Defying the Laws of Physics

My celebrity crush, Neil deGrasse Tyson, was on The Nightly Show Wednesday night. He was refuting a rapper's assertion that the Earth is flat. It was epic. I would be totally fine with NdGT showing up at my house to talk science to me with his biceps and his swag. I could give a shit that he's 57 years old. Dude has game. 

Mic. Drop.

Maybe he'd be able to explain my results from the last two weeks, because I am in (happy, ecstatic) disbelief.

Today was my first follow up with Kirk the Nutrition Guy. The pre-appointment stuff is the same, as we'll do a BIA (bioimpedence analysis) at every visit. No exercise for 12 hours prior. Fasting for 4 hours. No caffeine on day of appointment. No alcohol for 24 hours prior.

Basically I showed up hungry and uncaffeinated. I'm not so pretty in that state. I was wearing leggings as pants, however.

SIZE 8, BITCHES.

I did stop on the way for a large dark roast. I couldn't drink it until after the BIA, but that just meant it was the perfect drinking temp. Nutrition Guy laughed at me. By the time we were all finished with the metrics I was thinking lustful thoughts about this coffee.

My precioussssss.

So how did I do? Well, my weight was essentially the same (up 0.4lbs), and my measurements were basically the same. Even after spending 2 weeks eating damn near twice what I normally do, no change in weight. My BMI was slightly higher as a result of the slightly higher weight. These two things should now prove to you that BMI and weight are stupid numbers that don't tell you anything like the whole story.

Here's the exciting bit. My total body water was up, a good thing as it means my hydration status is better. The balance from extracellular to intracellular is shifting, and that's good. Extracellular water is what makes you feel puffy, intracellular is what makes your cells work at peak efficiency. Nutrition Guy says as this process completes and my body starts to operate at peak hydration, my measurements will change.  More exciting? My body fat percentage dropped by 2%. TWO PERCENT in TWO WEEKS. Partially because I am a higher percentage water and partially because I also GAINED 1.3 POUNDS OF MUSCLE. In TWO WEEKS!  Holy. Shit. This is proof positive that I was previously underfed. My poor little muscles just glommed on to all these new calories and went fucking bonkers on them. So in spite of the scale changing NOT AT ALL, my body composition changed dramatically...in just two fucking weeks of solid, consistent nutrition. 

The diet industry lies. It is absolutely not all about slashing calories. Nutrition Guy asked how I felt about my weight, and I reiterated that I don't give a fuck about the number on the scale. I was so happy with my numbers today. I told him about the food baby issue and feeling like I was force feeding myself, and that I felt like it was resolving slowly. I'm given to understand that this response is normal. I stuck to my servings and my food list (sounds funny to say that, it's the same shit I always ate except now I don't eat bananas) 95% of the time and the results were so phenomenal that my motivation is extremely high to continue. I also really want to lift all the things. Because in conjunction with all this food, that shit is working. 

We spent some time discussing the timing of meals in relationship to workouts, and it turns out that I've been doing the preparatory eating like a boss but sort of neglecting the recovery eating. That will be my focus during this next time frame.

My next appointment is in 2 weeks. All my workouts are planned, and I'm ready to kick ass and take names. The scale and the BMI chart can go fuck themselves. I am on fire. 

By the time I got home I was ravenous. So I made some brunch. 

Eggs with veg, toast with sunbutter, and berries.

I ate it all and it wasn't hard. Hooray for progress. I did a little reading and then headed out for hot yoga, which was bloody perfect on this cold day. My legs are still fucked from 200 wallballs a few days ago, and I realized that when I miss a few yoga days my balance goes all to shit. Stupid vomiting sickness making me miss 3 days in the studio. I've got all my classes scheduled through February, though. On task and moving forward.

After yoga I went over to Dick's to look for some gloves. I always manage to tear my damn hands open at the box. Either doing pull-ups or snatching. And when I snatch I tear the webbing of my thumb and it hurts like a bitch. So I'm going to give these a try for high rep workouts. Wish me luck.

Please. Save my hands.

Once I made it home I had a snack. Bad thing about not starting to eat until 11am is the rest of the day gets sort of compressed. So much to eat! So little time! Then I did some weighted hip thrusts at 125# and some shoulder work to failure. It was...ouchy.

I didn't eat all this hummus, just about 1/4c of it.

I retrieved the spawn from school and got everyone home in record time. My plan was to take them out for supper. Mostly because I didn't feel like doing any more goddamn dishes. I ran the dishwasher 3 times yesterday, packed full. I already did one cycle today and the thought of unloading and reloading it again made me homicidal, so I decided to take the easy way out.

Going out means bathing and dressing in people clothes. Bummer. My stupid hair has officially reached "fuck it" length.  This is my "fuck it" clip.

It's small. I have thin hair.

This is my "fuck it" hair. It's pretty much how I looked 90% of my college career. 

Photographed in front of my "fuck it" bed and my "fuck it" nightstand.

So I loaded up the kids and took them to Mackinaw's. Which was packed to the rafters at quarter to fucking 5. We waited for 20 minutes for a table, and right as we ordered I realized that Golrusk, where the dogger was at Fun Camp, closes at 6pm on Fridays. Fuuuuuuuuccccckkkk. We got very lucky with our server, who was totally cool when I panicked in her face about being on a timetable. Food came out super fast, kids ate on a mission, she rang us up immediately, and we were out the door at 5:40. I tipped her handsomely as I remember waiting tables and if you go above and beyond, I will make sure you know I appreciate it.  We made it to Golrusk with about 8 minutes to spare. Whew.

The boys had a field trip today. They told me about it in animated fashion while we waited for dinner.

It was a puppet show. They demo-ed it for me.

Oh, here's what I had for dinner. Bison burger, sweet potato fries (I ate half of them), and veg. Always veg. Veg and veg and more veg.

Consumed in record time.

After my evening snack I will have gotten all my boxes today except one legume. Minor.  

Ch-ch-ch-chia!

I'm really excited to see what the next 2 weeks brings. The fact that I have these little check-ups is very motivating. Also motivating is the repeat lab work at the end of all this. I love that shit. I've always thought of myself as an experiment of one, and I so enjoy seeing the things I do daily reflected in hard data. 

Tomorrow I'll be hitting up the community WOD and probably getting a few miles on the treader. Fantastic husband is still conferencing, so I won't have the opportunity to get outside. February is more base building with a few pace workouts thrown in on my weekend long runs. I'll be shifting into the 6-9 mile zone for my daily runs, with another time trial in a couple of weeks. Weirdly, my during-the-week runs will be at an 11min/mile pace. I've spent such a long time shifting out of that zone, it feels counterintuitive to slow down. But it also felt counterintuitive to eat everything that's not nailed down, and that turned out pretty fucking great. 

Trust the process. It's my fucking mantra. 

Two Weeks

Two weeks. That's how long I've been at this now. It's gotten a little easier. Still not easy most days, but it's not as uncomfortable as it was initially. And praise cheeses for that little blessing, because if I still felt the way I did 5 days ago? Yeah. I'd be preparing to start an epic slap fight with Kirk the nutrition guy. If I could have caught him, and considering I was a barge it probably wouldn't have worked out.

Fantastic husband is at a conference through Saturday and he left early this morning, so I'm flying solo with the spawn. Not long after he left this morning, C wandered down the hall and crawled into bed with me. I was laying on my side and he scooted up behind me and threw his arm and leg over me. It was cute as hell. Until he sneezed into my hair. Less cute.  A short while later P also found his way into my bed. I just heard a tiny voice say "Mommy? Can I cuddle with you, too?", and he crawled up on the other side. So instead of starting my morning with 60 minutes of bitching, I got to start it with 20 minutes of perfectly adorable...followed by 60 minutes of bitching. I'll take it.

I made breakfast, made lunches, and scuttled everyone out the door. Then I came home and made myself breakfast and organized my day. I was out of mushrooms, which is tragic, and had more than a handful of spinach left that was about to go over. So I said fuck it and just cooked all the remaining spinach with my eggs. Also sweet potato and berries. And coffee. Always coffee. I told nutrition guy that I'd limit myself to 2 cups per day, and I've been doing pretty well with that. The only time I deviated was when I was up for 30 hours. Now that I think about it, it still may have only been 2 cups in a 24 hour period.

I'm like motherfucking Popeye up in here.

Today's WOD was high(ish) burpee box jumps, muscle ups (which I can't do and have no desire to do so I do progressions), and a heavy clean and jerk.  Heavy is relative, of course, but I loaded up 95# which seemed safe. One of the coaches told me to up it by five for an even hundred "because it's cooler". So I said I'd give it a go. It actually went okay. I didn't shin myself and I had a couple of really good lifts. We also did some hollow rocks/superman holds and I worked on my handstand for a bit. I actually hit it pretty well a couple of times. I'm proud of myself. 

Unrelated except that I wore the shirt to CF yesterday-fantastic husband got me this shirt. It's super comfy and I think it's funny. He apparently showed this picture to a co-worker who didn't believe that I was his wife. Not sure what that means, but the story amused me. 

My arms look massive. They're really not that big, I swear.

I ran a bunch of adulty errands, including going to Costco for the eightieth time this month. You know what you have to buy when you eat a lot of food? A LOT OF FUCKING FOOD. I swear I've eaten about 100 peppers and 50 pounds of broccoli over the last 2 weeks. Also like $200 worth of out of season fruit. Oh well. It's all for the best. Why get paid a lot if you're not going to live well?

After I unloaded everything I made myself some lunch.

Chicken, chickpeas, and cucumber. Basic.

Then I did a little prep work for some schmancy Paleo baking. Then I picked up the kids from school and did the whole snack-homework-dinner prep dance.  I had a snack. Ezekiel toast with sunbutter and coffee with heavy cream.

That's right. Heavy cream. Gotta get all my calories, bitches.

Then shortly thereafter I had another snack. 

Get off me. You know how many boxes I gotta check?

A lot.

When we got home from school, my Paleo Samoas were on the oven cooling and waiting for their chocolate coating. Every single child, in succession, completely ignoring the answer I gave the previous child "Wow, those smell good! Who are they for?".  The answer I gave each child? "Not for you!" It's not that I'm averse to giving my children cookies, or that I don't want to share. It's that none of them will eat coconut, and I was damned if I was going to give them a (time consuming! expensive!) cookie only for them to nibble it and decide that they don't like coconut and/or dark chocolate. Invariably they've ruined whatever they're eating in the process of deciding they hate it, and since this recipe only makes 12-18 cookies (I got 18)? I'm not taking that chance.

Gods, these are incredible. Coconut cookie, caramel, toasted coconut, and chocolate. Sexy. I only ate 1, but one makes a lonely picture.

Samoas are the sluttiest cookie. #fact

I made dinner. If you're gonna be basic, be really basic. I totally had to force feed myself this dinner. I said it was getting easiER. Still working on it.

Chicken twice in a day. Ugh.

Later I will finish checking boxes with my standard yogurt-berries-and-chia-seeds.

Stock photo.

I got an odd letter the other day. It was from my Grandma's neighbor. Apparently she found some old pictures of me and thought I might like to have them.  It's throwback Thursday, so what the hell. July 1982, shortly before my 5th birthday (that's right, I was born in the 70s. Laugh it up, assholes). I think my aunt might have made this dress. Wasn't I an adorable child?

This is P's face. It's uncanny.

In other random "who cares" news: I sized down in Lululemon today. I ordered 3 pairs of pants, size 8, and not only do they fit but in one style I think I might need a 6.

Fuck me, I'm in single digits.

You know those crazy weight loss stories where the before photo is some chick who weighs like 400 pounds (or on TBL or whatever) and they show you the after picture and every goddamn one of them is all "OH EM GEE, now I'm a SIZE SIX!" and you think to yourself "Ain't no bloody way in fucking hell that bitch is a six."  No? Just me? Anyway, I find myself figuring that she must own like ONE THING that is a size 6, so she just tells everyone that that's the size she wears. It's not exactly a lie.

Well I have FOUR things in a size 8 (I also got a running dress) that fit. Therefore I am a size 8. And tomorrow I'm gonna wear the shit out of some size 8 leggings as PANTS. Because leggings are totally pants. 

Nevermind my favorite jeans are a 12. Details, details.

Trusting the Process

I will trust the process. I will trust the process. I will trust the process. I will trust the process. I will trust the process. I WILL TRUST THE PROCESS I WILL TRUST THE PROCESS.

Struggle bus, ticket for one to self-pity-town, please.

Fantastic husband was at work today, so he was up early and out the door. I woke up the spawn and spent 15 minutes convincing C that he could in fact wear size 6 pants even though he is only 5 years old. He then spent the remainder of the morning complaining about said pants. Sigh.

I made myself a bowl of oatmeal and decided I didn't want to eat it. Most mornings I wake up hungry, but not so much today. I decided that I just needed to szhuszh up my breakfast to get my tastebuds excited. So I took my cooked oatmeal, mixed in an egg, a little cinnamon, vanilla, and stevia, 1/4tsp of baking powder and made oatmeal pancakes. Shockingly this worked. Fuck me, I'm a cook.

Instead of maple syrup or honey (neither of which I'm currently allowed) I smeared on some Sunbutter and dropped a handful of berries on top for color.

Voila.

The smelled great cooking, like pan cookies. And they tasted good, decent texture. I might soak the oats overnight in some almond milk next time vs. cooking in water, but I can't complain for an extemporaneous recipe. I still wasn't too excited about eating them. What's wrong with me? 

Instead of Barre class today I went to the box. It was a lunges/DL/squats workout and I need to do lunges. My left leg was a weak-ass bitch and I had to drop from 75# to 65# after the first round when I couldn't get up off the floor on that side. One of these days I'll actually work on that side. But I probably won't. After the workout I worked on handstands for a while. I actually hit one for real pretty early on. I did a few kicking up yoga style into "L" legs as well. It's coming along. 

I took a convenience snack to the gym. First time I've eaten any kind of "bar" on this deal. I'm supposed to avoid dried fruit. 

The dog wants the cheese.

When I got home I figured I'd make my lunch and then try to nap as I'm back to work tonight. I wasn't feeling terribly ambitious so I just tossed a bunch of stuff in a pan and called it good. Mushrooms, peppers, red onion, spinach, sausage, eggs, and black olives. 

So much goddamn food.

I tried to sleep, but mostly ended up reading. I maybe got an hour's nap, which doesn't bode terribly well for tonight...especially since I'm supposed to be cutting down my coffee consumption. I do have to eat like 3 times during my shift, so maybe that will keep me awake. Here's hoping for a nice steady night. 

After my failed nap I got up and had a snack. Of course.

Carrots and hummus.

I read some more and finished a mitten, then took a nice long shower. Since I have to work I tried to look like a competent adult.  My hair sucks and I want it to magically grow another 4-6 inches ASAP or alternately disappear and change color. I've never been able to style my own hair. Right now it's too short for a bun (not that I know how to make one) and just long enough to get stuck inside my damn collar constantly. If I wear a ponytail all the time it breaks off. I'd braid it, but it's not long enough for a regular braid and I can't French braid my own hair. Never could. I'm 38 years old and I can't do hair. There has to be some kind of remedial class I could take. Maybe I need to find an 8 year old to teach me. Not my 8 year old, she can't even figure out how to drag a comb through the back of her hair. (Not to brag, but I've got that on lockdown). 

Stupid fucking hair.

After retrieving the smalls from daycare, I put together some leftover pizza piles for supper. They looooooove this. So easy, just noodles as a base (I used spaghetti squash for myself), a little pizza sauce, pizza toppings, cheese, etc. They gobble it up.

This is like 2 cups of veg disguised as pizza.

Post-supper is homework time, and miraculously everyone finished before 6:30. Now they watch cartoons and I fold laundry. It's a high speed life I lead. First I have to eat this. No chia seeds tonight. I blew my nuts and seeds wad (see what I did there) with the pancakes and Larabar earlier. I don't want to eat it.

Blah.

So after a week of eating this way, checking all the boxes, how do I feel?  I'll tell you. I feel crappy. I feel wide and fat and sluggish and slow. I feel tired and bloated and uncomfortable. I eat and I feel full to the point of illness 80% of the time. I'm not hungry the next time I'm supposed to eat. I eat anyway because I said I would and then I feel full and uncomfortable again. I don't want to work out because I feel so full and uncomfortable and all my clothes feel tight in the waist. I need to do my postponed time trial sometime in the next 3 days and I'm terrified I won't be able to move as fast as I need to without getting a terrible side stitch of barfing my guts up all over Bay Settlement Rd. Every time I feel like maybe I'm turning a corner, I have to eat again and go right back to feeling cruddy. In the back of my mind the little voice that hates me whispers "you're going to get soooo faaaaat. fatty fat fat. see how your pants already don't fit? faaaat fat fat. slow and fat, that's you, fatty." It's getting louder every day I feel this way. Academically I know that's stupid, but it's still there.

Eating good food is supposed to make you feel good, right? Energetic? Well, I don't. None of this stuff is new. It's all stuff I ate before (well, not the legumes...at least not every day), I'm just eating it in much larger quantities. It's not like my digestive system should be surprised by anything I'm putting in it. So why do I feel this way? I have another week before I see the nutritionist again, and I'm going to stick to the program and trust the motherfucking process. 

This has to get easier, right? At some point I'm going to want all this food? I'll feel bouncy again and not like I just want to sleep all the time? What am I going to do next week if the nutritionist tells me to eat even more?

Wow. That sounds really whiny. I'm even annoying myself. Sorry. 

I'll just going to go stuff myself full of yogurt and berries and shut up now...

Checkin' Boxes, Makin' Gains

I woke up this morning feeling pretty damn great. I slept a ton yesterday (thanks, Percocet!) and woke up feeling refreshed and ready to "resume normal activities". The boy children were already awake and involved in some kind of game in their room, the girl child was still zonked out as usual.

Fantastic husband started the morning with romance. "Do you want to make breakfast, or lunches?" he whispered in my ear. Lunches. Duh. Lunches don't involve any actual cooking, just assembly line style construction. Easy peasy. He made eggs for the hungry vultures and they ate them with minimal complaint. Aside from C whining "You know, I found out that I really don't like butter on my toast...". There's always something.

I opted to have my grain serving for breakfast. Oats and blueberries and almonds.

It ain't muffins, that's for damn sure.

Then fantastic husband was off to training and the kids were off to school. I had an hour to read my book and drink coffee, then it was making a snack and hauling the dogger to Fun Camp for the day.  I sliced up a red pepper and grabbed a couple of cheese sticks and a FitAID and hopped in the car.  Surprisingly, I was actually hungry for my snack this morning. Huzzah!

Cupholder-slash-snack-dispenser.

I'd take bets that I was the only person eating red pepper strips on the highway at 9am. Just a hunch. 

The WOD today was "Jackie" and involves rowing, thrusters, and pull-ups. I actually rowed pretty well today, and the thrusters were as okay as thrusters can be...they're light in this workout at only 45#. There's 50 of them, but they're light. Pull-ups took 2 red bands today, and I was doing singles at the end on fried shoulders. I stayed after for some jerk practice, GHDs, and handstand practice. I got a few freestanding, which was a good feeling. I was there long enough to say Hi-and-Bye to fantastic husband, then headed home to make myself a gigantic lunch. Eating more mid-day worked out great today.  Double salmon, a whole sweet potato, and a cup of snap peas. I was really full afterwards, but I didn't feel ill.

NOM.

My training plan called for 3 miles at 10:30 today. By rights I should've run outside as the weather was favorable, but there were two negatives to that.  1. I would've had to change my clothes. 2. One of the after effects of ablation is frequent urination.  I didn't want to get 1.5 miles from home and have to pee, so I made use of Torvald the Treader and watched last night's episode of The Daily Show. Trevor Noah makes 3 miles fly by with his dimpled self.

So pretty.

Life ticked endlessly forward...the smalls came home from school, then had a snack. So did I. Spicy avocado hummus from Costco and another pepper. This hummus was really good, for all it's a shitty color.

Seriously, like baby poo.

Fantastic husband took the spawn to the box for CF Kids. They were total assholes by report. Figures. Oh well, the coach today has a newborn at home...this was like a shitty look into the future. We like to keep it real. While they did that I visited a friend in the hospital and shot the breeze for a bit before picking up the animal at daycare.  She was psychotic as always, but seems pretty tired now.

How is this comfortable?

Since I ate all my required vegetable servings but missed a legume, I had a black bean cheddar burger for supper. I'm allowed as much veg as I can hold, but I wasn't all that hungry at supper time and I was a little pressed for time. Not really in the mood to force feed myself broccoli.

Tasty.

After dinner I hustled down to DePere for hot yoga. I mean, they said I could resume normal activities. Parking is always a bitch on Wednesday nights, so I hustled in under the wire and was lucky to squeeze into the back corner (thanks, Liz!). I don't know what was up today, but I was sweating bullets. Way more than usual. I like Wednesday night yoga. It's the perfect mid-week pick-me-up (or slow-me-down) depending on the week. 

Still had a couple of boxes to check when I got home, so I made myself a snack. Blackberries, greek yogurt, and chia seeds.

Dessert.

So this fantastic food journey for the last week or so has left me constantly gestating a food baby. For real. I feel like I'm 5 months pregnant with...I don't know...like a watermelon or something. Observe.

Food. Baby.

It's seriously getting on my nerves. I feel as though my food baby needs a name. Lars? Holden? I feel like the food baby is definitely a boy. On the plus side, if I actually were pregnant I'd be looking super cute.  But I'm not pregnant. I'll never be pregnant again (see previous sterilization and recent uterus burning). 

Tomorrow it's back to the salt mine for a 6 day stretch. We'll see how the feeding goes when it's on a 24 hour clock. I'm optimistic. 

Now back to my regular scheduled force feeding.

Drugs R Good, m'kay?

Today was procedure day. The Mirena met it's maker (PS Mirena sits on a throne of lies) and I got to see the inside of my uterus for the second time in my life.

The kids got up craaaazy early for some reason, so I made them some French toast and blueberries. I was instructed to have a "light breakfast".

Ummm...check?

Fantastic husband walked the kids to school and I enjoyed a second cup of coffee while procrastinating getting in the shower.  I did eventually wash myself. I even shaved my legs and put on make-up. I think most women do this before they go to the gynecologist. It seems mean to not make an effort.

My Gyn in Des Moines looked exactly like David Duchovny. That was disconcerting.

I took my pre-meds on the way to the office.

Benzos and narcs, oh my!

By the time I was standing in line waiting to check in I was feeling...odd. By the time I was sitting in the exam room answering a million questions about my health history and having my vitals taken I felt like I was 2 glasses of wine into a bender. BP 106/60, HR 52. Then I get "are you okay?" and I have to say "Yeah, it's cool, I work out a lot."  The LPN (who looks exactly like my MIL) actually offered me a wheelchair to the procedure room. Please. I've been waaaaaaay drunker than that.

The procedure itself only takes about 90 seconds, but you get a nerve block before they begin and a series of biopsies as a matter of course. I didn't feel any of the injections of anesthetic, so winning there. Then they put the camera in and take some measurements. The inside of a uterus is pretty cool looking. Next comes the burning. Takes just under 2 minutes and felt like...not much really. I might be the wrong person to ask about pain level since I've suffered crippling menstrual cramps my whole life. On a scale of 0-10? This was a zero. Of course, I was pretty doped up. I spent the whole time yakking about yoga and books to one of the nurses in the room.

Afterwards you get another peek into the scorched wasteland that is a post-ablation uterus. I felt a sick satisfaction at it's demise. Then you hang out and have your vitals done a couple times and it's out the door. HR post-procedure? 41. My cardiovascular fitness is on point. 

Fantastic husband drove me to and from today so I wouldn't fall asleep at the wheel. We went to Anduzzi's for some lunch. I had a beer. For science.

Thumbs up.

Also a chicken pesto flatbread. It was tasty and I was actually hungry! Because I ate breakfast at 0600 and didn't have a snack unless you count the handful of pills I had before going to the clinic. I wonder which checkbox that goes under...

This was good. 

I also got a mini concrete mixer from Culver's. Because uterus. I took a picture of it, but damned if I know where it is. I blame the Percocet.

When we got home I burrowed into bed with my hot pad and read for a bit. Then slept for 3 hours. I am what would be called "opiod naive" in that aside from a couple of Vicodin 5 years ago I've never ingested a controlled substance. It shows. Hell of a good nap, though.

I did eat an afternoon snack and check a few more boxes. Greek yogurt, raspberries, and chia seeds. Since it had been 4 hours since my last meal I didn't mind eating it. I wasn't exactly hungry, but I didn't exactly have to force feed myself either. 

It ain't ice cream.

Tonight fantastic husband made "Pizza Piles". Spaghetti squash topped with pizza sauce and whatever pizza related accoutrements you like and mozzarella cheese. I ate a small portion (didn't want to push it) and it was pretty good. The spawn loooooved it.

I liked it, too.

I still have some unchecked boxes, but I'm going to leave them. If I'm hungry later I may have a small snack, but I'm not going to stress about it. Tomorrow, uterus willing, I'll go for a short run and do some yoga in the evening. I'll make sure to get all the boxes checked going forward. It'll be interesting to see how this translates to the overnight of it all. For some reason I think it might be easier, since there are more hours in the day when I'm on nights. Off weeks I get 8-10 hours of sleep a night. On weeks it's more like 6. More time for eating.

And now we wait. The Gyn says there's a 90% chance this will utterly eliminate my problem. After the Mirena debacle, I'm dubious but hopeful. One of the RNs was joking that she wished there were a uterus donation program so that when you were done with yours you could pass it on to a woman who could use it. I am completely on board with that. Someone make it happen. 

This Percocet is good shit. I'm going to quit typing while I'm still coherent. 

I Miss Being Hungry

That's a weird fucking statement, isn't it? I miss being hungry. But I do. My father used to say "Hunger is the best sauce". Granted, that was mostly when we were being assholes about what my mother served us (have I mentioned she was a terrible cook?). I say it to my own kids. It's really true, though. There's nothing like smelling what's cooking for dinner and feeling that little rumble, anticipating the first bite, and thoroughly enjoying a satisfying meal.

Aside from immediately upon waking, I haven't felt hungry in four days. I don't like it. Man, that looks stupid in print. But it's so true. I don't anticipate my meals. They are prepped, boxes checked, I sit down to eat mindfully as I've been trained by numerous diets...and I feel nothing. Well, maybe dread. I keep telling myself it's going to taste so good (because everything I've eaten is perfectly tasty food), but I end up just sort of mechanically eating it and washing it down. Just getting through it.

This must resolve. I'm not eating an abnormal amount of food. You know that "percent daily calories" calculation on the back of every damned packaged food? It's based on a 2,000 calorie diet, which is approximately what I'm eating. So...normal, right? Granted, I'm not eating packaged food. So here's what I more or less force fed myself today.

Breakfast was coffee (still keeping to 2 cups) with a little almond milk, the omnipresent cup of water, and oats with a diced apple and some chopped pecans.  In the morning I'm hungry, and this was delicious. Comforting on this very cold morning. Oh, I should mention that I've been getting up and eating breakfast earlier hoping to spread my meals out more during the day...chasing hunger.

Mmm, mmm...good.

The spawn were off school today. Apparently Green Bay is the only local school that observes Martin Luther King Jr's birthday? That seems massively fucked up, but whatever. I took them to daycare for a half day so I could get my workouts in. They had cereal by request. We let them eat shitty cereal. They mostly get hot breakfast but once a week or so we break out the sugar laden chemical bullshit, because childhood.  This morning it was Cap'n Crunch with marshmallows in it. Nutrition-y. Ordinarily I kind of want some (because as you know, I am a hopeless sugar addict). Having already crammed myself full of oats, apple, and nuts and staring down a mid-morning snack? Yeah. Not at all appealing. Not even a little bit.

I dropped them off and came back home to eat. Because it's like my job now.

Carrots and hummus.

Knocked out a legume and two, count 'em TWO starchy veggie servings. Fuck yeah. Win the checklist. Then I headed out for some hot core focused yoga. It was a tough one today. I did a fuckton of situps over the last few days so my core was already a little sore and it was fairly screaming by the end of this session. My side plank game is improving. I can hold that shit rock solid for daaaaayyyyyys. With leg lifts. Woot.

I made my lunch earlier and I brought it along figuring maybe I could cram a little bit into my face before meeting my friend Kim for a workout after yoga. It ended up filling this 5 cup container. FIVE CUPS OF FOOD. That's a lot of fucking food. I deliberately stacked the middle of the day hoping to save myself feeling like I'm going to split in half before bedtime.

Same as a few days ago but add cucumber, 

HBE, and mustard.

I did eat some of it. I went to Xperience Fitness for the first time today and got a day pass so I could work out with my small and mighty friend. Standing next to her makes me feel like a fucking T.Rex. She's strong as fuck, but itty bitty. The last time I was itty bitty was...birth. Pretty much a goddamn giraffe with a tendency towards rhinoceros since then. We ran on the treadmill and gabbed for a while, then went to the weights room for chest and back. I benched for reps for the first time in ages (70# I think? I don't know, I was doing what I was told), we did some lat pull-downs, inclined chest press, that kind of thing. Then for funsies we did multiple sets of push-ups to failure. She's a fun workout buddy. I also got some shoulder hypertrophy exercises to do at home. I need bigger shoulders for...reasons? Mostly just because why the hell not?

#filters and #morefilters also #lats

The state of the plates in that place would've given Justin a stroke. Pandemonium. 

After our little bro-sesh I went to Costco because I need to eat all the food and that means I deplete the fridge quickly. It was really cold, but at least it wasn't fucking raining. It's always fucking raining when I go to Costco.

The "no guilt" cart, per the cashier.

After that I picked up the spawn and headed home to force feed myself the remainder of my lunch.  The smalls had a snack and spent about 45 minutes bouncing off the ceiling keening "When is it time to go to CrossFit Kiiidddddssssss?" because it's the Arctic Apocalypse outside and they spent all day cooped up. P drew two "honorary police badges" for the coaches and was all excited about bringing them in. It was cute. The have their moments.

I packed up my book and MOAR FOODZ to bring along. Blueberries, raspberries, blackberries, 6oz of greek yogurt with stevia, and chia seeds. This knocked out my remaining 2 fruit servings and my second "nuts and seeds" serving along with 1 protein.  I should've wanted to eat this. What about this isn't delicious?

I force fed myself.

I considered doing today's WOD, but 100 burpees to target after 3 hours of exercise? Fuck that. Plus burpees to target make me feel like I'm going to ralph about 40-50 in. I'm so damn full I probably would've vomited all over the place.

Would I have to re-eat all the servings I lost? Perish the thought.

I made burritos from the leftover Carne Asada for the smalls along with some broccoli and mango on the side. Their kiddie WOD must've worked some magic because they all devoured their dinners without a single complaint. It's a mid-winter miracle!

My plate had a scant 3oz of Kalua pork and 2 servings of broccoli.

I had a few bites before i remembered the picture.

Technically I need to eat one more serving of veggies tonight and one dairy. I don't know. Maybe in a couple of hours that will sound more appealing. I had hoped that spending so much time in activity today would rev up my hunger mechanism, but it didn't. Not even a little bit. I'm somewhat surprised by that. Historically running causes me a sort of delayed hunger reaction. I have no appetite immediately afterwards, but several hours later I am ravenous. I've run 3 times since starting this (out of 4 days) and nada. No time for hunger, I guess.

I am assured by many that soon I will adjust to this and I'll start to feel hungry at the appropriate times. That must be true. It makes sense. Shit, I really hope it's true.

Tomorrow will be a forced rest day (I think, if I feel okay I might go to yoga later in the evening...if I'm not to doped up on Percs to drive) due to my scheduled uterus burning. That reminds me, I forgot to take my fucking Celebrex. It's a good thing I'm not retail anymore, I'm shit at compliance and I always felt guilty being all "You need to take this every day!!" when I couldn't remember to take a bloody prenatal vitamin more than twice a week. It's entirely possible I won't get anywhere near my food target tomorrow, but I get a pass because uterus things. 

Obs should be "injustice" but you get the drift.

With luck and baby dolphins I'll be back to my "normal activities" on Wednesday. I'm not sure my idea of normal activities matches up with the nurse's idea, but I'm going to take that statement at face value. 

Time to dive back into The Expanse. I'll resurface eventually...when I run out of books. 

Eating As Full Time Job, or "Why I Require a Personal Chef"

I waited until 2100 last night to force feed myself my final protein serving. Ordinarily I would've been in bed by then, but I had to stay up for the rollercoaster ride that was the Packers game. It ended sadly for the team, but at least it was a game, and who doesn't love a Hail Mary at the buzzer?

I went to bed feeling full to the point of illness again, but woke up this morning feeling rumbly, which I suppose is a good sign. A couple of cups of coffee and a few chapters of Caliban's War and I was ready to start prepping breakfast. Basically a repeat of Friday since I have all the materials and it's easy to hit my checkboxes. The best part of breakfast the last few days is that I'm actually hungry at the start of it, so it doesn't seem like such a chore. Now, halfway through my plate? Yeah, starts to feel like a job. It's not that it tastes bad or anything, it's just pushing myself past the point of satiety is something I've tried not to do for so long that my brain starts rebelling.

Monstrous breakfast.

Tuesday I am having the lining burned out of my uterus (Finally! Die uterus die!) and that entails some premedication. Quite a bit of it.  I feel like it's overkill, but per the surgery scheduler, my Gyn wants to make absolutely sure there's no discomfort associated with the procedure. Seriously? I crapped out 2 seven pound babies in 4 minutes with no anesthesia. Do your worst. 

Anyway, today I had to start taking Celebrex 400mg twice a day, and will continue to take it for 2 days after the procedure. Over. Kill. Here are my premeds. There is a nice bottle of Percocet in there, which I've never had. Actually this will be my first schedule II medication ever. Unless you count the fentanyl I got epidurally with my daughter. Which I don't. I feel like a virgin all over again. A virgin who is happily going to get her uterus burned up.

Five things. Really.

I gave my guts some time to settle and climbed on the treader for 5 miles. It's 8 below zero. I've run in this before, but for 5 slow weekend miles? No. No need for that. I watched an episode of a hideously inaccurate CW historical drama and covered the readout with a towel so I wouldn't be ticking down the laps. It was find. My plan called for 5 at 10:40/mile and that's exactly what I did. Win.

In shorts even.

Afterwards I treated myself to a FitAID.

45 calories of yum.

I should've had a snack, because eating is my fucking job now, but I can't eat immediately after running and I was still full from breakfast. Also lunch was in the Instant Pot and I didn't want to eat a snack 45 minutes before lunch and then have to force feed myself Kalua Pig. I wanted to enjoy the pig. 

Instant Pot on it's inaugural voyage.

I gotta say, this was good pig. I could've had a double serving since I need to check my protein boxes for today, but we planned on hitting the Team WOD at CF and I didn't want to be full to the point of nausea for the workout. That never goes well.

Pig and legumes. Supafast.

Fantastic husband decided he wanted to come with me to the box, so we loaded up the spawn and headed into the unknown. All we knew was the workout was Dog Show themed. You know, agility courses and all that. We rowed, box-overed, toes-to-barred, balanced PVCs, hopped on one foot through a ladder, did ninja burpees, snatched, hurdle jumped, zig zag sprinted, pulled-up, and scuttled through a makeshift tunnel. For 22 minutes. It was super fun. Tons of people and so much variety that you hardly realized time was ticking down. Then we played Frisbee. I suck at Frisbee.

At the end the winning team was given an award and then Best in Show came to yours truly. Apparently because my shirt matched my shoes. I got a ribbon, which I promptly pinned to my head. Because what else am I gonna do with it?

Best Bitch. Was there ever any doubt?

So there will likely be a picture of me grinning like an idiot with a ribbon pinned to my head on the CF site later. And you know I wore that shit all the way home.

When I got home I made myself the required snack. I want you to picture the sadsack old man in the DD commercials saying "Time to make the donuts" when you think of me making snacks. Snacks are annoying. They are also not donuts. In this case they are carrots and hummus for my second legume and second "starchy veggie" servings today.

It's good hummus, I'll say that.

I spent some more quality time wallowing in my book this afternoon and saying "What?" and "Huh?" to fantastic husband when he tried to talk to me about the football game. I'm an annoying reader in that a book that really gets me involved gets me involved. I go all in and the rest of the world falls completely away. The house could catch fire and I wouldn't notice. Tuning shit out has always been one of my superpowers. I can ignore you until you start to doubt your own existence. 

Tonight we went out for dinner with some friends and their kids. We don't get together often enough. This time we went for pizza at Frank & Pat's (yes, I know it's Cranky Pat's now, but it will always be Frank & Pat's in my heart and the building still says is so nyah). Ordinarily I would eat enough pizza to feel all 'splody, but since I'm already full to bursting from all the other food I crammed into my face? I had this.

Iced tea, no beer.

And now that I'm home, I looked at my checklist and discovered that at some point tonight I need to eat this.

I just can't with the HBE tonight.

It's sitting on the counter taunting me. I don't want to eat it. I will, but I don't want to. Maybe in an hour or so I'll feel less like the skin of my abdomen is going to split.

Tomorrow should be a nice 3-a-day so that I can feel okay about spending Tuesday doped up at the doctor's office. I was told I can return to normal activity on Wednesday, so I'm planning to run a few and hit a yoga class that night. If I'm feeling normal I may CF as well, but that remains to be seen. I could always take a couple of Percocet and make shit interesting.

As long as there aren't any overhead movements. I feel as though Percocet + overheads=concussion.

I want to unbutton my jeans.