with Jessica Timmons

Don’t the words “elimination diet” sound severe and off-putting and extreme? The first time I heard the concept, I thought it sounded like an exercise in frustration and deprivation and futility, frankly, because isn’t it human nature to intensely crave whatever you’ve decided you can’t have? But before you dismiss the notion as impossible, consider this. If you’ve spent your whole life eating certain food groups, how can you have any idea how your body responds to them? Those reactions – physical and emotional – are as normal to you as any other lifelong habit, meaning there’s no way for you to effectively gauge them – good or bad – at all. Enter the elimination diet. Dum dum DUM.

I’ve been an active person for years. I played team sports when I was younger and I started lifting weights when I was about 15. When I worked an office job as a copywriter, I sat on a Pilates ball at my desk, always took the stairs instead of the elevator, walked around the block to brainstorm and went to kickboxing classes five or six days a week – and never fewer than four. For the last ten years (and through three pregnancies), I’ve lifted weights, taken or taught kickboxing classes, completed a few rounds of programs like P90X and Insanity, tried (and regularly quit) running programs, dabbled in yoga and gone hardcore with Crossfit. I ate moderately well – regular meals, decent protein sources, whole grains, greens. For all of that, a lean physique always seemed unattainable to me. Infuriating, you know what I mean? And disheartening. Last August, I decided, on a whim, to give up grains for two weeks. No wheat, no oats, no rice, no flours, no corn, and no grain-based syrups, which essentially means nothing processed. Within 72 hours, everything – and I mean everything – changed.

I didn’t tell anyone I was cutting out grains because I knew my odds of falling off the wagon within 12 hours were pretty damn high. I made my kids breakfast the first morning and ate my egg with no accompanying buttered toast for dipping, but I was still in that honeymoon phase – all excitement and positivity – so it was no problem. I skipped my usual crackers in favor of raw veggies with my hummus later on, had tuna wrapped in lettuce leaves for lunch, apple slices with almond butter in the afternoon and my regular protein source and salad for dinner, with no side of crusty French bread. All good. Day two was similar, and I felt fine. Not hungry, not stuffed, just a mild satisfaction – the kind of feeling you have when someone asks if you’re hungry and you reply, “I could eat.” You could eat, but not because you’re particularly hungry. At the end of day three, I was floored by a head-to-toe euphoria – energized and light and freaking fantastic. I felt AMAZING, and I said it over and over. “I feel AMAZING!” I said to my husband. “Let’s go DO something!” It was nine p.m. on a Thursday night, and our three kids were in bed – a time I’m normally collapsing on the couch in exhaustion and trying to muster some energy for writing. I felt, no lie, like I was on some kind of insane upper.

This no-grain high lasted about three more days, and then feeling incredible became my new normal. I had a noticeable uptick in energy and my general mood was improved. I had fewer headaches. I lost about five to six pounds, and I was retaining less fluid. That lovely three-months-along belly bloat that was common for me in the evenings (thanks, wheat!) was gone. Halle-freakin-lujah! It was like I had finally figured out the missing piece to my personal fitness/health puzzle with all kinds of wonderful little extras thrown in – all of which made me look at grains with more than a little suspicion.

I was absolutely grain-free until December, when I made a conscious decision to eat my mother-in-law’s sinful rum cake. It was good, but not as good as I had imagined. And the next day, my gut was tied up in cramping knots. My body was telling me straight – don’t eat this crap! I don’t suffer from celiac disease and I’m not gluten intolerant, but I absolutely believe I am gluten sensitive – and I bet most people are in the same boat. But if you’ve never gone without, how would you know? For far too many people, feeling like crap – low energy or energy spikes and crashes, headaches, general fatigue, slow recovery after exertion, lethargy, crankiness, bloating, etc. – is normal. And that’s such a shame.

Cutting out grains may seem extreme to some. It’s the staple of the Midwest and comprises the vast majority of many people’s diet. It’s the base of the USDA’s food pyramid! But I think it’s junk, and my suspicions about my personal reactions to it were confirmed when I just eliminated it. It wasn’t nearly as hard as I feared, and I’ll be one year grain-free in two months. And if that makes me extreme, well, I’ll take it.