It has been two hours (tops) since my breakfast of two eggs, half a bell pepper, deli turkey and an apple with a generous portion of nut butter but I can already feel every aching muscle in my body (trust me, there are a lot of them today) crying pitifully for food... and I know from experience that those pitiful cries will soon become ravenous snarls of desperation.
I've been working out at Crossfit for a couple months. This morning's workout was a 400 meter run, plus 15 overhead squats (squat with a weighted bar held overhead with a wide grip, straight elbows), times five. I squatted with 50 lbs. above my head 75 times and ran a total of a little over a mile. The running was easy, the squats not so much. The workouts vary every day, I've never yet done the same workout twice. To say I love it... well, that just doesn't quite cut it. It's absolutely addicting. But nobody warned me about the inner animal that would be born as a result of these punishing workouts.
I'm normally a quiet person, composed, not one to exhibit emotion in public. Even I find it hard to believe that most mornings I'm making noises that otherwise I've only ever made during childlabor. Some afternoons I wonder why my voice is hoarse until I remember, as through a haze, the squats, or the ring dips, the wall balls, the snatches, or whatever other grueling things I did that morning.
They also didn't tell me that I would become a bottomless pit, or that eating so much could feel so good. I've been following what's called a Paleo (paleo as in paleolithic) diet. Basically, no grains, no sugar, very little fruit, no dairy and lots of meat, vegetables, nuts and seeds. Today, for example, for lunch, I loaded up my plate with a grilled chicken breast, a large handful of cherry tomatoes, cucumber, three slices of bacon, half an avocado, and two cups of salad greens and spinach. I don't quite remember eating the first half, the jaguar was definitely in control (it's a miracle I waited for the meat to cook). Gradually, the tunnel vision recedes and I become aware that Caleb has been trying to describe something to me for at least the past ten minutes. Only as I polish off the very last morsel on my plate do I think I might be sated... for the moment. I resist the impulse to lick the plate. Yesterday afternoon I was totally exhausted and tried to take a nap. I soon realized I was hungry despite the meal I'd finished an hour previous. I could only get to sleep after I'd devoured an entire rib-eye steak... I'm trying not to think about how many ounces that thing was, I'm not really sure... or how much it cost. But I can tell you how wonderful I felt when I finished it, and how blissful my nap was.
If I am the jaguar, then the Professor is... well, I'm at a loss for which herbivorous animal would best fit the Professor. Meals have become a little strained around here, especially when, for instance the Professor introduces the animal part of our meal. For example, "Say hello to John, kids!" With every meal I offend the Professor's vegetarian sensibilities. I've been busy enough with everything else going on here that I haven't yet figured out how to get around the fairly drastic differences in our dietary preferences. Perhaps there is only a way around it, and not directly through it. There is still, happily, at least one thing we can agree on: coconut milk. Wicked. Good. In fact, I think I'm going to have to go pour myself a glass.
Love,
The Professor's Wife
aka crazy ravenous jaguar
4 comments:
I have been trying to gear myself up for wanting to hurt again. In other words, to get back to these kinds of workouts. It is funny how they becoome essential after you do them for a while (conversely how quickly you can fall out of the habit) You are inspiring me!
Yum. ? Well, okay, I sort of understand, but then I eat like a real paleolithic man would if he lived in this age and it has little to do with patterned eating and I just found out how mixing what must have been rocks in my supposedly healthy smoothy from Jamba with half a box of chocolates at about 11:00 at night feels like and it's not good literature. So, Don't do what I did. It is very inspiring of what I was just feeling glad about not doing during parent teacher conferences which was binge eating, and it also didn't seem to have much in common with the about 5 lbs I lost in about 2 days because of the exercises I was doing with by simply sitting there, thinking about people, which is creates internal groanings the size of a bear's conflicted stomach in old school Yellowstone. (Shawn)
Yum. ? Well, okay, I sort of understand, but then I eat like a real paleolithic man would if he lived in this age and it has little to do with patterned eating and I just found out how mixing what must have been rocks in my supposedly healthy smoothy from Jamba with half a box of chocolates at about 11:00 at night feels like and it's not good literature. So, DON'T do what I did. It is very inspiring of what I was just feeling glad about not doing during parent teacher conferences which was emotional binge eating, and it also didn't seem to have much in common with the about 5 lbs I lost in about 2 days because of the exercises I was doing by simply sitting there, thinking about people, which creates internal groanings the size of a bear's conflicted stomach in old school Yellowstone. (Shawn)
Tom and his "lovable" dietary idiosyncracies....
During his entire childhood and adolescence he would hardly touch a thing on his dinner plate. It was as if it was hideous, indedible trash to him....I have to laugh. Granted, it wasn't French or Italian cuisine, but it was passable. Tom and food. Lovable Sigh. But of course, I do admire his unparalled iron tenacity in sticking to his principles, and what he believes to be right. Although I will never give up trying to get him to eat fish...
Post a Comment