A Painful Diet Experiment

How My Diet Impacts Pain, Mood, and Well-being

Sometimes I need painful reminders of lessons previously learned. I can't fathom why I tend to think my results will change just because a few years have gone by.

For context, I started presenting with major back pain in my pre-teen years. I remember going to see my uncle, a physical therapist, before he died when I was 14 years old. He told me to change the position I slept in, with no results.

I had many instances when a slight movement would cause my lower back to spasm and lock up for days on end. The very act of shaking out a small door mat was enough to send me to a doctor. One kayaking adventure with the kids set me off bad enough I needed help from my wife to put my pants on.

My pain was always unusual too. Activity like stretching and exercise typically made it feel better, despite one doctor telling me I would injure myself worse. After dealing with the ever-present total body ache for years, I would lead conversations with doctors by saying, "If you prescribe me painkillers, I won't take them, and I will find another doctor."

Finally I was diagnosed with Ankylosing Spondylitis, an auto-immune inflammatory disorder. Unfortunately, the treatment for this "disease" nearly killed me, but that is a story better covered elsewhere. I unhealthily lost 40 pounds in three months and ended up hospitalized.

When I left the hospital, I hired a Functional Medicine Doctor. We used a holistic approach to heal me. The most important thing we did was change my diet to real food, avoiding highly inflammatory foods like refined sugars, fried food, dairy, and most grains.

For the first time my pain went away. Gone.

Eating only food that the sun shines on kept me pain-free for years. I only ate meat, fruit, and vegetables, and my body thanked me for it. I had many other benefits as well. Normally grouchy, my mood took a turn for the playful. I was less irritable and more focused.

There is one downside to not eating processed carbohydrates. It is hard to fuel high-intensity workouts on only whole food. At 6'1" and 225 pounds, it takes approximately 4,000 calories a day to fuel my workouts where I will squat above 300 pounds and deadlift above 400 pounds for reps. The volume of food required to get that many calories gets tiresome to chew. Because simple carbohydrates are the best way to blunt the stress response from high-intensity workouts, I also found my stress levels consistently increasing.

So I figured I would try an experiment. I reintroduced cereal to my diet as a way to easily consume large amounts of calories to fuel my workouts. It worked at first. My ability to do more reps with the same weights instantly increased. My muscles swelled up to bursting with the coveted pump. I hadn't felt a pump like that in years; even my wife thought it necessary to come feel the swelling.

By the end of week one, I noticed I was more irritable and I had a dull ache throughout my entire body. I had the idle thought that I may be coming down with something because the level of mucus coming from my nose increased as well. Constant low-level anxiety started to rear its ugly head again for the first time in years, and I felt the need to withdraw from social situations.

By week two, the mucus moved into my chest. My face started to break out with little bumps, and my irritability continued to get worse, bordering on the land of anger. Normally witty, my words started to become harder to recall and the jokes that are usually easy to access became dark-tinted barbs more designed to tear people down than make them laugh. Another unusual symptom is my craving for alcohol increased. Previously an addict, my need to numb myself using alcohol resurfaced after being absent for years.

The experiment culminated in that dull ache turning into debilitating back pain. I went down for a squat with a measly 115 pounds on my back, and it felt like a knife shot into my lower back. My form was perfect, yet something set my nervous system into lockdown mode. Moving caused spasms to shoot through my back so hard they took my breath away. Once again, I found myself unable to take my pants on and off.

I caught myself thinking, "You dumbass, you knew better. Why did you go off and do something stupid?" Another problem I have when inflammation is running rampant through my body is when the Grumpy Old Codger that lives in my head comes out, and he is not gentle on anyone, especially me.

So I write this as a reminder to myself that inflammation brought on by highly processed foods does not allow me to be the person I want to be, nor am I able to enjoy my life. Even though eating whole foods can be a figurative pain in the ass sometimes, the pain of not eating well is a literal pain in my ass.