I just wanted more protein… and ended up tracking calories again?!

I was just trying to be responsible.

After doing some careful research (read: me, on my third oat milk latte, hunched over my laptop like a nerdy nutrition detective), I realized I wasn’t getting nearly enough protein to support my running, recovery, and muscle repair.

I’m a non-meat eater (except seafood and eggs), so between the lentils, fish, and scramble eggs, I thought I was doing okay. But nope. Turns out, I was barely scratching the surface. And since I’m also currently on an iron supplement (my levels were a fraction of what they should’ve been last year), it made total sense to focus on upping my protein game.

So I did what any high-achieving, spreadsheet-loving, sporty woman would do: I calculated my protein needs based on my weight, age, activity level, goals, and the fact that I don’t eat meat. Got the number. Boom. Cool. Let’s do this.

Then came the tricky part…

How the heck was I supposed to know if I was actually hitting that number?

I downloaded a familiar app. You know the one—the app that’s supposedly just for food logging but somehow becomes your full-time food accountant, calorie cop, and inner critic, all rolled into one.

But hey—I told myself, I’m only using it for protein. No big deal.

That lasted… five days.

By day 7? I was knee-deep in old habits: logging every bite, adding in workouts, and watching that little calorie number like it was the damn stock market.

And the old thoughts? They slid right back in like they never left:

“Maybe I’ll just eat a smaller portion so I don’t go over…”
“Should I pick something with fewer calories instead?”
“I probably don’t need carbs at dinner, right?”

UM. WHAT?

I haven’t used this app in over two years. I know this path. It leads straight to food obsession, guilt, constant mental math, and suddenly basing your self-worth on whether you went over a few hundred calories.

But this time? I caught it.

I saw the spiral happening. I didn’t ignore it. I didn’t gaslight myself. I didn’t say “oh it’s fine, I’ve got this under control.” Because I know myself. And I know when that little voice comes back, she doesn’t shut up quietly.

So I did what had to be done.

Deleted the app. Bye, Felicia.

Here’s what no one tells you:
You can have the BEST of intentions, the most science-backed goals, the noblest reasons for wanting to track something—and still find yourself dragged back into old disordered patterns in less than a freakin’ week.

That doesn’t mean you failed. That means you’ve lived it before. And your brain is wired to slide into familiar territory, even when that territory kinda sucked.

The difference now? You see it happening. And that’s where your power is.

Now, to be totally honest? I’m still looking for a way to track my protein that doesn’t send me right back into Diet Brain. Some magical app that doesn’t whisper “calorie deficit” in my ear every time I log a hard-boiled egg.

But in the meantime, I’m doing what I teach:
✨ Listening to my body.
✨ Eating with intention, not obsession.
✨ Making conscious choices to include protein in every meal—without making it a math problem.

Still learning. Still growing.
Always a work in progress...and I'm100% okay with that.

💙