was a mix-up at the lab and we gave you someone else’s results.”

Finally, the requisite time had passed and I arrived for my 2nd blood draw. It felt like an eternity while I waited for Dr. Kim to come back into the room. When she did, she was expressionless. “Well?” I asked. “You’re at 5.1,” she said.

5.1. “That’s normal,” I said. “Correct,” she replied.

Normal. What a beautiful word.

I’ll never really know what happened with the test done during my routine physical, and at this point I don’t really much care. But living with the uncertainty of those few in-between weeks had a profound effect on me. I already was—by most standards—health-conscious. But after getting the initial test results, I really scrutinized my daily practices. Did I really need to sweeten my tea with honey? Am I honest with myself about how much wine I drink in a week? Are my gym workouts still effective? Good questions to ask, but had I not had the “scare,” I might not have taken such a complete self-inventory. And my inventory did reveal to me a few areas where I decided I could make some improvements. Nothing huge, really, but a few adjustments that I think will payoff if I can be consistent over time.

I couldn’t figure it out. When I got up this morning, why did my feet, lower back and even my neck hurt? I hadn’t changed my workout, had not done any heavy lifting, and I slept in the same position I always did. So, why did I have this dull ache everywhere, even before I got out of bed?

Then I remembered. I wore a suit yesterday. All day. For more than 12 hours.

It’s not that the wearing of a suit itself creates pain. No, it’s the accessories: most notably, the footwear.

For 25 years my career—before I started Fork in the Road—was in the graphic design and advertising business. I was co-owner of a small but successful firm. We had clients scattered about the country, so I traveled a lot and I had become accustomed to dressing a particular way. Fast-forward to 2009 after I had left that profession to become a health and nutrition coach: entirely different work, totally different hours and way different attire, including the shoes.

You see I started my career in the early 1980s. Back then everyone in business “dressed for success,” and for women that meant skirts or pant suits and, invariably, high heels. I remember the early days in my first job: the first thing I would do when I got home at night was to kick off the damn shoes and those almost-as-excruciating control top pantyhose. (Why was I wearing control top anyway? I weighed 105 pounds! But I digress….). This went on for over three more decades. By the time we closed the advertising business, I had become so accustomed to heels that I could run through O’Hare or LaGuardia, even while schlepping heavy luggage. Having sore feet and a backache just became another of those things you endure without question.

But this isn’t a diatribe about women’s footwear or the value of orthopedics. I am writing this because what struck me—after I surmised the source of my recent foot and back soreness—was the whole notion of becoming used to living with pain. Not just pain: preventable and fixable pain.

This in turn led me to consider: since I had lived with self-induced physical discomfort previously, what in my current life—whether related to mind, body or spirit—might I be enduring unnecessarily? What am I blindly accepting as “that’s just the way it is” right now? Are there some emotional stilettos that I could easily trade for a cute pair of flats? Are there some bad habits I have that are giving me the equivalent of a spiritual bunion? Am I in any way shooting myself in the proverbial foot?

This topic may end up being something I spend more time exploring for myself in the New Year. Meanwhile, I invite you to take a walk in my shoes, so to speak. Look inward and ask yourself what’s keeping you from walking with a spring in your step?

A friend of mine recently told me that this was one of her favorite “messages” that I had written—it appeared in my “What The Fork” newsletter last year…right around this time.  I figured if she liked it (she’s a tough cookie), it might bear repeating.  Enjoy!  ~ Sheree

One of the biggest challenges in transitioning to any new way of eating is societal and peer pressure. Our culture is undeniably food-driven and we alternately use meals as a means to establish community, a way to celebrate or reward and as a demonstration of love. Conversely, consumption of food can also be used as a stress release, a way to commiserate with others or even a peace offering. Food is laden with meaning and—if we let it—cuisine taken in the company of others takes on significance far beyond it’s mere calorie content. Imagine inviting someone to your home for an evening and not offering them something to eat or drink: you’d feel inhospitable and they might even be insulted!

Once you gain a level of confidence you’ll find it’s not necessary to avoid family gatherings, poolside barbeques and parties in order to stay true to a healthy food lifestyle. The first step in being able to handle the pressures of “eating out” is to reconcile what the event really is about. Unless you are attending a gourmet food writers’ conference, the reality is that the occasion is about something other than the food. Yet many times food and drink can take center stage and our focus shifts away from the real reason for the gathering —usually, that would be spending time with friends and family or celebrating a milestone. The reasons for this are many times emotional, and often based on tradition. The challenge becomes how to replace patterns or at least substitute behaviors in a way that serves you better in the long term.
Here are some tried and true tips to get you through your next social occasion:

1. Eat before you go.
It’s a lot harder to resist a slice of cheesecake when you’re famished than when you’re genuinely satisfied from the green smoothie you just had an hour before. If you can honestly say, “Oh, it looks wonderful, but I am full right now,” you’ll be that much closer to being able to stay the course. Try and keep your focus and attention on the occasion and the camaraderie of other people.

2. Practice the art of dodging.
From cocktail parties to sit-down dinners, I have learned how to identify the most opportune time for me to visit the ladies room, go greet a colleague across the room or simply “take a powder”: and usually it is when there is something being served that I do not choose to eat. Although most of the time now I am comfortable enough to simply say “no thanks” without a grand explanation, in the early days of transitioning to the raw food lifestyle that I currently practice, I needed to feel like I didn’t stand out too much. I learned that sometimes the easiest way of handling a potentially awkward situation is to simply avoid it. Just knowing when to make an exit can be a valuable skill.

3. Have an alibi.
Sometimes having a ready-made reason why you’re only eating a salad or not having dessert makes it easier to avoid the embarrassment of having attention directed at your plate. While I am certainly not an advocate of lying, I will confess that some stretching of the truth got me through the uncomfortable early days. A few examples of things that helped me over the hump were:

• “My stomach has been acting up: I’d better not.” (This one is actually true: my stomach was revolting from years of crappy food and I wasn’t going to give it any more!)
• “My doctor has me on a special diet.” (People back away when you trot this one out: after all, your doctor knows everything, right?)
• “It looks great but I am stuffed from a late lunch…maybe in a little while.” (In a “little while” everyone else will have eaten it anyway and you’ll be off the hook!)

The idea is to have a ready-to-go reason why you’re doing what you’re doing —assuming you are in a situation you feel that you can’t (or don’t) choose to be in the open about your food choices. Yes, the pressure can be tough at times. But if you keep in mind that for most social engagements it really isn’t about the food, you’ll be in a better place.