SIT DOWN AND GET cozy…this might take a bit.
I had an uncle named Mark. Uncle Mark. He was my mom’s brother. He lived in Florida. He was great. He always called me by my full name (Maaaaadison; he’d always drag out the “a”), would play board games with me, we would goof off and make fun of each other, he had a really cool army skull tattoo with a cigarette hanging out its mouth, we’d wrestle his boxer dog, Greta, he owned bees and showed me how to harvest honey, I’d sit on his back porch and play with their brand new (and horribly mean) kitten. And when I say “I would,” I mean “I would do these things when I was in town.” Because I lived in Texas, and didn’t get to see him much. But when I did, it was golden.
August 13, 2006, I’m 12 years old. I was sitting at a friend’s house watching a movie when my friend’s mom walked into the living room and told me the phone was for me, and that it was important. My first thought was that I was in trouble. I walked into the foyer and put my ear up to the phone. It was my godmother, Kimmie; I heard her say through muffled sobs that my uncle died, and that my friend’s mother would be taking me home. My mind was spinning and I fell forward and slid down the glass of the front door as I melted into tears. My uncle? The one I love so much; my mom’s brother? The guy who was an incredible cyclist and seemed to adore me?
Yes. That’s the one.
My family and I left Texas that day and drove to Florida, and so began the rest of our lives without Uncle Mark. That was a horrible, horrible time.
I can’t remember how long we stayed in Florida, but I know that we stayed after the funeral and discussed in great length and detail the sequence of events and the cause of death:
Uncle Mark was camping in the Pisgah National Forest with my Aunt Leigh and little cousin Jesse in North Carolina. He was riding his bike up the Blue Ridge Parkway and pulled off into a scenic overlook of Looking Glass Falls (side note: Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass are my two favorite books). There, straddling his bike, he collapsed as a result of a heart attack. A doctor that was present as a tourist attempted to resuscitate him, but to no avail. My uncle was dead at 39.
A week after his autopsy, his death was diagnosed: Occlusion of the Left Anterior Descending Artery. Also known as the Widowmaker heart attack. The heart attack was caused by a blood clot in the LAD artery. The artery was blocked by the clot and caused sudden death. No one knows the reason of the blood clot; there is only speculation. It is so puzzling because my uncle was in perfect health; he was in peak physical condition. No warning, no signs.
This was devastating.
It was no mystery that heart attacks ran in our family; on both sides, as a bonus. Uncle Mark’s death was a turning point in everyone’s lives, including my mom’s sister, Aunt Jill and her family, and my family. At once, we changed our eating habits and diets. We got on whole grain everything, we bought butter instead of margarine, we nixed sodas and cut back on sugar. We weren’t going to have another death and we were going to start treating our bodies like The Lord’s temple that He gave us.
(Don’t worry, I’m leading up to something)
At 13 years old my best friend and I were heavily involved in Irish dancing. Definitely some of my favorite memories. I remember one particular time when we were practicing correct form (shoulders back, back straight, stand tall, feet turned out and pointed, stand on your toes, arms straight and unmoving at your sides), my awesome dance instructor, Laura, got onto me for sticking my butt out. I protested and said that I wasn’t, and that my back was just extremely arched. Upon further examination, she commented that I was right and apologized. Right around that time, I began contracting extreme back pain in my lower back, and then Laura moved to Holland (sadness). And so ended dance. (I started back up again at 15 with a great dance instructor, Richard Tew, and during that 2-year period my back pain was alleviated somewhat)
So my parents and I concluded it must have been dance causing this pain.
After several months of relentless back pain, I was taken to a pediatrist, orthopedic, got a full-body bone scan and finally was taken to a physical therapist. Somehow, no one seemed to be able to figure out what was wrong with my back. My therapist (after examining my sleeping position routine), confidently concluded that I simply had bad posture (which wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibilities; my posture wasn’t that great). After assigning me some 10 minute back exercises, I was sent on my way. For a while I practiced these exercises, would do pilates once a week with my best friend’s mom, Miss. Allie, and a lot of my back pain was relieved, and so I would stop my exercises. This was a mistake, because I got accustomed to short term relief and then my back pain would return with a vengeance.
Through this process, I eventually began to simply live with being in mortal (I’m not exaggerating; mortal) pain every day. My therapist told me I would need to sleep with a small blanket or pillow under my lower back for the rest of my life because of my extreme arch. This of course, made me quite angry. But he was right; that little blanket has been a lifesaver every night and was one of the only things that helped alleviate any pain.
For seven years I lived with extreme, mysterious back pain twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. I was used to popping six ibuprofen every six hours every day. Eventually my body figured out what was going on and became immune to the painkiller.
At the end of 2013, beginning of 2014 (somewhere in there), I was scrolling through Pinterest on a normal day after work and a pin popped up on lower back pain. “DO YOU HAVE EXTREME PAIN IN YOUR LOWER BACK? WELL YOU MIGHT HAVE THIS” was something along the lines of the title. I was like “Yeah I do. Tell me, all-knowing Pinterest.” I followed the link to an article describing something called “Lordosis/Hyperlordosis.” As I read, my eyes grew wide; I had every symptom of hyperlordosis.
“Lumbar hyperlordosis is a condition that occurs when the lumbar region (lower back) experiences stress or extra weight and is arched to point of muscle pain or spasms. Lumbar lordosis is a common postural position where the natural curve of the lumbar region of the back is slightly or dramatically accentuated.”
While laying flat on the floor, I can stack both hands on top of each other under my arch and still not touch my back, or place one of my fists under my arch and not touch my back. The extreme bend is very painful. When I’m standing up straight, I lean forward; these are all symptoms of lordosis/hyperlordosis. I brought it up to my mom and she thought it was worth getting a doctor to look at it.
I went to a family clinic in Spring by myself and told the doctor I had diagnosed myself with hyperlordosis. She laughed, “Oh, you’ve diagnosed yourself?” Of course, I was instantly infuriated; I’m not an idiot. It doesn’t take a highly-educated doctor with hundreds of years of experience and degrees to tell me about my back problems; and guess what? It doesn’t and didn’t; my doctors sucked. Sorry.
“Yes, I did diagnose myself. I know I’m right, I’m just here for you to professionally back me up.” Yeah. I was a little snotty. But I had seven years of excruciating pain on me and I was fed the heck up. She asked if I was pregnant or overweight (brat), to which I responded “No.” She then informed me I did not have hyperlordosis, because that’s what fat, pregnant people have. She told me hyperlordosis people have extreme arches and stand at a tilt when standing up straight. I calmly (through gritted teeth) proceeded to explain that that’s exactly my dilemma. She reluctantly examined how I stood and my hands under my back as I lied down. Her eyes widened and she said, “Oh wow, yeah you have hyperlordosis. Sorry for doubting you.” She then checked me for scoliosis, which I also have.
I came home with a diagnosis for my mom and she was astounded. We wanted a second opinion so we visited my orthopedist (and at some point also got my blood taken) whom I had seen when I was 13. He didn’t remember me but examined me anyways. He confirmed the scoliosis but refused to give me my diagnosis of hyperlordosis. His reasoning for my years of back issues were, “Well, everybody’s different.” Bullshit. (Excuse my language, but it’s a touchy subject)
His prescription was once again, a physical therapist. I was infuriated. Right before leaving, I received my “prescription” and the results of my blood test. I was extremely deficient in Vitamin D; my 25-hydroxy vitamin D test was 19. A normal/optimal result is 60-80. This sent my mom and I into a spiral of extensive research on vitamin D deficiencies. Some health risks of an extreme vitamin D deficiency are Rickets (soft bones; that’s not diagnosed but I have a suspicion that I may have it), asthma (I have exhaustion-induced asthma), cardiovascular disease and cancer.
I reluctantly and angrily told my female Jamaican physical therapist that day that I didn’t want to be there, and that my last physical therapist was lame and that my orthopedist a few levels above was just plain dumb. Probably because he was a 110 years old. Long story short, my therapist (unfortunately I can’t remember her name) was amazing.
I only went three or four times, but she was patient and gave me vital information like that my right leg was longer than my left, my left shoulder was higher than my right and that the extremity of my hip swing was contributing to my back pain. She also believed me when I told her about my hyperlordosis. Unfortunately, she wasn’t available one morning and I got her assistant to work with me and he pushed me beyond my physical capacity and I left with extreme back pain and never went back. Sorry my sweet, Jamaican princess. It wasn’t you, it was your country music-loving cowboy assistant. (And if you know me, you know I hate country music. Why would you play country music while I’m doing physical therapy. Why?)
I was given some great exercises by my therapist, but unfortunately, after living so long with back pain, I shied away from exercising and fell back into my normal routine of pain. There is no cure for hyperlordosis, but I knew that I needed to at least have a consistent schedule of exercising. The only reason I can come up with for not exercising when I KNOW it will make me feel better, is being accustomed to constant pain. It sounds backwards, but it’s true. It put some tension on my relationship with my parents and soon after, my relationship with Josh. They all couldn’t understand why I wouldn’t exercise when I knew it was good for me. I couldn’t understand, either.
Okay, so I’m gonna jump back (I promise, there’s an entire point to my sad life of medical issues that I’m getting to; thanks for tracking with me if you’ve gotten this far)
In April of 2012, my mom began to experience heart palpitations and high inflammation in her body. She went to have it checked out and was diagnosed with heart disease and there became an incredible urgency to bring the inflammation down. Her doctor wanted to put her on medication, but if you know my mom and our family, you know we don’t do meds. We just don’t. We’re strong believers in homeopathic remedies. Call us hippie witchdoctors, I don’t care, because we don’t need your approval; but we know what a change of diet and actual natural medications can do for the body, because our body was created a certain way. (Not to say all medications are bad; it’s just our last resort for some things)
A lot of research by my mom and six months later, her heart problems were gone due to a completely grain and sugar-free diet; something even more drastic and extensive from when we first changed our diet in 2006. She went back to her doctor and he was thoroughly astounded and impressed. He told her to continue with her diet because it was obviously working. My mama ain’t about tah quit.
I have no doubt that I will follow in the path of my family history and develop heart problems if I’m not careful. I also know that my vitamin D levels and back issues will continue to grow worse if I’m not careful. So what does the Bible say about eating healthy and having a healthy lifestyle? Does God care about what I eat?
1st Corinthians 6:19-20 says, “What? Do you not know that your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? For you are bought with a price: therefore glorify God in your body, and in your spirit, which are God’s.”
1st Corinthians 10:31: “Whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do it all to the glory of God.”
1st Corinthians 9:27: “But I disciple my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.”
Romans 12:1: “I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.”
1st Corinthians 6:12: “‘All things are lawful for me,’ but not all things are helpful. ‘All things are lawful for me,’ but I will not be enslaved by anything.” (To me, this one keeps me in check on how I can obsess over my diet. Yeah, my diet can be good for me, but it’s not helpful if I’m enslaved to it. I should give everything up to The Lord and worship only Him, not my diet.)
So, it appears that 1st Corinthians has a lot to say about our bodies being extremely important to The Lord. And I can definitely align myself with that. I started eating grain-free several weeks after my mom started eating grain-free, and I have been grain-free/sugar-free for almost 4 years. No, I’m not as strict as my mom; I will fudge (lol get it?) every now and then and I have definitely had to compromise on the Race, simply because grain-free options aren’t always available. I eat a lot a lot of rice here in Central America, and that’s not about to slow down when we head to South Africa and most importantly: Asia, Rice Central. I remember when eating rice with sushi was me “cheating;” now, unfortunately for me, it’s a part of my everyday eating, and I can for sure tell you I feel the bloated-ness.
I didn’t realize that my diet was not only for my physical health, a way to reduce the possibility of heart disease in the future, to reduce acne, menstrual pain, weakness and to promote energy; it is also for my spiritual health. I hadn’t come to this conclusion until mid-week World Race training camp October 2015, when I had an emotional breakdown with a squadmate. In addition to my strict diet, I also eat as much as three men, and Training Camp portions hardly filled the average girl-portions intake. I have an incredibly high-functioning metabolism, and because I am accustomed to only eating protein and vegetables every meal, the small amount of pastries/cereal/oatmeal we would receive at breakfast in the morning at slowly chiseled away at my emotional and spiritual stability.
Some days I chose to just be hungry in the mornings. And some days I chose to eat the grain and sugar-filled breakfast meant to give me “energy.” Every time I scooped rice or a grain-filled breakfast bar into my mouth, I felt my spiritual and emotional temple slowly falling apart. I was destroying my body, my sacrifice for The Lord, one bite at a time. And eventually, by day 7, it all came up to the surface in an overflowing display of anger and tears. My squadmate, Anna G. (annagentry.theworldrace.org), prayed with me and told me that she saw my diet and eating habits as a spiritual and physical sacrifice to The Lord, and that every time I eat something I feel I shouldn’t, it’s wrong for me and I’m ruining my sacrifice. I knew that she was spot on. I want to live for Christ, and part of doing that is making sure my body will survive a good long while and be in peak condition to serve God.
While I was in Haiti month 2, I let my diet really control my emotions. I was bitter, mad and angry that our ministry hosts didn’t seem to care about feeding my fellow gluten-free mates and me, even though we were paying for food just like the rest of A Squad! Well, that was my fault, because I didn’t make it clear in the beginning that I truly needed to eat something other than pizza or oatmeal. And when we brought it to their attention they were more than happy to inform us that we could go into the fridge and kitchen any time we want and eat whatever we like.
In Haiti, I gave up my obsession over my diet and ceased letting it rule my emotions.
No, I did not give up my diet or eating habits; only its control over me. I still eat just as strictly, and I knew coming on the Race it would be hard.
In addition, I will also be starting the Kayla Itsines Workout with my fellow teammate, Kerri, in order to reduce my asthma, support exertion longevity and alleviate my back pain and strengthen my back muscles.
This blog is for Racers with strict diets like me, but mostly it’s for everyone who has never understood why I eat the way I do, and for the people who have talked behind my back or criticized/made fun of me for my diet. That includes people pre-Race and present-Race. I think everyone should eat healthily. I think everyone should do their own research on what they’re eating, on what the heck kind of crap is in their food and how it’s affecting their body. You have no idea how much you can improve a lot of your health problems/day-to-day issues, including and not limited to acne, hair-growth, nutritional deficiencies, bloating, menstrual cramps, lack of energy, heart problems, ADD, hyper/hopothyroidism (my dad is hypothyroid and because of his grain-free diet he has majorly reduced the issues that come with his thyroid); the list goes on.
I am very passionate about physical, emotional and spiritual health, and I firmly believe that what you put in your body is what you’re going to get out of it. I love watching a transformation happen when people choose to put healthy foods in their bodies; it’s amazing. And by the way, eating fats are good for you. It’s when you combine it with sugar that it destroys your body. Your body was meant to pull energy from healthy fats, not sugar, which only gives you a temporary (and carb-filled) energy boost. Eating healthy fats such as cream cheese, milk, avocados, butter (real butter) and salmon does a lot for your energy, growth and mental awareness. But yeah you’re gonna need to eat low-fat if you’re stuffing your body with sugar.
You can’t have both.
Eating healthy is one way I worship, praise and glorify The Lord. I would love for everyone to eat healthy like my family, but I don’t judge, condemn or look down upon you if you don’t. I may cringe when I see you stuffing Cheetos, cookies and a snowy-white sandwich in your mouth, but I know that my health is something that I have chosen, and it’s completely fine with me if you’ve chosen otherwise. I still love and respect you; DON’T DOUBT THAT.
Something I want to grow in is working out my body, and my teammate Kerri (kerriklenkel.theworldrace.org) and squadmates Q (alyssaquini.theworldrace.org) and Tanner (tannerhudson.theworldrace.org) have been incredible influences and encouragers in pushing me to strengthen myself physically. They are people I look up to and respect who also treat their bodies as temples and living sacrifices to God. So I am mentioning working out to not only have accountability, but to proclaim a lifestyle change that will be extremely challenging for me, but worth it in the end.
Thanks for enduring this incredibly long blog post that had nothing to do with my ministry in Panama. I have grown weary at attempting to justify my diet to people and having to explain the exact reason of my eating habits. No, I will not have an immediate allergic reaction if I eat grains (and by the way the gluten is not the issue for me; it’s the grain that turns into sugar which turns into fat which poisons my body and clogs my arteries that’s the issue), but I will have horrible acne (sometimes more or less cystic), bloating, gas, exhaustion, increased menstrual cramps and increased risks of heart disease. Spiritually, I will feel like I’m in a way, breaking a covenant I’ve made with God.
And that’s why I eat grain and sugar-free.
Thanks for your support and your endurance! If I came off harsh in any way, I apologize. There have been a lot of feelings built up and they vomited onto this blog post. Don’t take it personally.
xoxo,
Maddie
p.s. I wanted to add in pictures of some amazing grain-free food, but my wifi won’t permit it. Sorry; I know you wanted to see them.
