Rush job

Oh, all the food I've made is definitely way too tasty. What a conundrum. If I don't cook ahead of time, I'm tempted to put cheese on bread and call it lunch. If I do cook ahead of time, I'm temped to have four bowls of quinoa salad (with cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and feta) for lunch.

The problem isn't the cooking, really. It's the being in such a hurry that I don't even think my meals through.

So far, this month has been even worse than last in terms of sitting at the computer. I'm hoping to be freed up by next week, and to really start doing this primal experiment justice. There's a whole exercise philosophy to go along with the eating philosophy. Did you know?

Give them an inch and they'll take a mile

Rounded out my cooking frenzy over the past few days by making stuffed peppers, a new batch of chili, and a quinoa salad (with cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and feta). The idea is to have a ton of toss-in-the-microwave meals for the coming workpocalypse.

The only problem is that all the various tasties in the fridge are calling my name, and quite a bit louder than the work that's finally dribbling in. I never really wanted to overeat when I was on a strict Paleo diet. Maybe the bits of sugar and dairy I've let back in are working their black magic.

Turning things around

I woke up from a nightmare at 5 a.m. and couldn't go back to sleep, so my day started poorly. I made it worse by being grumpy to everyone. Then outside forces made it even worse yet—I had a week's worth of work to do in the next three days, and my client just wasted yet another day. So now I have a week's worth of work to do in two days. If I'm lucky!

I tried to solve this problem by eating Paleo ice cream, then by having a square of dark chocolate, then by making primal chocolate banana bread.

Finally, it was time for yoga class, where we're often told to "set an intention" for the practice. (I often think to myself, "I intend to spend the next hour doing yoga.") But today I said to myself, "By the time this class is over, I will be happy." And it worked like a charm.

Lesson learned. I hate emotional eating and adore yoga. Gotta be true to myself.

More for me!

I ran out of work, so today has been a bit of a cooking day. My usual process is:

1. Get an idea for something I want to make.
2. Google a bunch of recipes.
3. Decide none of them is quite right and just wing it.

That's how I came up with the tastiest meatballs ever. I fed them to the kids (with spaghetti for them and with mushrooms for me) but they made faces. So I scraped theirs into my bowl and tried not to let on that I was glad I didn't have to share. (My husband liked them, so I may have to share with him.)

Then I announced that I wanted to make some more coconut milk ice cream, and would my 13-year-old be interested in strawberry-banana? He thought strawberry-kiwi sounded better, and I had two very ripe kiwis, so I made that. It was awesome, but he didn't end up liking it. Heh, heh, heh.

Now I'm off to create some homemade ranch dressing and maybe some spicy sausage patties to freeze (I bought a Costco amount of ground pork). I'm going to need my own fridge soon.

Picky primal

The more I read (and experience) about primal eating, the more convinced I am that I need to try to steer the kids in this direction, too. But it's about a million times harder than fixing my own diet.

Child One is allergic to dairy and eggs—and without eggs, I don't think I would have made it through September. I just don't know how to have meat and vegetables for every single meal. Plus, he doesn't even eat a lot of different meats (which is my fault, because I don't either). Child Two is even pickier, doesn't like eggs, won't touch lunch meat or chicken, turns up his nose at 80% of all vegetables. Sigh. We worked on this kid for years to teach him to like hamburgers (figuring it was the only way he would survive his American childhood).

Yesterday, I made them a vegan version of Pad Thai to try (i.e., removing the offending chicken and eggs), but neither was too enthusiastic. I think I will keep trying until they learn to love it, though, because that is some tasty stuff. Until then, those leftovers are mine.

Another After moment

I just realized something extremely cool. You know how when you walk up a fairly long flight of stairs, you feel a bit out of breath at the top? (It's not just me, right?) I mean, it's not like I was ever clasping my chest and sucking air, but even when I was training for the Ironman, I regularly felt winded by stairs. I knew I wasn't "out of shape," so I just figured it was a fact of life.

Well, I just heard the cell phone ring, realized it was two floors down, sprinted down there, answered it, and then jogged back up, talking to the caller the whole time. Not even thinking about it, and not even a little bit out of breath. This is on almost zero "cardio" training for the past three months.

Wrap that in your low-fat tortilla.

My first After

Okay! The 30-day challenge is up. As you know from my constant whining about it, I felt pretty good before I started, and I feel pretty good now. So I can't personally report any huge changes. But here's how I did compared with the baseline I drew up before this all started: 

Before: I need to lose 20 to 30 pounds.
I just weighed myself and—without ever trying to limit the amount I ate, mind you—I lost 9 pounds. This delights and amuses me, because it's exactly the same amount I lost while training for the Ironman (over nine months) and exactly the same amount I gained back (in two months) after the Ironman. I will be interested to see if I can actually get below this weight in another month of primal eating. (Is there anything below this weight? I can't seem to remember that far back.)

By the way, my mom lost 11 pounds in the month, and my sister lost 12. My mom had the least to lose but was by far the healthiest eater—she was all about the celery sticks and broiled tilapia, whereas I was all, "Let's see if I can make ice cream and sweetbreads out of Paleo ingredients!"

Before: I am easily distracted when I should be working.
I've never heard any claims that Paleo can fix distractability, and I can't say I noticed a ton of change in my ability to focus. (If anything I was more distracted because I was constantly looking up recipes online.)

Before: I can't do any yoga pose requiring hip flexibility.
Again, Paleo doesn't claim to fix this. And it didn't. Sitting all the time didn't help.

Before: I never know where I've left my keys.
Now, this is interesting. I've never heard any claims that eating Paleo can fix flakiness, but I have to say I do feel distinctly less absentminded. I know exactly where my keys are at this moment.

Before: My STUPID FEET STILL HURT constantly. 
At first I was hopeful that this was going away, and it did get a bit better, but alas. My STUPID FEET still hurt (but they don't require quite as much capitalization).

Before: A lot of my hair is falling out.
Huge change here. My hair had been falling out by the handful, and now it's just a hair here and there—like a normal person.

Before: I have no desire to have an organic garden or play an instrument.
Those examples were jokes, so I still have no desire to do either. But I do feel generally more ambitious, more excited about being healthy, and more energetic.

Before: My fastest marathon is over six hours.
Frankly, I feel like I could beat that tomorrow, with no training. When I get more time, I'll probably start running again. The desire is slowly returning.

Before: My bathrooms are dirty, despite my having the desire for them to be clean and the ability to make them clean.
Oops. I've been feeling a bit more gung-ho about keeping the house neat, but that impulse hasn't yet extended to the bathrooms.

I got a surprise, too: After years of getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom—sometimes even twice—I'm generally not needing to anymore. It's maybe one night out of every four now. My theory is that there's less sugar in my body; therefore my body needs less water to flush it out; therefore I'm just not drinking as much.

Okay, Paleo challenge, you had me at "hello, you just lost 9 pounds." Let's do it again!