Wednesday, March 30, 2016

Day 1 of 23: This is Going to Get Tedious (for You)

I'm going to apologize in advance for the slog through my life you'll be taking for the next 23 days. In the past I've found blogging to be pretty damn effective as an accountability tool, so I'm going to use it that way again. Basically this is going to be a lot of pictures of food. So if you're into that, cool. If not, well, feel free to fuck right off. It's not like you're being forced to read this. Unless you are, in which case blink twice and I'll call the police.

So you know those cookies and that glass of wine from last night? Yeah. Those. I'm done doing that to myself. I woke up with a sugar hangover again this morning. My body is literally punishing me for eating badly, and my brain is over here like push through the pain, sissypants. I won't push through pain while running or squatting, but I'll push through the pain of eating badly. I've got my former fatty priorities in order.

In the spirit of "beast mode on" I rolled groggily out of bed, made myself a cup of Deathwish, and swallowed 800mg of Ibuprofen. Party on, Wayne. Then I made breakfast (read: I poured cereal) for the spawn and listened to them whine about how they wanted the other cereal. Party on, Garth. Then I walked them to school and hustled home so I could get down to eating, which is SRS BZNS. 

srs. bzns.

I'm shooting for 4.8L of water every day in addition to all this perfect eating. That is so much water. Ye gods. My pee is clear. I've fought through 3.2L so far today and I'm dreading the last 1600mL. But I've learned over the last 10 weeks that 80oz leaves me dehydrated, 100oz is barely hanging onto the edge of hydration, and 140oz makes my cell membranes sing or some shit. So I'll shoot for 160 and hope for the best. 

I braved the Instant Pot for the first time today. I've heard tell of super easy hard cooked eggs that peel so quickly it brings a tear to your eye. So I gave it a go. This fucking thing is scary. The release valve makes me feel like I'm in a nuclear plant about to go meltdown.

Please don't explode, please don't explode.

So the pot didn't explode, but one of the eggs did.


I'm going to make the assumption that it was cracked when I put it in the pot, because the other ones didn't go kerblewy. I'll try out the ease of peel bit tomorrow. 

I went to CF this morning for today's beatdown. Since the completion of the Open, Grant has decided to kick the shit out of everyone with a Hero WOD week. Today's took me 31:04 and included 150 burpees. At one point I was lying face down on the floor and said "I changed my mind. I don't want abs. Abs are overrated."  I'll go back again tomorrow. 

After the workout I hung around for a while and ate some stuff.

Red pepper, you complete me.

Once I'd wasted enough time, I headed home and did some humdrum stuff. Empty the dishwasher, laundry, that kind of thing. I managed to bathe, which is somewhat impressive. Showering seems like an awful lot of work sometimes. 

I did try on a swimsuit I bought (online, I'm not in a mental place where I can deal with that in a department store dressing room) a few months ago. It fits, but I'm thinking I can make it look a lot better over the next 3 weeks. I can't believe I'm putting this here. Please look at it through squinty eyes. At this point I think just getting a tan would make it look 10 times better.  No filter here, just me and my scars and cellulite. And tattoos. And laundry. 
Sweet baby dolphins, what am I thinking? Also my ass needs work. 

After the trauma that is trying on a swimsuit, I ate. Does anyone else do that, or just me? Every time I've ever gone shopping for a swimsuit, I head straight to the fucking food court right after. At least this time I didn't eat Sbarro.

Pritty colors.

It was such a shitty, rainy afternoon that I opted not to run. I should have, but I didn't. I made a dishcloth instead. Sue me. I did walk over to the school to retrieve the smalls, so there's that. We headed home so they could get a snack and a start on homework before CF Kids. I also had a snack. Gotta check those boxes.

Yellow pepper and hummus. Not very colorful.

While the kids had their workout, I resumed my squat cycle. Shockingly, it went rather well today. After this morning's quad/hamstring beatdown I wasn't sure, but all my reps felt pretty solid. My warm-up reps felt really, really light (yes, they are light for most people, but I suck at squatting) and I was able to finish up pretty quickly. In time to watch my daughter squat with her heels on the floor! We're breaking the cycle, people! With luck and little baby dolphins she won't have to spend a year learning how to squat properly at age 34.

Once they finished up we came home so I could attempt the Instant Pot again. Yes, again. I had a half-thawed freezer meal that I thought might make a good first attempt at pressure-cooked dinner. After a few worried texts to my IP guru friend, I was ready to give it a go. Verdict? Success! Behold! Bruschetta chicken (with rice and chickpeas because checkboxes, yo). The kids even ate it!

I only had to bribe them a little.

Right now I'm feet up in front of the fire while the dog is comatose on the tile. I've discovered that turning on the fireplace draws her over there and within minutes she's in doggy dreamland. If you look closely you can see her nose.

She's snoring, which kills me.

In about an hour I'll eat my dessert. My last boxes to check for the day. I look forward to this evening snack. It feels like a treat (and I guess it is) but in the best possible way.

Oikos Triple Zero is fantastic.

So here's my day in a nutshell. I fucking win at vegetables today. I even got both legumes, which hardly ever happens. Oh, and the dairy is optional, and today I opted not. Still two slots to fill for water, but I'll get there or explode trying. 

Checking boxes, making gains.

Tomorrow it's back to the salt mine, but only for 6 nights this rotation. I burned a day of PTO just because. The thought of my next off week being 8 days makes me practically giddy. I have my final 3 mile time trial on my second day off. I really need to kill this one, confidence-wise. If it's slow I'm pretty much kissing a sub-2 goodbye. 

25 minutes to bedtime, and based on the noises coming from the downstairs playroom that'll be none too soon. Giving a pair of 6 year olds yo-yos may have been ill-advised. I fear for my lamps. 

There you have it. If you're feeling sleepy, please don't drive. I'll do my best to bore the shit out of you every night for the next few weeks.

Sigh. Time to refill my water. 800mL to go. gurgle 

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