Hormones are amazing things aren’t they. I mean really, they are! They are wonderful little chemical messengers that do all sorts of vital jobs, like telling us when we’re hungry or full, controlling our body temperature and metabolism, and they conduct the whole orchestra of events that is our fertility. Truly wonderous stuff. Continue Reading
I want to eat you….
I really quite like chocolate. Not in an obsessive “I have to have it all the time!!!” kind of way, but in a “I’d quite like some chocolate now so I’m going to have some kind of way. So eliminating chocolate for AIP was, hmmm, less than ideal! And I have to admit, it was one of the few things that the longer I didn’t have it the more I wanted it (I’m sure we’ve all been there)! Continue Reading
Yesterday, Sunday 1st March, was our first public gathering of the AIP Supper Club! It started as a beautiful evening back in November with Jo from Joanna Frankham Health Coaching and Rory, The Paleo PI. We shared (AIP compliant!) food, stories and information and realised what a lovely thing it is to pass time in the company of people who get who you are, what you are doing and why you are doing it. And we decided we wanted to share this experience with other AIP peeps!
Rory, Jo and Kirstie
credit: Jas Poole Photos
We all know the importance of getting a good nights sleep don’t we. But I wonder how many of us are actually making sure that we do just that. I’ve never been a morning person, always been late to bed and late to rise, left to my own devices I’d be up til 4am and in bed til 12pm – but that’s just not how life works. So for pretty much the whole of my adult life (lets not talk about teenage years!) I’ve been burning the candle at both ends. Determined not to “miss out” on any fun by going to bed early, even when that “fun” may have been watching another episode of Midsomer Murders! And then I’d snooze my alarm til the very last minute the next morning, only just leaving myself enough time to have a shower, get dressed and run out the door. Continue Reading