This morning I woke up with the Rocky theme song playing in my head. Why you ask? Well, because I made it through an entire week of eating like a caveman. If such a feat doesn't deserve a sound track, well then I don't know what does.
But today I spent most of my day trying to convince myself I wasn't hungry. I don't know what my problem was, I had a normal breakfast: avocado, green juice and a hard boiled egg chaser, some nuts and dried fruit as a snack, bronzino and bok choy for lunch, and a larabar and banana before I went to TRX. But food was LITERALLY the only thing I thought about the entire day.
I figure some days are just going to be like that. Yesterday was a pretty hard day at the gym, so I'm using that as my excuse for my obsessive hunger and cranky attitude today. It's that, or I have a tapeworm.
At the end of week one, I'm 5.5 pounds down from my original starting weight. I've gone to the gym consistently, and most days I went twice a day and did both cardio and weight or PT work. I'm feeling really positive about all of the results: my energy levels are pretty solidly high, my workouts haven't suffered, I've lost some puffiness. So what is up with my monster 'tude?
Hopefully tomorrow will be better. The fact that I can confidently cross off a week of strict, hard core paleo living almost ensures it.
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Wednesday, March 6, 2013
Day 6: Life lessons
6 days on this paleo diet has taught me more than the last three years trying to cut calories and eat healthier. No lie, I'm learning some good lessons.
Last night I finally made it to the grocery store and did a massive shop for a variety of things I can make throughout the week for lunches and dinners, as well as stuff for snacks inbetween. I got home and made dinner (a fried egg, cauliflower puree with sauteed spinach, mushrooms, onions and sausage) and tried my first attempt at paleo-baking. The dinner situation was delicious, the bread situation, not so much.
I figured it's been five days since I've had real bread, a paleo knock off will be a welcome substitute and stand in, right? Wrong. Valuable lesson number one: when it comes to bread, pastries, etc I won't be satisfied unless its the "real" deal which is obviously off the table for now, so for the next 23 days, I shall remain breadless. I'm not saying all paleo bread and baked goods are bad, I'm just saying I'm bad at making them and enjoying them and will therefore be refraining from them all together. And, most surprising of all, I don't really miss grains that much. Except for this, this I want in my stomach and around me at all times.
The second lesson I learned is that my attempts at portion control were stupid. The whole smaller sized portion, more frequent meal situation I was originally attempting was basically reduced to non-stop eating throughout the day, but never to satiety. My constant eating was the human equivalent to chumming the waters--me and Dr. Brody were both just asking for trouble by awakening the beast. But a friend suggested that I up the amount of fat I'm eating to help feel fuller longer, so for the last couple days, breakfast has been a whole avocado, mashed up with some lemon juice, salt and pepper and a green juice. It's a calorie bomb, which I'd have regretted immediately back in the good ol' days of calorie counting.
And this brings me to my third lesson, which I guess is something I knew but didn't really understand until I saw it first hand. I know calorie counting goes against the cornerstones of the paleo program, but I've been doing it anyway, just to get a sense of how differently processed foods are handled by your body.
Back then (which, i know was only 6 days ago) I'd be consuming roughly 1,900-2,100 calories a day, and aiming to burn anywhere between 500-800. So on my best days, I'd be taking in like 1,300 calories a day. To maintain my current weight, I should be netting 1,835 calories a day. So for a week the 500 calorie deficit would lead to a weight loss of one pound (3,500 calories). Not bad.
But with this paleo diet, I'm consuming around 1,500-2,000 calories a day, still aiming to burn between 500-800, and I've lost 4.5 pounds in the last six days. It's proof positive of everything that's said here, and it makes it that much easier to not miss the bread and the pasta.
My next step in this process is to start scaling back on the amount of coffee I'm ingesting, but that's a topic for another day.
Last night I finally made it to the grocery store and did a massive shop for a variety of things I can make throughout the week for lunches and dinners, as well as stuff for snacks inbetween. I got home and made dinner (a fried egg, cauliflower puree with sauteed spinach, mushrooms, onions and sausage) and tried my first attempt at paleo-baking. The dinner situation was delicious, the bread situation, not so much.
I figured it's been five days since I've had real bread, a paleo knock off will be a welcome substitute and stand in, right? Wrong. Valuable lesson number one: when it comes to bread, pastries, etc I won't be satisfied unless its the "real" deal which is obviously off the table for now, so for the next 23 days, I shall remain breadless. I'm not saying all paleo bread and baked goods are bad, I'm just saying I'm bad at making them and enjoying them and will therefore be refraining from them all together. And, most surprising of all, I don't really miss grains that much. Except for this, this I want in my stomach and around me at all times.
The second lesson I learned is that my attempts at portion control were stupid. The whole smaller sized portion, more frequent meal situation I was originally attempting was basically reduced to non-stop eating throughout the day, but never to satiety. My constant eating was the human equivalent to chumming the waters--me and Dr. Brody were both just asking for trouble by awakening the beast. But a friend suggested that I up the amount of fat I'm eating to help feel fuller longer, so for the last couple days, breakfast has been a whole avocado, mashed up with some lemon juice, salt and pepper and a green juice. It's a calorie bomb, which I'd have regretted immediately back in the good ol' days of calorie counting.
And this brings me to my third lesson, which I guess is something I knew but didn't really understand until I saw it first hand. I know calorie counting goes against the cornerstones of the paleo program, but I've been doing it anyway, just to get a sense of how differently processed foods are handled by your body.
Back then (which, i know was only 6 days ago) I'd be consuming roughly 1,900-2,100 calories a day, and aiming to burn anywhere between 500-800. So on my best days, I'd be taking in like 1,300 calories a day. To maintain my current weight, I should be netting 1,835 calories a day. So for a week the 500 calorie deficit would lead to a weight loss of one pound (3,500 calories). Not bad.
But with this paleo diet, I'm consuming around 1,500-2,000 calories a day, still aiming to burn between 500-800, and I've lost 4.5 pounds in the last six days. It's proof positive of everything that's said here, and it makes it that much easier to not miss the bread and the pasta.
My next step in this process is to start scaling back on the amount of coffee I'm ingesting, but that's a topic for another day.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Day 5: First official weigh in...
I kind of jumped into this whole paleo thing pretty quickly. I mean, I understood the basic fundamentals--avoid anything processed, eat what the cavemen ate--and I understood the healthy logic behind it all, but I had no real interest in trying it until I heard about the almost immediate effects it can have on the way you look and feel.
I am on day five of my own personal paleo-palooza, and the scale says I've lost 4 pounds. 4 pounds! I feel like the only person who really understands how happy this makes me is this kid. Results like that make my commitment to paleo as real as the streets.
But the last 120+ hours of my life have become consumed with asking myself one confusing and frustrating question: is this paleo?? You know that scene in Mean Girls when Regina George is trying to understand the ridiculous all-carb diet Cady Haren suggests she try out? Thats basically me before putting anything in my mouth. I pity the fools who have spent any amount of time with me around food in the last few days--you are all saints.
There are a million different websites out there that tell you a million different things. I make no claims to know which ones are best, or which ones are right, but I can give you a couple of my favorite ones thus far.
I am on day five of my own personal paleo-palooza, and the scale says I've lost 4 pounds. 4 pounds! I feel like the only person who really understands how happy this makes me is this kid. Results like that make my commitment to paleo as real as the streets.
But the last 120+ hours of my life have become consumed with asking myself one confusing and frustrating question: is this paleo?? You know that scene in Mean Girls when Regina George is trying to understand the ridiculous all-carb diet Cady Haren suggests she try out? Thats basically me before putting anything in my mouth. I pity the fools who have spent any amount of time with me around food in the last few days--you are all saints.
There are a million different websites out there that tell you a million different things. I make no claims to know which ones are best, or which ones are right, but I can give you a couple of my favorite ones thus far.
- For information on the fundamentals of paleo dieting, this site gives you a dummy breakdown of the top 15 rules to follow. It also goes on to explain why 400 calories of non-paleo food has a completely different effect on your body than 400 calories of paleo food.
- For recipes, I check out Punchfork. While not all of the recipes are strictly paleo, it helps to have a visual aid when deciding what you want to gorge on, caveman style. A friend also recently suggested this site, and every thing looks amazing.
- For a solid paleo shopping list, check out Robb Wolf's plan of attack when at the grocery store. This one is also really helpful, and what I used on my first attempt.
- PaleoHacks is a great message board to ask those paleo questions that keep you up at night.
- For general motivation and fun, NerdFitness.com is pretty good. He also posts workouts, which is nice. They have an app too, which I shelled out the .99 cents for, but don't do it. It's got a lot of bugs in it and their database is pretty small for now.
Obviously, this is just a sampling of the sites I've been obsessively reading and re-reading. Feel free to drop bombs and make it rain in the comments section below with more suggestions!
Monday, March 4, 2013
Day 4: Little Victories
Today's post is going to be brief. Mostly because I went out for lunch today and my inner fat kid (from here on out referred to as my IFK) is pouting, and she's the one in charge of the comedy.
Today was a minor (read: major) victory in my world of paleo-dieting. See, one of the best parts about my job is that I get to eat at some of the greatest restaurants in New York City. It's a luxury that pays off in innumerable ways when you're living in a shoebox with no kitchen space, on a serious budget, and not the greatest participant in the culinary arts. And being able to keep up with the industry big dogs when it comes to both the amount I can consume, and the frequency at which I consume it has been a badge of honor I've worn with fat kid pride. I'd 100% fit in at the table here, and would for sure give Alana a run for her money.
So let's get to paleo victory number one of the day: I went to lunch and I didnt, I repeat, DIDN'T chow down on the rainstorm of fried delicacies that landed on our table. I'm talking onion rings, curly fries, peppadew poppers and bacon and blue cheese hush puppies.
Instead, I ordered five hard boiled eggs and a green juice.
Just kidding. Eggs and I are on a brief hiatus from our love affair, but don't worry, absence only makes the heart grow fonder. No, lunch today consisted of a chopped steak (think fancy hamburger), sans cheese and bun, with avocado, lettuce, tomato and onion. In a previous life (like, less than a week ago) my IFK would have reigned supreme, and I would have tried one of each of the above listed forbidden fruits. But today, I am living in a paleo world, and I am a pa-paleo girl. So I stuck to my chopped steak, which, I must admit, was really delicious and totally satisfying.
Paleo-victory number two is one I will be battling to officially win for a while. You see, it's Girl Scout cookie season, e'rybody. And that diabetes-inducing fairy just rolled into town, no doubt taking a few souls with her. I 100% blame my IFK for the four UNOPENED boxes that are sitting on my desk right now, but in her defense, she ordered them like a month ago, and she had no idea I'd be totally phasing her out. But, much like Dennis Rodman advising El Presidente about how to deal with North Korea, my IFK needs to learn her place, so if you're in the market for some Thin Mints, Samoas or Tagalongs, just let me know. They're all yours.
Oh, and just so I'm fulfilling my original goal here, today's workout consisted of a 20 minute run at a 7:15 pace, followed by some PT work: burpees, lunges, squats, pushups, sit ups, planks. And I'll be hitting spinning tonight.
Today was a minor (read: major) victory in my world of paleo-dieting. See, one of the best parts about my job is that I get to eat at some of the greatest restaurants in New York City. It's a luxury that pays off in innumerable ways when you're living in a shoebox with no kitchen space, on a serious budget, and not the greatest participant in the culinary arts. And being able to keep up with the industry big dogs when it comes to both the amount I can consume, and the frequency at which I consume it has been a badge of honor I've worn with fat kid pride. I'd 100% fit in at the table here, and would for sure give Alana a run for her money.
So let's get to paleo victory number one of the day: I went to lunch and I didnt, I repeat, DIDN'T chow down on the rainstorm of fried delicacies that landed on our table. I'm talking onion rings, curly fries, peppadew poppers and bacon and blue cheese hush puppies.
Instead, I ordered five hard boiled eggs and a green juice.
Just kidding. Eggs and I are on a brief hiatus from our love affair, but don't worry, absence only makes the heart grow fonder. No, lunch today consisted of a chopped steak (think fancy hamburger), sans cheese and bun, with avocado, lettuce, tomato and onion. In a previous life (like, less than a week ago) my IFK would have reigned supreme, and I would have tried one of each of the above listed forbidden fruits. But today, I am living in a paleo world, and I am a pa-paleo girl. So I stuck to my chopped steak, which, I must admit, was really delicious and totally satisfying.
Paleo-victory number two is one I will be battling to officially win for a while. You see, it's Girl Scout cookie season, e'rybody. And that diabetes-inducing fairy just rolled into town, no doubt taking a few souls with her. I 100% blame my IFK for the four UNOPENED boxes that are sitting on my desk right now, but in her defense, she ordered them like a month ago, and she had no idea I'd be totally phasing her out. But, much like Dennis Rodman advising El Presidente about how to deal with North Korea, my IFK needs to learn her place, so if you're in the market for some Thin Mints, Samoas or Tagalongs, just let me know. They're all yours.
Oh, and just so I'm fulfilling my original goal here, today's workout consisted of a 20 minute run at a 7:15 pace, followed by some PT work: burpees, lunges, squats, pushups, sit ups, planks. And I'll be hitting spinning tonight.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Day 3: Cheaters never win..
I cheated. And I'm not gonna lie, I enjoyed it.
On morning number three of my 30 day challenge I woke up and had every intention of logging some big miles today. I haven't really been pushing myself this week, so in order to hit a 40 mile week total, I needed to hammer down 11. No problem, I've done more miles before, and I've done them pretty regularly. So, insert caffeine into blood stream in the form of coffee, put on my running shoes and I was out the door. People always ask me why I do a lot of my running in the gym, and the answer is simple. I'm an incredibly spastic runner. I keep my arms high and tight and my tempo is all over the place because it's usually based on the beat of whatever I'm listening to, which is a total grab bag of terrible top 40s, emo-rock, and dj mash ups. My running, much like my playlists, is never pretty. It's fair to say that on any given run, my style will mimic each and every one of these guys. This morning, I was a total belieber, which meant for most of his most recent gift to the world of ears, I was maintaining about an 8:20 pace, which would have been awesome had I not totally blown it three miles in.
I feel like each one of these posts so far has had a relatively up front confession, so why stop now? As child number three in a family of four, I learned at an early age if you wanted something (like the best seat in the car, the remote control for the tv, the #1 spot in my parents' hearts) you had to give all you had to get what you wanted, which meant you either had to have more initial effort than someone else, or at least more resolve to not give up. Well, it's safe to say this attitude has carried over into preetttty much everything I do in my adult life, so when I found myself falling into stride with a fellow runner as we started cruising up the Queensboro bridge, I stepped on the gas.
I'd like to say my rise to the top was as meteoric as my musical muse's, but....it wasn't. I'd like to say I found wisdom in his words, and would never say never, but....I didn't. Instead I found myself
bonking--hard--400 meters into my sprint and I was left in what I can only assume must have been Carl Lewis' dust. Failure is a bitter pill to swallow but my girl Mary Poppins totally had it right: a spoonful of sugar does help the medicine go down. In my situation, the medicine was the bitch slap I receive c/o my man Carl Lewis on the bridge, and the spoonful of sugar was indeed a spoonful of sugar. That's right ladies and gentlemen, I gu-ed. I gu-ed, and it was good. And while I didn't catch up to the Flash on the bridge, nor did I finish my intended 11 miler, I made it through a solid six.
I have to be honest, I didn't think I was going to report back to you all on my pretty hasty return to the arms of my granular white mistress, but the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. So here I am. My name is Katie, and it's been 8 hours since my last refined carb.
On morning number three of my 30 day challenge I woke up and had every intention of logging some big miles today. I haven't really been pushing myself this week, so in order to hit a 40 mile week total, I needed to hammer down 11. No problem, I've done more miles before, and I've done them pretty regularly. So, insert caffeine into blood stream in the form of coffee, put on my running shoes and I was out the door. People always ask me why I do a lot of my running in the gym, and the answer is simple. I'm an incredibly spastic runner. I keep my arms high and tight and my tempo is all over the place because it's usually based on the beat of whatever I'm listening to, which is a total grab bag of terrible top 40s, emo-rock, and dj mash ups. My running, much like my playlists, is never pretty. It's fair to say that on any given run, my style will mimic each and every one of these guys. This morning, I was a total belieber, which meant for most of his most recent gift to the world of ears, I was maintaining about an 8:20 pace, which would have been awesome had I not totally blown it three miles in.
I feel like each one of these posts so far has had a relatively up front confession, so why stop now? As child number three in a family of four, I learned at an early age if you wanted something (like the best seat in the car, the remote control for the tv, the #1 spot in my parents' hearts) you had to give all you had to get what you wanted, which meant you either had to have more initial effort than someone else, or at least more resolve to not give up. Well, it's safe to say this attitude has carried over into preetttty much everything I do in my adult life, so when I found myself falling into stride with a fellow runner as we started cruising up the Queensboro bridge, I stepped on the gas.
I'd like to say my rise to the top was as meteoric as my musical muse's, but....it wasn't. I'd like to say I found wisdom in his words, and would never say never, but....I didn't. Instead I found myself
bonking--hard--400 meters into my sprint and I was left in what I can only assume must have been Carl Lewis' dust. Failure is a bitter pill to swallow but my girl Mary Poppins totally had it right: a spoonful of sugar does help the medicine go down. In my situation, the medicine was the bitch slap I receive c/o my man Carl Lewis on the bridge, and the spoonful of sugar was indeed a spoonful of sugar. That's right ladies and gentlemen, I gu-ed. I gu-ed, and it was good. And while I didn't catch up to the Flash on the bridge, nor did I finish my intended 11 miler, I made it through a solid six.
I have to be honest, I didn't think I was going to report back to you all on my pretty hasty return to the arms of my granular white mistress, but the first step towards recovery is admitting you have a problem. So here I am. My name is Katie, and it's been 8 hours since my last refined carb.
Saturday, March 2, 2013
Day 2: FOMO vs.FOBO
Captain's log: day two is coming in hot and I am suffering from a major case of FOMO. I spent my evening last night in New Jersey at my parents' house dog sitting, and in between the time spent convincing myself that every noise was not in fact a burglar high on bath salts and hungry for my face, managed to keep the paleo train moving in the right direction. Dinner was a three egg omelet with red pepper, onion and spinach and a handful of nuts. At some point soon I do realize I'm going to have to expand my paleo horizons beyond eggs, but for now, if it ain't yolk, don't fix it. WORDPLAY. (...sorry.)
Anyway, I woke up this morning--face fully intacked--slugged two cups of coffee, took the notorious D-O-G for a walk, and headed out for a run. One of the best parts about going home to NJ is being able to run on trails and not on pavement. I've been running a lot lately in my inov-8s but I forgot to bring them home so today I went out in my old asics. I've been feeling some soreness in my lower legs so the combination of the extra cushioning from my kicks and the softer ground was the running equivalent to high fiving a million angels--amazing. Logged a solid 7-miler then got my egg on. There really is no cool way to convey how hungry I was post run, so I'll just get graphic: i crammed four hard boiled eggs into my mouth and slammed a cup of green tea. My man better watch out, cuz I'm coming for him.
So back to the FOMO. Today is St. Patrick's day in Hoboken and while I'm not Irish, in my early 20's, a fan of crowds of people or the color green, nor capable of starting my day drinking at 7am, one of my best friends lives there and planned a perfectly age appropriate celebratory brunch at her apartment to be followed by some totally acceptable drinks around town. The whole dog sitting situation didnt allow me to join in on the brunch but it's now 2pm, my parents have returned and released me from my responsibilities and I'm still not on my way to party-town. And herein lies my conundrum: what's worse? My FOMO (fear of missing out) or my FOBO (fear of being obese)? Alcohol, especially beer, isn't on the paleo spectrum, and having not even made it 48 hours into this thing, I don't think I could go there, especially now when the majority of the people celebrating have been raging face since the early morning hours, and not drink. I realize that makes me sound like an alchy--rest assured that's not the case. I just feel like walking into that situation this late in the game would be like this--awkward for everyone involved. So I bowed out, and will be having my St. Patrick's day fun by proxy via a hilarious stream of progressively drunken text messages.
Paleo:1, my social life: 0.
Anyway, I woke up this morning--face fully intacked--slugged two cups of coffee, took the notorious D-O-G for a walk, and headed out for a run. One of the best parts about going home to NJ is being able to run on trails and not on pavement. I've been running a lot lately in my inov-8s but I forgot to bring them home so today I went out in my old asics. I've been feeling some soreness in my lower legs so the combination of the extra cushioning from my kicks and the softer ground was the running equivalent to high fiving a million angels--amazing. Logged a solid 7-miler then got my egg on. There really is no cool way to convey how hungry I was post run, so I'll just get graphic: i crammed four hard boiled eggs into my mouth and slammed a cup of green tea. My man better watch out, cuz I'm coming for him.
So back to the FOMO. Today is St. Patrick's day in Hoboken and while I'm not Irish, in my early 20's, a fan of crowds of people or the color green, nor capable of starting my day drinking at 7am, one of my best friends lives there and planned a perfectly age appropriate celebratory brunch at her apartment to be followed by some totally acceptable drinks around town. The whole dog sitting situation didnt allow me to join in on the brunch but it's now 2pm, my parents have returned and released me from my responsibilities and I'm still not on my way to party-town. And herein lies my conundrum: what's worse? My FOMO (fear of missing out) or my FOBO (fear of being obese)? Alcohol, especially beer, isn't on the paleo spectrum, and having not even made it 48 hours into this thing, I don't think I could go there, especially now when the majority of the people celebrating have been raging face since the early morning hours, and not drink. I realize that makes me sound like an alchy--rest assured that's not the case. I just feel like walking into that situation this late in the game would be like this--awkward for everyone involved. So I bowed out, and will be having my St. Patrick's day fun by proxy via a hilarious stream of progressively drunken text messages.
Paleo:1, my social life: 0.
Friday, March 1, 2013
Day 1
You know whats gnarly? Hard boiled eggs and green juice for breakfast. I'm not gonna lie, the egg stink, and my attitude right now, are both pretty terrible.
I had some really good intentions about going grocery shopping last night, getting myself set up for this 30 day challenge, and preparing meals and a game plan to take the work out of the first few days of this.
I'd be lying if I didnt tell you that in actuality I spent the majority of my night last night eating tacos and drinking beer with a friend at a newly opened restaurant we both wanted to go check out. I'd also be lying if I didn't admit that I'm having a little anxiety about what I'm going to say about my new diet at the lunch I have today with a food writer to discuss the opening of our newest restaurant project. Who wants to hang with a restaurant publicist that's on a diet and won't even drink? Not me. And who wants to BE the restaurant publicist that's on a diet and won't even drink? DEFINITELY not me.
I guess the point of this blog is two-fold: 1) i'm doing a challenge at the gym which involves blogging my daily activity; and 2) putting my intentions out here in public makes me accountable. I've been toying with the idea of paleo for a while now but have always rationalized it away, saying I'm not a Crossfitter, I don't really lift. My daily workouts are without question always a run, and then if I have time, some PT work that I either make up as I go, or I read about in the Spartan WOD. This approach has gotten me pretty far--I've cut weight and actually gotten into and started enjoying the exercise. But I've plateaued.
It's time for a true confession MTV-style, dear readers: my primary motivation here is not about healthy living because I think I'm doing relatively ok on that front. I exercise regularly and eat relatively healthfully. The motivation for this 30 day challenge is straight up, unadulterated, 100% vanity. I want abs like this. I want a b-o-d that looks like this. And I don't want to feel like this anymore. You know that poignant and touching episode of Full House where DJ Tanner goes on a crazy exercise binge to get bikini ready--you know, this one--that's basically me. But the all or nothing dieting and the excessive cardio didnt work for Donna Joe, and they CLEARLY aren't working for me.
SO, on day 1 of this challenge, I am shrugging off that I didnt make it to the gym this morning in time for the 7am bootcamp. I am proud of my 31 minute 4 mile run (that's a sub-8 pace, y'all). I'm stoked about the 25 minute TRX circuit I got in (thanks Pete!). And I'm stoked that the air quality post-eggs, much like my attitude post-blog entry, have both improved.
So, on day one, I feel a lot like Jesse Spano (minus the caffeine pills). I'm both excited, scared, and ready to make a change.
I had some really good intentions about going grocery shopping last night, getting myself set up for this 30 day challenge, and preparing meals and a game plan to take the work out of the first few days of this.
I'd be lying if I didnt tell you that in actuality I spent the majority of my night last night eating tacos and drinking beer with a friend at a newly opened restaurant we both wanted to go check out. I'd also be lying if I didn't admit that I'm having a little anxiety about what I'm going to say about my new diet at the lunch I have today with a food writer to discuss the opening of our newest restaurant project. Who wants to hang with a restaurant publicist that's on a diet and won't even drink? Not me. And who wants to BE the restaurant publicist that's on a diet and won't even drink? DEFINITELY not me.
I guess the point of this blog is two-fold: 1) i'm doing a challenge at the gym which involves blogging my daily activity; and 2) putting my intentions out here in public makes me accountable. I've been toying with the idea of paleo for a while now but have always rationalized it away, saying I'm not a Crossfitter, I don't really lift. My daily workouts are without question always a run, and then if I have time, some PT work that I either make up as I go, or I read about in the Spartan WOD. This approach has gotten me pretty far--I've cut weight and actually gotten into and started enjoying the exercise. But I've plateaued.
It's time for a true confession MTV-style, dear readers: my primary motivation here is not about healthy living because I think I'm doing relatively ok on that front. I exercise regularly and eat relatively healthfully. The motivation for this 30 day challenge is straight up, unadulterated, 100% vanity. I want abs like this. I want a b-o-d that looks like this. And I don't want to feel like this anymore. You know that poignant and touching episode of Full House where DJ Tanner goes on a crazy exercise binge to get bikini ready--you know, this one--that's basically me. But the all or nothing dieting and the excessive cardio didnt work for Donna Joe, and they CLEARLY aren't working for me.
SO, on day 1 of this challenge, I am shrugging off that I didnt make it to the gym this morning in time for the 7am bootcamp. I am proud of my 31 minute 4 mile run (that's a sub-8 pace, y'all). I'm stoked about the 25 minute TRX circuit I got in (thanks Pete!). And I'm stoked that the air quality post-eggs, much like my attitude post-blog entry, have both improved.
So, on day one, I feel a lot like Jesse Spano (minus the caffeine pills). I'm both excited, scared, and ready to make a change.
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