logic I construct behind them is faulty but, at the same time, also makes sense.
As I finished wiping my streaky face and packed away my notebook, I looked at him with a cheeky half smile and said, “Well, isn’t this fantastic. I get to feel worthless and expect extraordinary things from myself all at the same time.” He smiled back warmly and said, “The inconveniences of being human.”
2015 was the beginning of a time of massive personal growth for me. I had just gone back to work after a decade being mostly home with my three young kids. My stress level was high and my time for self-care was low. When I found myself struggling with food, it was the last straw. It was such a blow to my identity to have my eating feel out of control, to barely fit into the maternity jeans I secretly pulled out again (stretch panel to the rescue), to spend my days helping clients through their eating challenges only to come home and watch myself struggle with those same things.
It was my shameful little secret until my expanding waistline threatened to out me. I would rally and have a few “perfect” days and then fall back into old habits. Again, a cycle I help coach clients through all the time. At some point along the way, I would get sick of the white-knuckling and just take my hands off the wheel.
I struggled alone because I didn’t want to admit I was a dietitian who needed help with her eating. I felt like a fraud. I worried that it wouldn’t be long before others would know – especially if I couldn’t stop my weight from creeping up. I finally came to the conclusion I had to do something different. Since I was basically hiding from the world (and from myself) that I needed nutrition help, I invested in the next best thing that made sense. I hired a personal trainer, and I hit the gym – hard. It didn’t solve my eating woes, but looking back, it was a significant step on the path that led me here. It taught me these important lessons:
1 1.Trying harder at what is not working will never work.
2 2.Experiences have a way of leading you to solutions you could never think your way to.
Even when you aren’t clear on what else to do, continuing to do the same thing you know is not working makes no logical sense. Yet we all do it, right? Do the same thing, and hope for a different result. Favour the familiarity of the broken thing you know over the fear of the unknown. The trouble with this is twofold. First, time doesn’t wait, and you continue further along the not working path. Which is usually not great, or it wouldn’t be a problem in the first place. Second, no exposure to new experiences means no exposure to possible new solutions.
Phillip McKernan, a coach of mine, says, “In the absence of clarity, take action.” While you’re waiting for the answer or clarity to emerge, do something else. Try something new, anything new. Glean from the experiences of others who have walked a similar path before you (good on you for grabbing this book, right?). Then try something. Be a gatherer of new experiences. See what works for you. Repeat.
Taking some action (hiring a trainer) prompted a whole bunch of other actions in me that eventually showed me what I needed to figure this out. I started reading more self-help books and listening to podcasts. Courses, workshops, certifications, and personal development events made their way on to my calendar. I stumbled across an online nutrition company named Precision Nutrition (PN). When I found their philosophy aligned beautifully with mine, I registered for their Level 1 certification course and plugged into their groups and networks. Connecting with a community full of like-minded, caring folks was another significant step on my path.
While doing the course, I learned about PN’s online nutrition coaching program. I knew I was struggling with my eating, but the thought about getting myself a nutrition coach had never crossed my mind. I mean, how could I justify that? I’m an R.D. for Pete’s sake. I know exactly what to do to get a few pounds off and get back on track. I’m just not doing it. On registration day, I had an overwhelming sense that I had to go for it. I had to invest in me.
In July 2016, I signed on to work with a nutrition coach. Yup, me, a dietitian who knows all the things and helps others with their eating every day, signed up with a coach. I told myself it was an “empathy exercise” to be on the client side of the table (wasn’t that nice of me to frame it that way for myself?) My year as Coach Pam’s client challenged and changed me in ways I could not have imagined. I finished the year at the same weight I started. My desired physical changes would come later, but the change that happened inside me that year was off the charts. I continued to pursue personal and professional growth in every way possible. My fear of being the coach with a coach was gone. When I got stuck at something, I got help. Do I think I would have figured this nutrition piece out on my own? Maybe. Eventually. But all the other stuff I learned along the way has been priceless, and I can’t imagine where I’d be if I had missed that experience. If there is ever a chance I can fast-track my way through a mess that impacts my life, I’m going to choose that. Life is too short and too precious not to.
I experienced the power a skilled coach had to evoke change in me. I finally accepted and embraced that change can only come through discomfort (and sometimes pain). Discomfort is not only likely in the change process; it’s essential. That makes sense, right? If you are comfortable in something or tolerate it even if you don’t like it, there is not enough pressure to move you to change it. Change becomes inevitable when the pain of staying where you are is greater than the pain of making the change. If you’re here reading this book, I’m guessing you may be there. Ray Dalio’s book Principles is full of valuable insights including this one: Principle 2.2 A, “View painful problems as potential improvements that are screaming at you.” There was a lot of screaming, and I answered the call.
On the professional front, I was able to help my clients in new ways. I had a truckload of new tools to help them get unstuck in places I couldn’t before, and it felt fantastic. As I reflected on my work, I browsed through the testimonials I had posted on my website at the time. I thought about the clients I had really connected with and helped over the years.
It suddenly hit me like a post candy splurge sugar high: a whole bunch of people I helped were also health and wellness professionals. A physiotherapist, other dietitians, a massage therapist, a personal trainer, a nurse, a doctor… People who had enough healthy eating knowledge to know how to do this, but they got into trouble anyhow. Without realizing it, I had been helping them through their stuff with the tools I learned to help myself. And I was changing their lives for the better. Here is what they said:
“I want to thank Coach Irene who used her ninja-like coaching skills on me to help me figure out how I could get out of my own way.”
“I love knowing that you’re in my corner, and on those days where it feels more like the grind than something fun, I have this made-up voice in my head that is you I can hear cheering me on telling me that even though I don’t want to, I will be happy I did. And then I do, and then I’m always happy I did.”
“I’m pleased with what I have accomplished Irene, and I’m so grateful to you for having coached me along the way. I’ve come out of the experience forever changed and a happier person for it.”
I got curious about the patterns in these clients (and myself). You might think that being a nutrition expert would make it less likely for you to land yourself in trouble with eating and make it easier for you to get out of it if you do, right? Me too. Yet, it didn’t seem to work that way. I saw these common struggles show themselves in different ways over and over again:
Inconveniences of Being Human
Your body doesn’t know you’ve studied to fill your brain with amazing nutrition knowledge. Your nutrition expert body still wants and needs the same basic stuff as the body that belongs to a human who has not studied nutrition. It still plays by the same psychological
