It is just about 6 days until January 2nd when I start on my strict 30 day Paleo experiment. Last night I ate half a pizza and then a ton of cookies with my friend S. By the end of the night I was miserable and nauseous. For the most part I try to eat paleo, though not strictly, but when I go for the pizza or cookies, I feel it. I feel like I've been hit by a mac truck this morning. Lethargic, nauseous, achy. It's odd.
I've been thinking about what I want to measure here while we do the 30 days. Probably vitality and stress level. We won't be starting our IVF treatment until February so this will be a good time to get my body into fighting shape for getting crazy ass hormone shots. I'm not too concerned about weight, but I do know that when I'm eating crappy, I do tend to put weight on, so staying stable where I am long term would be nice. I am also interested in adding a couple of other things to my Paleo lifestyle that are probably not super Paleo, those being a) daily meditation and b)daily flossing.
Yes, I'm gross, I only floss like 2 or 3 days a week. The husband (let's call him the Grey Goose) is obsessed with flossing. He's always browbeating me with tall tales of halitosis and tooth decay. I shove vitamins down his throat every night and he chases me around the flat with floss. You can tell that things in our home are sexy and exciting.
Lolo has had a devil may care attitude with food this week. Some of the major players have been pizza! With guest stars, cookie dough! And super special surprise guest, burrito! with cheese!
I do know that after 3 or 4 nice paleo days, that I begin to feel great. Koko, you make a great point about the lasagna. I'll make an alternative to that as well. Maybe I'll stir fry some kale and chicken and butternut squash and onions, just in case.
I actively took Friday and Saturday off from running. It was Christmas Eve and Christmas. I don't celebrate it, but my period showed up on Christmas Eve morning, 5 days late. It was like a cruel Christmas joke. I thought that I was going to have a Christmas miracle for my Catholic husband. But alas, none. So I spent Friday and Saturday incredibly sad and hormonal and splayed on the couch. I worked a lot during that time on a book about food and feelings that I've been working on while the Grey Goose sat and studied.
Sunday I was on my way out to run when my friend called to tell me that he was attacked by hoodlums not too far from my house. So, I skipped the run to bring him to the ER while they tended to his broken jaw. I came home frazzled and crazed and ate about 10 cookies. Unlike me. The cookie thing has lasted until today. I dislike hospitals intensely. I spent a lot of time in them while my mother was dying and now, being in them just pulls at me in an visceral way.
I ran about 3 1/2 miles yesterday and ate about another 10 cookies and a bunch of pizza and today, I ran about 5 miles and also ate a bunch of pizza, not to mention a bunch of cookies and a burrito for dinner. It's a little crazy. I almost never eat this way, and if I do, it doesn't continue for days on end. The hospital visit threw me. And the person I was with threw me. We talked a lot in the 5 hours that we were there about my year. And it's been a hard year. And when he found out that his jaw was broken, he kind of pulled away (I think he was very upset, but too macho to show it) and I felt abandoned and rejected. And then comes the food. Saying it out loud is helpful. The worst part about eating crappy, or acting out with food is the way my body feels, so I'm looking forward to the structure of this all.
Oh yeah, I have a big intention to remember to always eat breakfast. I love breakfast, and I often forget about it. That's lame. And bacon is my favorite thing ever.