I Don't Wanna, but I Hafta

Got up and made it to CrossFit this morning without falling on the ice. Big win there. I'm so covered with inexplicable (and explicable) bruises that I feel like one more would be a cruel joke by the universe. The big ass bruises on my shins from my box fight are evolving and now just itch like fucking mad. Not only do I bruise incredibly easily, they also heal incredibly slowly. I'm sure this is in part due to my practically translucent Northern European skin (along with a chronically low platelet count).  Fantastic husband was my partner for a bunch of sit-ups, rowing, medball passes, and burpees. Oh, and tabata push-ups and squats.

7 days out of the box means I was hurting by the end. It seems unfair. It's not like I was sedentary for fuck's sake. I did hit a freestanding handstand afterwards, though. It was fleeting, but it was legit. Baby steps.

I got up early to read my book for a bit before the kids got up, because I am bookish and dull. I made myself a cup of coffee and decided to spend my grain serving on some oats this morning. I mixed in a bunch of blueberries and the last of my raspberries, sprinkled on a little stevia, and finished with slivered almonds. It was tasty.

Look at all that fucking nutrition.

The kids dawdled until their breakfast was stone cold, but they still ate it, so who cares. In truth, my kids don't seem to care for hot food. They are forever whining about things being "too hot" when they are in fact barely more than room temp. This is why I refuse to make hot chocolate for them. Fantastic husband does, but he's a much better parent than i am.

After the workout we had a few errands to run (or I did, but I wasn't driving, so it became "we") and then headed home to wash up. Fantastic husband humored me by driving through Starbucks so I could have my second cup of coffee and my dairy serving at the same time in the form of a small flat white. Or "tall" because I like my coffee pretentious.

Mmmmm....dairy.

I neglected to bring my sunglasses along and I don't do well in bright glare-y light, so FH offered me a pair of glasses he had in his truck. Aviators. Personally, I think aviators look like total shit on everyone except...well...fucking aviators. And maybe like, cops. Otherwise? If you are wearing aviators I think you look like a tool. Or Cartman from South Park. It's just my opinion, but I'm right.

See? Way more assholey than usual.

Once we were home I ate. Of course I ate. That's like my job now. A nice red pepper and some cheeeese. I love that it's totally cool for me to eat cheese on the regular. Mmmmm...cheeeeeese.

I'm allowed a recovery/e-lyte drink daily.

I like the FitAID.

And then I ate some more, because there are only so many hours in a day and I need to spend them eating. I need to spend all of them eating. I made chicken salad with 6oz of canned chicken, tomato, chickpeas, chives, and homemade mayo. Ordinarily I'd put a cucumber in there for crunch, but I didn't have one. We have celery, but I sort of hate celery. Not only is it weird and stringy, but it tastes like shit and makes my tongue numb. Hard pass. I also had a sweet potato, because I needed to eat one at some point today and this seemed as good a time as any.

Gods. So full. So...full.

I went and did some shit with the girl child and made a quick stop at the grocery store for the aforementioned cucumber and a few cans of black beans and chickpeas. I'm supposed to eat legumes, which is fine. I have no philosophical issue with them especially the soaked ones. They seem to digest perfectly well for me. Lectins schmectins. If they become a problem I'll ask to cut them out. 

After my round of afternoon errands I came home and (you guessed it) ate. I ate again. OMG with the eating. Yellow pepper with roasted red pepper hummus. I haven't had hummus in ages. This was tasty, even though I really, really didn't want to eat it.

I'M SO FULL, MERCY!!!

I finally got around to folding the laundry I did yesterday. In fairness, half of my clothes hang to dry, so I usually wait for them before folding everything so I can do it all at once. These days I only do laundry when my favorite workout clothes are dirty. This week my laundry was all gym clothes and scrubs. There was not a single "casual" shirt or pair of jeans. I'm not sure if that's awesome or sad.

I've got 99 pieces of laundry and they are pretty much all

workout clothes.

Dinner was a dish called antipasto salad from Paleo Indulgences. It's tasty. It also got me all the rest of my oils for today. I still needed 2 servings of veg, so I made a pile of broccoli to go with it. Admittedly an odd pairing, but I'll get better at this. As I forced down the last few spears of broccoli, fantastic husband looked at me and said "This is killing you, isn't it." Considering I wasn't hungry at the start of the meal? Yeah.

Killing. Me.

I had the option to get on the treadmill tonight, but I'm so full I can't bear the thought of it right now. Plus it's just 5 miles easy. I can do it tomorrow instead, and I prefer running early in the day to running later. Either way, the miles will get run. They're on the plan, they get done. That's how we make progress. 

Speaking of progress, I'm not making much on this. Watermelon, Greek yogurt, and chia seeds. I have to eat it, but I don't wanna. Sweet baby dolphins, I'm so full. 

At least it's pretty?

And later tonight? I'll eat these.

I don't want you.

After waddling up to bed last night, I thought for sure I would feel like shit this morning. That I would wake up with a rock in my stomach and not be able to eat a damn thing. Instead I woke up hungry. Really hungry, actually. I read somewhere that you're eating right if you go to bed with the waistband of your pants feeling a little snug and wake up to it feeling loose. Well, that was me yesterday. It's too early to tell how this will shake out, and I'm struggling with it right now, but I can't help but feel that the payoff is going to be unbelievable. 

It better be, because eating is becoming like a new hobby and I already have too many of those. 

Tomorrow will start with 5 on the treader since the arctic blast has arrived, then after eating a ridiculous amount of food I'm going to try out the Team WOD at the box. I used to do the Team WOD back in the day, but it's been a while. I need to start doing it again. 

Tomorrow night we're meeting some friends out for pizza. That's less than ideal from a dietary standpoint, but life happens and pizza happens, and it will all be fine. Fortunately, I'm so full all the damn time that I crave nothing. I doubt I'll even hear the siren song of pizza after cramming myself full of what-the-fuck-ever all day. 

And now, back to my watermelon concoction. I don't wanna. But I will. Because I am a rule follower. 

I'm a rule follower insofar as I follow them when they make sense to me. Otherwise, fuck that. 

EAT ALL THE FOODS. ALL OF THEM.

Yesterday I saw the sports nutritionist. Because I was having a BIA (bioimpedance analysis) done I couldn't work out for 12 hours before my appointment or eat for 4 hours before. I also had to pound at least a quart of water an hour or so beforehand. Wednesday was a treadmill run and 75 minutes of hot yoga, but I was done by 8pm. It was also my last night on at work, so I had breakfast at 7am and then headed home. Since I couldn't do my usual run/barre combo or go to the box I took a nap. Sleeping certainly makes fasting easier. Problem is, when I woke up I wanted coffee. Oh yeah, also no caffeine for 12 hours before. No coffee, no food, no workout.  Cranky. That's what I was.

I dovetailed an oil change onto my trip to Appleton. This doesn't seem like it would be a problem, but the Mazda dealership has a lounge with drinks and snacks and coffee. None of which I could have. So I resentfully drank water and tried to lose myself in book 2 of The Expanse series.

Side note: If you're a sci-fi person? Read this series. The first book knocked me right out. It's called Leviathan Wakes. Book 2 is Caliban's War and I'm practically unable to do anything but read it. The premise is fascinating, the plot is interesting, the action is non-stop...and the female characters are intelligent, powerful, and nuanced. Love love love love love.

Anyway, the sports nutritionist. I was measured, weighed (I guessed my weight within 0.2 pounds and I haven't weighed myself in months 165.2 if you're interested), and had the BIA done. I found out that I'm a perfectly healthy, sturdy person with substantially more muscle than the average bear (yay) and 26% body fat (boo). I should mention that that percentage is considered normal, but I'd like to see it drift south.  Kirk (nutrition guy) was happy to hear that I don't want to lose weight. Every 2 weeks I will have the BIA repeated so I can see the balance shifting between fat and muscle. The test also measures total body water and determines hydration status. Apparently I'm very well hydrated. Yipee! We also spent some time going over my lab work. Everything looked pretty routine.

The crux of the message I got was "You don't eat enough". I knew that was coming. I was given a checklist of servings of food that I am required to eat each day and a list of examples of what each serving entails.

Here's what I gotta cram in my pie hole.

Broken down this has me eating 5 or 6 times a day. I have avoided snacking for quite a long time because it takes me down a rabbit hole of meaningless eating. A little of this, a little of that...it adds up to a lot of bullshit, usually. So now I have to snack. And eat huge meals. It's fucking strange.  

Breakfast was 2 eggs, a big handful of spinach, a handful of mushrooms, half a sweet potato, and a cup of raspberries. This is about 2-2.5 times the amount of food I usually eat at breakfast. I had to break out the giant dinner plates to accommodate it all. I spent years (YEARS!) eating off salad plates to control portions, and now I'm digging out the giant plates. Psychologically, this is challenging. Also this is a fuckton of food, and it's intimidating.

So much fucking food.

I ate it all. Then I felt ill. I allowed myself 2 cups of coffee today (nutrition man says I need to cut down my consumption). I'm also supposed to get 80ish oz of water. That's a lot of water.

Today was my 3 mile time trial. I was pretty pumped about it. When I walked the smalls to school this morning it was quite warm and I was very much looking forward to flat out flying for 24-27 minutes. I even put on my favorite shirt.

Plaid, stripes, and polka-dots. 

Whimsy, motherfuckers.

Then I went outside and literally slid down the driveway. For real. Our driveway has a pretty serious pitch. I stepped out of the garage and when I turned back to close the garage door I started to slide all the way down to the road. I had to walk back up in the snow and cling to the house to get back in. So yeah. No time trial today.

I came inside and grumped about the weather to fantastic husband for a bit. Then I ate a snack.

All the water.

Then jumped on the bloody treadmill for a few miles, since I couldn't do them outside and I'm not taking another fucking rest day.

Fucking treadmill. I look excited, yes?

So I did that, then I ice skated over to the school to collect the kids. They headed to the basement to watch cartoons and I made myself some lunch. Once again, giant dinner plate loaded with food. Once again, I ate it all.

Balls.

Then I did some laundry and tried not to ralph. My guts are not used to this much volume.  Also I read some more Caliban's War. Until my tablet needed to be plugged in. Having to plug in a book sucks, but if I buy any more physical books our house will collapse under their weight.

I gave the spawn an afternoon snack to stop them from whining about an afternoon snack. And I also had a snack.

Pretty normal, I guess.

It was leftover night for dinner, so I fed the hungry vultures sloppy joe's (which they devoured) and I heated up some leftover broccoli beef (homemade). The broccoli beef wasn't enough, though, so I added half a sweet potato and a cup of peas to get my legumes and my second serving of starchy veg. I had to force feed myself. I did not want to eat at all, much less this giant bowl of food.  Right now I feel uncomfortably full. I kind of want to lay on the couch and moan. If I was wearing pants with a button, I'd have to undo it. Fortunately I'm wearing leggings, which are totally pants.

So much food. So...much...food.

I still have to eat a protein serving tonight. I don't know how that's going to go. 

HBE. Just looking at this picture makes me feel ill.

Today was lower activity than intended. I was supposed to have a flat out effort on the run and then go to the box. Mother Nature fucked up my run, and the school system making today early release fucked up my trip to the box. Although, truthfully that was a blessing in disguise. I didn't need to be driving across town on icy roads. I'd like my new car not to end up like my old one. Maybe I would've been hungrier if I'd done those things. Maybe not. I'll have more going on tomorrow, so maybe I'll get to find out.

I've decided that I'm going to trust the process here. Right now I feel like this is kind of crazy, but nutrition guy knows what my goals are and he swears he can help me get there. Two weeks with this initial plan, then tweaking as needed. That means I might end up eating even more. I can't believe I'm saying this, but that sounds terrible. 

Tomorrow we're going to hit up the community WOD and I'll probably go for another boring treader run. I've been out of the box way too long. Life got in the way this week, and the pesky need to sleep.  Speaking of sleep, I'll be turning in early tonight. All this eating is exhausting.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to waddle up the stairs and put on my pajamas. I hope I fit through the bedroom door.

You Can Teach an Old Dog New Tricks

Waking up went better this morning (50% less arguments about pants! 100% less panic dressing of the girl child!). Figures, because I fed them cereal this morning. Everyone beats a path to the dining room for cereal, but a full hot breakfast? That shit is getting cold on the table and nobody cares. I've no doubt those ungrateful bastards would subsist on Froot Loops and Pringles if given the option. I find this frustrating because we actually cook food that doesn't suck. My mom was not a good cook. Just ask her, she'll tell you. Canned beets and cauliflower steamed into mush alongside a dry-as-dust teriyaki marinated chicken breast? My kids should be kissing our feet for the meals we provide. To this day I can't stomach teriyaki. They'll get theirs, though. As soon as they go off to college? No longer invited for dinner. Suck it.

The school walk was the purview of fantastic husband this morning so I just enjoyed my coffee and the news. Lucy the psychotic Vizsla was off to Fun Camp for the day so I made my own breakfast a little early so I could drop her off on the way to the box.

Wasn't feeling eggs this morning.

My original plan was to take a Barre class today, but I was able to get a haircut so I reorganized. I dropped the dogger off and headed over to CrossFit for some lunges and rowing. Four days in a row isn't usual for me, and I'm pretty sure I'm going to pay tonight as the muscle soreness sets in. Those 100 GHDs yesterday? I'm just now starting to feel the soreness. By morning sneezing is going to be excruciating. Awesome.

I've been trying to score a pair of Chameleon capris from InkNBurn for about a year. They never, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever have my size in stock. If you try to Ebay that shit or after-market it? The price becomes ridiculous. I don't want them that badly. The other day a Chameleon print racerback became available and I bought it. Not as cool as the pants, but the tank fits like a glove, it's pretty, and the material breathes and doesn't bind. Worked great for me today. 

Pardon the stupid stance.

I was trying to show the print.

After the workout I did some extra credit lifting and worked on my handstands for a bit. I actually hit a freestanding (still with the wall behind me for safety) a couple of times. I got a few pointers from one of the coaches, and I started migrating out from the wall. It's so close...I'll keep practicing.

I had my hair colored and trimmed, and then realized I hadn't eaten anything since the above toast and fruit. Yesterday I was desperately craving a cheeseburger, and I still wanted one today, so I decided to give 5 Guys another shot. I ordered ONE "little" cheeseburger with mustard and pickles. It took TWENTY MINUTES to get it. I get that they're made to order, I do, but twenty minutes for one cheeseburger when all you make are hamburgers and fries? Fuck you. 

Yep, I'm eating a cheeseburger in bed.

Be jealous.

Since it's back to the salt mine tonight I took a nap this afternoon. Sometimes that works well for me, sometimes not. I ate my cheeseburger and watched a little TV. I'm pretty sure I slept, but I had a series of interesting-yet-slightly-fucked-up dreams and I think I woke up a lot. But I lucid dream pretty often, so maybe not? Either way, I rested for a few hours and hopefully it'll be enough to carry me through tonight. Tomorrow is a light day, just 3 miles at 10:30min/mile so I'll get some sleep and catch those miles in the early afternoon. Ordinarily I'd go to yoga, but there's a special session and the timing doesn't work for me. Oh well. Sunday night. 

After I woke up (if I was sleeping) I spent some time chit chatting with fantastic husband, then headed out to collect the dog from Fun Camp. She fucking loves Fun Camp. I almost feel bad going to pick her up. She's happy to see me, but I feel like we are way less fun then her dog buddies. 

Tonight fantastic husband made a dish we used to eat all the time, but sort of forgot about. Pesto chicken with spaghetti squash. This is so easy and so delicious. 2 jars of pesto, some mozzarella, and a squash. 

NOM.

I have my runs scheduled for the coming week, my yoga classes booked, and a tentative WOD schedule worked out. Hopefully the next 7 days will be full of quality sleep and good activity. The first part of this week went pretty damn well. I have a tendency to forget to log my workouts. It seems like a silly thing, but you can't track progress if you don't track. I've been really lax about recording the weights etc I use at CF over the years and I'm sure that's hurt me over time. I've been pretty consistent for more than a month now, and I like watching the pages fill up in this book.

Is there anything more beautiful than a full training log?

The purpose for tracking is 2-fold. I see the sports nutritionist in a week and I need to be able to say "This is what I do" and back it up with numbers. Data tells a story. Also seeing full pages in this thing is motivating for me. I don't want to follow up 4 days like these with 3-7 days of blank spaces. 

Time for a little Wheel watching (I'm old, shut up) and knitting. One mitten almost finished and because i have 2 hands I guess I'll start another. Back into my Angel of Death get up for another week. Unless we hit the Powerball on Saturday night. 700 million dollars? I think I could live on that for a good long while.

I could get those diamond fangs I've always wanted.

That's hot.

My Hamstrings May Hate Me and Other Stories

It's fantastic husband's work day which means I fly solo with the spawn. This morning the boys got up and moving pretty rapidly (with only 2 fights over pants) and the girl child decided she needed "a few more minutes" which resulted in me basically stuffing her into some clothes at 7:05 so she'd have time to eat breakfast before school.

Breakfast on the table, lunches packed, winter clothes located...and then it was time to chase them into their get ups for the walk to school. I've only been walking them halfway (basically just across the main road) and letting them go the rest of the way alone. Two reasons: 1. It's cold and I'm lazy. 2. The boys are all about doing it themselves.  I like their moxie. I also like getting back to my coffee.

I made myself a nice breakfast and a cup of coffee.

These blueberries were fucking divine.

I went to the box for 9:15 today. Today was the third day in a row and my hip flexors and hamstrings knew it. I'm glad I went to yoga yesterday, because I'm fairly certain I would have been immobile today without all that deep stretching. Warming up was painful. Goodmornings with the bar held overhead? What fresh hell is this? I also realized during the warm-up that I'd grabbed the stripey leggings with the loose waist. Lucky me, I got to spend the whole workout hiking up my pants. Sigh. The coach took a video of class and I was actually in the shot part of the time! Almost 4 years at this gym and I've only ever been videoed once-for sucking at double unders. Now, I generally avoid being photographed or videotaped, but when you never ever make a WOD video people start to wonder if you actually go to the gym.  I didn't PR my clean & jerk, but I tied my old one and as sore and tired as I was today? Totally fine with that.

Time wasn't an issue today, so I stayed after the WOD to do some extra credit in the form of GHD sit-ups and handstand practice. I did a total of 100 GHDs and practiced lifting alternating hands off the ground while in a handstand. That's harder than it sounds. I feel as though 100 GHDs should grant a person an automatic 6-pack. It doesn't. Still only 2 somewhat questionable abs. Sigh.

Man, that mirror is gross. 

Someone should clean this place.

I came home after the workout and had some lunch.

It ain't all salmon and asparagus, people, sometimes?

I eat garbage.

I was desperately craving salt, so this is what I arrived at. shrug Mostly I just needed something to carry me through my planned 4 miler.

It was a really nice afternoon. Bright blue skies, high 30s. I geared up and headed out. My plan said to run 10:40s, so I went out nice and easy. Onto ice. Into a headwind. On dead ass legs. Sigh. I averaged 10:58s overall, but my pace was all over the map. Nine? 10:50? 11:15? They all felt the fucking same to me today. The wind and the surface and the traffic (seriously, traffic? It was 11am on a Wednesday!) made it more challenging, but I honestly can't "feel" my pace in a meaningful way. At one point I looked down at my watch (which gives real time pace) and it said 10:40 on the dot and I apparently became so happy that I sped way up and finished the mile in 10:20. Fuck me. I have the rest of the month to work on it, I guess. Still, as long as I've been running you'd think I could figure out pace.  I have zero awareness of my body in space. It's alarming.

I spent some quality time knitting rude mittens and drinking coffee. Afternoons spent alone in my house could be so productive. This could be the cleanest house in the neighborhood. Instead I knit mittens that say "Cold as Fuck" and take on oddball projects at the request of my favorite CF coach. That's right, I said it. Justin is my favorite. And because he's my favorite I'm knitting another hat for his soon-to-be baby. It's coming out beautifully so far. I realize this seems out of character for me, but in my defense it's going to use up quite a bit of miscellaneous yarn from my stash.

I won't spoil the surprise.

I took the kids to CF kids after school and they had a good time as usual. All 3 actually ate the leftover chili I served for supper, so that's a win.

With cheese. Mmmmmm.

I still have to wash the stinky little bastards tonight, but once they're clean I can stuff them into bed and they won't question the timing. T-minus 30 minutes or so.

Oh! I also got my Instant Pot today! Because I totally needed another kitchen gadget. But I have a recipe for Mongolian Beef that must be tried. 

It's in the box. I'm too lazy to go over there.

Tomorrow will be fairly light for me, with a trip to the box at 9:15 followed by a haircut/dye with the fabulous Kim. My hair didn't fade as much this go-round, but could still use a little re-redding, so that's the plan.  No run and no yoga tomorrow! Woo! Hopefully I'll be able to get a substantial nap in the afternoon before heading back into the salt mine tomorrow night. 

It's time to start buckling down on my studying for the Peds exam and earning some CE in the process. Hopefully my brain will benefit from all this increased activity. More bloodflow or oxygen or some shit.

Another week off draws to a close. It was a good one. Here's hoping I can maintain momentum going into this next week and carrying forward. I will conquer my inner sloth one day at a time.

At least my inner sloth is a badass.

Day 1, Done!

What a beautiful day it was today. Winter like it should be. Bright sun, bright snow, high teens and minimal wind. Perfect weather for a run.

I had to blast the small ones out of bed this morning (of course), but nothing was gonna wreck my good mood: BACK TO SCHOOL TODAY!!!! Get up kids and GTFO of my house. Mama's got shit to do.

So they had some waffles and I had some coffee and when fantastic husband got home from work it was off to school with my little demons  darlings and breakfast time for me.

Well rounded as fuck.

I invited fantastic husband to join me for 3 miles at 10:30/mile and he opted to come along. We picked the neighborhood route figuring the snow and ice would prevent us from going too fast. Who the fuck am I now that going too fast is a concern? My 30 year old self is wearing an expression of disbelief.

My new watch was beautiful, catching the satellite immediately. First mile 10:32. Rockin'. Second mile 10:32. Consistency, bitches. Third mile 10:26. Average pace 10:30. FUCK YEAH. I downloaded the Garmin app and it magically found my watch and spit out a shitload of info about our little jaunt...with a new schmancy interface. WINNING.

Since fantastic husband had some errands to run, he dropped me off at Jenstar for core yoga and went about his business. I had a painful time, as usual (ALL THE PLANKS). FH picked me up again, I ate the apple I remembered to bring (hooray for food!) and we were off to CrossFit.

The WOD today was windsprints, burpee box jumps @ 24" and power snatches. I set up a 55# snatch and the coach asked "You're going to snatch 65#, right?" and I was all "Nooooooo". So he stated "You're going to snatch 65#" and I went "Uhhh...okay." For the record? My 1 rep max stands at 75# because I'm a fucking scaredy cat with snatching. This was 10 rounds of 5 reps each. TEN. ROUNDS. So I only got through 9 of them in the time cap. We'll forget that tidbit.  First round, first jump, I fell over the box in epic style. I don't do anything by half measures. I hit the box with my shins, then fell forward over it onto my forearms, then fell off it onto my head. I laughed. I'm sure it looked ridiculous. I have 2 cuts, two huge swollen bruises on my shins, and my forearms are already colorful. 

But I picked myself up and kept going. That's the important thing, right? 

I'll keep telling myself that when I cringe pulling socks or leggings over my damaged, damaged shins.

After all this I smelled pretty fantastic, so it was straight into the shower when we got home. Then it was into compression socks to try and control the swelling. At least they're cute. 

Sadly hidden by jeans. 

At least the bruises will camouflage my spider veins.

I got a little out of control with the liquid eyeliner. I love love love liquid eyeliner, but man, if you fuck up the line just keeps getting thicker and thicker and thicker... It'll look great running down my face during the WOD tomorrow. That's right, I'll still be wearing it in the morning because I don't wash my face before bed. Never have, never will. Ain't nobody got time for that.

Like I put it on with a Sharpie. Jesus.

I'm not entirely sure why I put it on, since all I did was drink boozy coffee and knit rude mittens for the rest of the day.

Me and this mug are going places, man.

We are totally simpatico.

My favorite word.

Oh, I did have lunch, adult style.

All nutrition-y and shit.

Yeah. So I did pretty much nada until supper, at which point I ate. 

Fantastic husband's mystery chili.

And now I'm back in my chair, knittin' mittens and perusing the Athleta spring preview catalog. What's that you say? High waisted stripey leggings? TAKE MY MONEY.

Tomorrow is not a run day, so I'll be at the box for the #fiveonefive and yoga at noon. No idea what to do with the rest of my day. This must be what being independently wealthy feels like. Except without the money.

Go forth and be awesome. And if you fall along the way? Dust yourself off, pull on some cute socks, and carry on. 

Let's Talk About Plans

I'm not going to subject you to pictures of food today, mostly because I haven't eaten any meals. Unless you count toast as a meal. And I don't. I should have eaten meals today, but I got busy and forgot. I'll have a proper dinner, though, promise.

We took the kids out to dinner and to hockey last night and it was okay. They were very well behaved at dinner, the game was a good one, and the Gamblers won by a ridiculous margin, so there was lots to celebrate. We didn't get the kids in bed until damn near 10pm, which should correlate with them sleeping in. Every parent knows that's horseshit, though. Kids don't sleep in unless you need to get them up for something that requires being dressed and on time. Then they are sooooo tiiiiiirrrreeeddd, Mooommmyyyy.

Today I decided that 5 days of multiple workouts in a row was enough and took a rest day. Well, a Mom rest day which means I still did dishes and laundry and cooked things. I finally washed our sheets and finished all my personal laundry. Is there any better feeling than a nice clean bed and all your favorite workout clothes clean and properly sorted? I didn't clean the floors though. That's excessive.

Yay! I made my bed! My Mom would be so proud.

The last couple of weeks I've been gathering my plans for 2016. I got the first installment of my sub-2 half marathon plan from Nate-the-running-coach and put it in my calendar. I had a consultation at Nutritional Healing and had my blood work for my initial appointment later this month. I spent some time reviewing our family calendar and plotting out my yoga visits and WOD days.  I'm all about the plan.

Red = run, Blue = CF, green = yoga, black = other

And yes, I use a paper calendar. Phone calendars are fucking frustrating. I want to see the whole month laid out. I think in broad strokes, not minutia. 

Running this month is about teaching myself to gauge pace. Right now I have 2 paces: "This feels awesome!" and "Kill me now". These two paces might be the exact same pace depending on the day. I have run 11 minute miles that felt like flying and 8 minute miles that felt like running through concrete. If you asked me during each of those runs what my pace was my answer would've been "I dunno, maybe like 10 min/mile?" I just can't tell. So this month I'm supposed to run 10:30s, 10:40s, and 10:45s and try to feel the difference. I also have a 3 mile time trial so Nate can assess my current level of fitness. I'm a little worried about that, because it could be 24 minutes or it could be 33. I am nothing if not inconsistent. 

I did get a new toy to help me. I do love new toys.

Garmin 620. 

I have a Garmin 10 that is perfectly serviceable for distance and mile splits, but this one is programmable for intervals of time and distance and can cue me if my pace falls too far off goal one way or another. It also has a tracker on it so that people you designate can see where you are at any time. Like a lo-jack. So from a funsies and happy place "Your friends can see your progress in races and on training runs!" and from a morbid place "We can locate your corpse when you don't return from your run!". 

On the nutrition front, I decided that I need some help learning to eat for performance. I really want this sub-2 half marathon. It's been a goal for a long time and I feel like I'm positioned to achieve it, but I'm not eating enough. It sounds stupid for someone who has fought her weight her whole adult life to say she's not eating enough (especially if she's still a little bit fat)...but I'm not. I've spent such a long time trying to reduce weight that I fear overeating. I know I need to eat more to build muscle and perform at my best, but it's hard to shake the small portion habit. All it takes is a day of my jeans feeling too tight and I'm panicking about regaining all my hard-fought weight loss. As active as I am I need to eat to perform and to recover, but I end up sort of flailing around trying to figure out what goes where from a food perspective. I don't need to lose weight, and I'm not averse to gaining as long as my body fat percentage falls, but I need guidance. So Kerry-the-sports-nutritionist at Nutritional Healing is going to look at my bloodwork, do some in depth analysis of my body composition, and formulate a plan to help me move from "Oh no! Gains!" to "Hell yeah! Gainnnzzzz!"

Fantastic husband planned out the monthly menu.

We always do better with a plan.

We were sort of off book with the menu planning for the last little while. Doing it helps both me and fantastic husband. We know what to prep and when, what to buy at the store, and what's for dinner every night. It's also built in variety. I simply can't eat the same thing every day. I mean, I can, but after a while it makes me hate life. Now I can take out menu plan and my training plan to the nutritionist and tailor make an eating plan for my needs. I like to do this as a whole month as well. Again, broad strokes, not minutia.

A good plan is like a roadmap. It can take you anywhere. There are few things in life that top the high of executing a well organized plan. Well, for me. But I'm bookish and dull, so take that with a grain of salt.

Someone told me recently that developing a plan and sticking to it is boring. Well, that's me. I've been a planner all my life. Not just a planner, but a contingency planner. If there is a scenario you can think of, I've thought of it and 6 different ways to deal with it including contingency plans for failure of each of the 6 plans. And contingencies on the contingencies. I am rarely surprised and rarely unprepared. If plan A fails, no big deal. Implement contingency plan A-1. That failed? Plan B. And so on and so forth. If we get to plan Z and there's still no result? I was wrong, there is a god, it's fucking Armageddon and I'm about to be walking through hot shit with Christopher Hitchens for all eternity.

With a solid plan, I don't fail. I'm methodical, and I'm patient when something is interesting to me. Even if the progress toward a goal is minuscule. I am relentless. This spring is going to be made of awesome. I can't wait to rule the shit out of my fitness. 

I'm also organizing my non-fitness hobby. My yarns. Holy shit my stash is crazy out of control. I don't even know what's in there. But I will. I spent 2 hours today beginning the sorting and cataloging process. 

Barely controlled chaos.

As of right now all my tools are sorted, my needles are identified and stored, and all my random notions and finishing supplies are bagged and binned. Relentless forward progress.  Once I'm finished with this project I can get down to the business of planning my projects for the year. 

Plans, plans, and more plans, motherfuckers. It's how the world goes 'round. What's my plan for the rest of today? Mittens and tea, because I am interesting. 

Tomorrow is training plan Day One:  3 miles at 10:30min/mile, 10am yoga at Jenstar with Laurel, and 11:30 WOD at CFGB. Then an afternoon full of fuck all, because while I love to plan activities? I also love to plan huge swaths of downtime. Solitude is good for my soul, and this new pair of Cold as Fuck mittens ain't gonna knit itself. 

That second ball isn't grey, it's a gradient.

Are you a planner, or more fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants? Does my plan make you want to punch me?

I Am Crazy Boring

Went to bed early last night, because that's what I do, and this morning I ended up downstairs drinking coffee at 0530. Why? I couldn't breathe out of the left side of my nose.

Yep. That's the only reason. Not to be productive, not to get a jump on the day...I just wanted to sit up so I could inhale.

We got the kids up early today so they could dick around at breakfast for 45 minutes and we could still make the 8:15 WOD at CFGB. Fantastic husband invited a friend (and she came! Yay!) and we did a perfectly hideous partner WOD that consisted of 500 wall balls alternating with planks and a little burpee interlude every 2 minutes. We ended up with 300 WB at the time cap. Which was fine. I was kind of done with balls.

Planks, though? I could do that shit forrreeevvvveerrrrr. 

Before the workout I ate a meal. Because that's what I do now. Eat meals. Like a goddamn grown-up.

Looks familiar, yeah?

So we went and flogged ourselves for an hour, and then I went to yoga. So much lungy-twisty. Jaysus, my legs are shot. I also have another unexplained bruise on my left quadriceps. Honestly, if I hadn't already been evaluated for every blood disorder that exists I might be worried there was something wrong with me. 

I forgot to bring a snack with me to CF to eat after the WOD, and I wasn't going to make another hour of workout without food, so I bought an energy bar at the box.  It's called "The Best Bar Ever" and touts itself as a whole food bar. It has sugar sweetened dried fruit in it. And sucralose. Hmmm.

Liar. Whatchamacallit is way better.

I mean, it was good...I guess? It was really, really sweet and I could totally taste the sucralose. It tastes metallic to me. Same reason I can't hack Progenex products. The sucralose. Why is that shit in everything? Stupid sucralose, ruining my life (it also gives me gas, so that's fun). Also this thing is 300 calories packed into a not-very-large package. I don't count calories, but I was kind of shocked when I looked at the nutrition facts. I really wish I hadn't forgotten my apple.  Oh, and they're $4 a bar. Damn. 

I wore pigtails. And skulls. I had to go to Walgreens after yoga, so I walked in there with pigtails and skulls and my frankly too tight workout pants. I was a touch self-conscious...then I thought fuck it. I know I'm not the weirdest thing these poor bastards have ever seen. I used to work retail. My look was tame as hell.

Because whimsy.

Once I was home I made myself some lunch.

Eating meals LIKE A BOSS.

Then I made some maple-vanilla pecans. I am amazing at handling nuts. Ask anyone.

NOM.

This afternoon I did pretty much fuck all. I played Words With Friends and gave myself a manicure.

My winter hands are so ugly.

Tonight we are going out for dinner and then taking the smalls to a hockey game. I can't wait to listen to them whine about snacks (in spite of just eating dinner) for 2 hours.  I can't wait to spend some magnificent quality time making memories.

But since I have no idea what time we'll get home and chances are I'll want to go straight to bed, you get this fascinating missive a little early. Lucky, lucky you.

Now. To Team WOD or not to Team WOD tomorrow?  I heard a rumor there will be charades.