I did it all for the nookie

So here I sit, four days out from my meet.  I’ve met my goal weight, my lifts look promising, and I look better than I have in years.  So I should feel great, right?  I feel….rotten.  Not sick or anything, more rotten in a literal sense.  Hollow, weak, tired, and irritated.  I heard a story recently about a body building couple that found themselves in the same predicament.  They had trained their brains out, dieted like maniacs, and gotten great results.  They looked fantastic, best shape of their lives!  However, they were completely exhausted, crabby, and had zero sex drive. So even though they could scale mountains (or at least steep hills), impress even the most casual observer with their muscles, and undoubtedly give a stellar performance in the sack…..neither one of them wanted anything to do with it.  The mere thought of a romp in the hay was brining today’s blenderized chicken back up for a revisit.

I can sympathize.  All sorts of personal interaction have become increasingly less attractive.  Conversations just seem like work, normal daily activities are just walking temptations that I’d rather skip all together, and any form a kindness just seems like a huge pain in the ass.  I would even say that I feel like I’ve had a full on personality removal.  My normally dry sense of humor just comes across as, “seriously buddy, just do us all a favor and shut your pie hole”, or “eff off, can’t you see I’m exhausted over here.”  I’ve lost my ability to even fake it, which is saying a lot.  I’ve spent most of my life claiming to be a master in the art of deception.  But now days, I’m just too hungry to care. 

“So you can take that cookie….and stick it up your a……”

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Warning: Dieting makes you Fat!

If you surveyed 10 million people, I’d be willing to bet that 99.967% of them would agree that dieting is a total pain in the arse.  And if you surveyed those same 10 million people (I’m all about a good sample size), I’m sure they’d agree on some basic expected outcomes of dieting:

            Lose weight…duh

            Increased energy levels

            Increased crabbiness

            And of course, increased body image and confidence!!

Yeah…..that’s what I thought too.  Boy, was I wrong (except for the crabbiness).  I’ll start out by saying, this is not your average diet.  I’m not trying to be a certain size or look a certain way.  My only goal is to see a certain number on the scale, and that number isn’t coming.  While I’ve lost almost 10% total body weight and noticed significant changes in my body, it’s not enough.  I haven’t been able to take one minute to enjoy the fact that my jeans are so loose they’re almost falling off, or that I’ve had to go buy new jeans in a smaller size.  I don’t look down at my newly peeking abs and get excited.  I just look a few inches lower and see all that I have left to lose.  And then I think about everything I’ve eaten in the last few days that I shouldn’t have- 5 extra almonds, a scoop of peanut butter, milk and honey in my coffee, that burger patty the other night…ugh.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to show up at the meet looking like this…

 

 Hot stuff eh?

I guess my point is that losing weight has actually made me much more self conscious of my body than I ever was before.  I was perfectly fine with how I looked before.  I was aware of the fact that I was hauling around some extra weight, but I was proportional.  I was comfortable- my clothes fit, I felt good, my fiancé ws happy with my shape.  I was very happy with how I looked.  Take away 15 pounds…..and I feel like a  flabby sack of sh*t.  Having to think about every calorie and measuring fat, carbs, and protein (to the effing gram) every day AND having to watch the scale like a hawk has turned me into a 13 year old girl with rock bottom self esteem.  I’m constantly fighting this nagging feeling of guilt over the food I ate and the cardio sessions that I missed.  It’s not fun kids.  I’m starting to feel a bit looney after almost 9 weeks of this business.

I’m sure it’s just a phase. I’ll eventually learn to define myself by more that just the fact that I’m still 2 pounds over my goal weight.  I’m also pretty sure that all this self doubt has a lot to do with the fact that I’m really worried that I’m not going to make my goal weight.  I seriously think that would crush me…after all of this….I can’t even imagine.

The other part of the goal is, of course, to move some weight around.  I actually managed to do a little bit of that yesterday.  It was a day of heavy singles for squats and deadlifts.  For the first time in my life, my squats felt awesome.  I was supposed to do 3×1 at 200 pounds.  It was cake.  I even doubled it on the last set just because I couldn’t believe how easy it was.  I was on fire…..that is until I set foot on the deadlift platform.  Eek.  My warm ups felt fine, until I got to 245…that felt HEAVY.  I was supposed to do 3×1 at 265.  I put 265 on the bar and seriously could NOT get it off the ground.  After having such a great squat workout, I thought the deadlifts would be no sweat.  I was pissed!  What to do now?  I put 245 back on and decided to just do 3×1 at 245.  I did the reps, but I just felt like such a nancy.  I should definitely be able to pull 265!!!  So I put it back on the bar and got it done.  I did it twice (2×1) just so that I could live with myself.  After seeing me suffer all night, eventually Uncle Jeff (the trainer) came by and asked me how it was going.  My response:  “I tried 265 earlier but I couldn’t get it because my vagina got in the way.  I tried it again later and got it though.”  Really???  Who says that?  I guess it’s true. 

Have you ever experienced negative results when going on a dieting adventure?  Tell me about it!!  Or,  have you ever been so pissed by not making a lift that you lost all ability to filter??  I’d love to hear the gory details.  It will seriously help me feel better about myself ; )

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Hot Legs

I still cringe every time I hear that Rod Stewart song.  I can’t believe that was actually a hit.  What were people thinking?  However, maybe the reason that I really can’t stand that song is because I don’t have hot legs?  I’m sure it has something to do with my deeply suppressed jealousy of women (and men) with nice legs.  I’ve mentioned the dichotomy of thigh-rubbers versus non-thigh-rubbers.  I’d say that those two groups could also be classified as nice legs and….not so nice legs.  There are, of course, exceptions to every rule.

 

Serena’s got some hot legs, but I’d be willing to bet those thighs have a high affinity for one another.

Some women are just born with great legs.  They’re long, and skinny to go along with the rest of their perfect looks.

 

Gisele…..nuff said.

 

Even Jessica Simpson…despite tons of claims that her looks are quickly diminishing….has some hot legs!!

And this brings back to my whole pre-determined destiny theory.  Legs….you either have ‘em or you don’t.  Anyone who’s picked up a magazine….Glamour, Shape, Cosmo….has seen the well defined shapes that women are supposed to fit into.  If you’re petite, wear super tight clothes that make you look hot.  If you’re apple shaped, chose one of the 10 bazillion tops that are currently in stores to flatter your shape and expertly hide your muffin top.  If you’re pear shaped, go to the nearest sporting goods store and buy a tent to wrap yourself in because there is absolutely no hope for you.  (Can you tell what category I’m in ; )  It kills me!  Yet another aspect of life that is just not fair.

Those apple shapes, I tell ya they’ve got it made.  Even when things get really out of control on top, they still have rockin hot legs!

 

Look…she’s got magical disappearing legs!!!

A pear shape, on the other hand, is screwed.  When you’re a pair and you start gaining weight…..this is the effect is has on your body.

 

Affectionately referred to as the donkey booty.

There is no camouflage or frilly, cute top that will hide exploding thighs and a donkey booty.  And the worst part is, even when you get things under control, there is still a strong chance that your legs still won’t be suitable for public.  Enter…..ugly knee syndrome.

 

The horror!

 

Oh god….make it stop.

This is the boat I’m in- Pear shaped with deformed knees.  Good thing they make really cute jeans!!  And my summer staple…capris (specially formulated for ugly kneed pears)!!  So there you have it, my rant on my effed genetics.  I’m sure you wouldn’t have to look to hard to find an apple out there that would trade her pinky toe to be in my pear shaped shoes, but that really doesn’t make me feel any better.  So for now I will just sick back and quietly think evil thoughts whenever I see skinny legged girls in their short shorts and mini skirts.

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Does muscle weigh more than fat?

Seriously, how many times have you heard that?  If you ever hear some one say that, you have my permission to give them the mother of all titty-twisters.  So silly.  Then you should politely explain that a pound of muscle weighs exactly the same as a pound of fat.  If they still don’t get it, then you have my permission to slap them.  Once we’re all on the same page, it’s obvious that it’s really a question of density- not weight.  Muscle is, of course, more dense than fat.  So a pound of fat takes up a lot more space than a pound of muscle.  So why is it that so many people think that you are going to physically triple in size when you gain muscle mass and lose fat?  I don’t understand.

A pound of muscle is approximately the size of baseball.  A pound of fat, however, is about three times that size and looks like a giant glob of cottage cheese.  So for every pound of fat you replace with muscle….you lose TWO BASEBALLS.  That’s pretty amazing.  I’m packing at least six or eight baseballs in each butt check so I’m pretty excited about those odds.  Jeez, now I wish my scale would read in baseballs instead of pounds.  I need to lose 12 baseballs before my next meet on May 14^th.  Here we go!

In my quest for baseball sloughage, I spent another evening in the gym last night.  I set out to squat 10×3 at 185 pounds.  Ouch….30 reps at 185.  I got through the first seven sets before my form just totally crapped out.  I can always tell when I’m not going to make it out of a squat rep. I go about .2 mph on the way down, totally burning out all strength that I might have left.  Then I make it back up about 2 inches before complete muscle failure ensues.  It’s pretty awesome.  Next up I had Sumo RDL’s, Good Mornings, and Reverse Hyper.  Considering that I was not feeling super motivated, I decided to make things a bit more interesting. I turned the last three exercises into a giant super set and added 120 jump rope skips at the end of every round to work in a little cardio.  Low and behold, the workout went by way faster!  It was blissful.  I’m debating trying the same thing with my bench workout tonight..yay!

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Don’t Push Me!

Oh my, there has been so much negativity swirling around me lately.  The fiance affectionately refers to me as “crabass” most days.  So I’ll, for once, give him credit for being right.  I have been crabby.  Crabby about all the planning/work I’ve been doing for our upcoming nuptuals.  I so wish I could be one of those people that just rolls with the punches and pulls off absolutely fabulous events without even trying or caring.  Nope, I have to think about every detail.  It’s truly a curse…I guess it’s the (strongly supressed) career waitress in me.  My soon to be groom just nods and gradually adjusts the volume on the TV while I blabber on.  It’s fine….I understand I’m genetically predisposed to care about this sh*t.  And seriously, if he was asking me what kind of flowers we were going to have and if the bridesmaid dress was going to have pick ups and a sweetheart neckline….I’d run as fast as I could in the opposite direction. 

I have no explanation for this one….just thought it was great!

Another reason I’m crabby is because I’m battling the weight loss demons again.  This is my 500th attempt to cut down to a lower weight class.  It’s god awful terrible trying to lose weight.  Thinking about every stupid thing that you put in your mouth….ugh.  The good news is that I’ve managed to cut about 6 pounds.  The bad new is that I’ve got another 6 to go.  I’m on a very restricted carb schedule- with the exception of fruits and veggies.  And lots of lean protein.  Do you have any idea how awful it is to eat plain chicken breasts 5 nights in a row?  It’s not fun.  I have discovered that eating this type of food makes it absolutely impossible to over eat.  I sit down with the portions that I should be eating for lunch and dinner.  The sh*t tastes so bad that I have to talk myself into almost every bite.  I feel like a 2 year old and my mom is trying to get me to eat “just one more bite pooky wooky-kins.”  Lame.  I’ve seriously debated dipping every bite in water like the competitive eaters do in order to make it go down easier.

I’ve had a few close calls over the last few weeks of “detoxing” from carbs and sugar (also a carb, I know).  One of the worst times was when my friend/coworker thought that it would be a fabulous idea to go do some recycling education work in a school cafeteria (hanging signs, etc.) DURING LUNCH.  You know what kids are eating for lunch these days?  Oh….the days of nasty square pizza and chicken patties are over.  I had to stand there and watch them cram curly fries and luscuious Pizza Hut pizza down their throats…meanwhile I’ve gone 10 full days without a non-fruit/veggie carb or refined sugar.  I wanted to KILL HER….and every kid in that lunchroom.  Dead.  And then eat ALL of their curly fries and pizza.  It was pretty brutal.

I’ve had a few slip ups along the way, but I’m hanging in there. I’ve noticed some variation in my strength, and I fully expect it to decrease a bit.  I have at least 7 weeks before my next meet.  Hopefully that will be enough time to cut the rest of the weight and then build up some of the strength I lose?  We’ll see.

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Don’t fear the Creeper

Every gym has one….you know who I’m talking about.  That guy.  It starts off with a simple question, and you answer it because you’re a nice person and you’re giving him the benefit of the doubt.  Just because you haven’t seen him lift a single weight or do anything even remotely workout related in the 45 minutes he’s been there, doesn’t mean he’s achieved strict creeper status.  He could just be having an off day?  So you entertain him….answer his stupid and obviously contrived question about your workout and move on….or so you thought.  He quickly follows up with another question, and another, only to follow with some ever so worthless morsel of completely useless advice.  Eff me sideways…..the creeper has set his hooks in.  Before you know it, you’re in a full on game of cat and mouse…adjusting your workout schedule to avoid when he’ll be there.  Wearing headphones AT ALL TIMES even if there’s nothing playing just so you can pretend that you don’t hear him.  Seriously, these people should be permanently banned from society.  And if not from society in general, then at least all public facilities and especially all gyms.  Who needs to worry about that?  It’s hard enough just getting to the gym, and then figuring out what you’re going to do once you get there, but to have to worry about whether or not the creeper is going to waste 30 minutes of your valuable gym time telling you about how much he used to be able to curl…back in the day of course…while his hairy, pimpled gut spills out over his Umbros.  My solution, just don’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt…when you’re at the gym anyway.  You will only regret it.  And on the opposite end of the spectrum (I suppose there could be a potential creeper reading this), don’t give unsolicited advice.  People typically don’t appreciate it.

I had another bench workout yesterday.  I’m slowly gaining a bit of strength…emphasis on the slowly.  I did 5×6 at 105 pounds yesterday. It would normally have been really easy, but this time around it was fairly difficult during the last few sets. I did notice that my shoulder hurt a lot less when I really focus on keeping everything tight the whole time.  Next up were some barbell rows, shoulder presses, pull ups, and tricep push downs.  The push downs are seriously my equalizer. I feel like I have to take weight off every set.  They leave me in a crumpled mess, sad really.

And just because I hadn’t had enough of the creeper (he’s not my creeper, just ‘a’ creeper so it’s no biggy), I decided to head to Anytime for some treadmill time.  I typically try to do my treadmill walking in a fasted state (first thing in the morning), but I’m seriously behind on my “must frequent the gym 12 times to get free membership” deal.  So I went at night and got a good 30 minutes in.  The depressing part is that none of that probably made a dent in the calories that I consumed yesterday, but it was worth a shot I guess.

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VD….The holiday or the horror?

Guess who got flowers sent to her office by her fiancé (no…not my mom) for Valentine’s Day?  Yep….It was me!!!  They were so pretty and so unexpected. I am so lucky to have such a great guy.  Little did he know when we met that he was in for a lifetime of utter bliss ; )  I think he’s surviving the train wreck that is all things AJ just fine.  We have been thrown a new curve ball though.
I’ve mentioned before that the dear fiance has been known to have a slight resemblance to Tom Cruise.  I don’t see it at all.  I think it was more apparent in his younger days.  I’ve always been irritated by that comparison, but unfortunately, it’s being replaced by something even more disturbing.  Turns out….people think we look alike.  Seriously.  No mam, I’m not making out with my brother, but thanks for your concern.  This is a well documented phenomenon.  Both that people tend to choose partners that resemble themselves and that couples start to look more like each other the longer they are together.  Thanks honey for not being bald and buck toothed, cause that’s not exactly what I’m going for here! 

For real?  Their outfits even match!@!

Being told that I look like I’m marrying my brother was just one of my many Valentine’s presents this year.  I also spent the entire day wading through a ridiculous mess of estate related issues.  This entire experience has felt like I’ve been beating my head against the wall.  It has been a continual disappointment from so many different directions.  This is the first and only time that I’ve ever been involved in a home foreclosure. It is embarrassing, frustrating, and ugly.  I’m glad that it won’t have any effect on my personal finances, but it’s still not something that I ever thought I would be a part of.  Add in another mountain of debt from my father’s “business” endeavors….omg.  I’ve never seen such drama over debt in my life. It’s like there is has been some sort of brain washing that’s occurred, but I was absent that day…Like I’m in a game of hot potato, but no one else has figured out that you’re actually supposed to be trying to get rid of the scalding hot tuber that’s scorching your flesh as we speak (scratch and sniff).  Eh.  I’m hoping it will all be over by year’s end and we can pleasantly move on.

I suppose this all brings me to yesterday’s workout. It’s so nice to walk into the gym with more baggage than your average homeless guy.  If I were going to a kick boxing class or something, it could actually be a huge benefit.  Get all your anger and frustration out on the bag or your opponent.  But lifting weights?  I’ve heard of some guys head butting the bar.  Seriously though??  That’s just dumb ; )  So instead, I was a basket case of a lifter.  As soon as anything got hard, I bailed.  I had no fight in me.  Just whimpering.  I also had the remains of my gut wrenchingly sore back to deal with.  Oh mother of jebus was my back sore all weekend.  There was no shoe tying or bending over to speak of.  I did, however, manager to do my first rowing workout.  That went great except for that brief second at the beginning of each stroke when I had to bend forward slightly.  That left me with tiny little waves of nausea every second or two.  Otherwise it was fabulous.

So, Sqats 5×10 at 155 turned into 3×10 at 155.   RDL sthat were supposed to be 3×10 at 185, turned into 155.  Front squats that were supposed to be 3×10 at 115 were at 95, and the reverse hyper was at 25 pounds instead of 50.  Oh my goodness, it was terrible.  I lost all confidence after my 3^rd set of squats which meant that the rest of the workout was ever so frustrating.  I did my best not to let it get me down.  Everyone has bad days in the gym….yada yada yada.

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I can’t stop checking out other people’s cans!

Trash cans, that is.  Blame it on my lengthy (okay, so it’s only been 5 years) career in solid waste (garbage and recycling).  Or maybe I’m just crazy?  I don’t know.  Either way, I’ve developed a terrible habit of looking at (and in) garbage cans.  What exactly am I looking for?  Sometimes I notice that they’re overfilled….which indicates a serious need for some waste reduction practices.  Sometimes I see recyclables stuffed in with dirty napkins and food waste- yuck!  And other times, I just notice that they haven’t been changed in a LONG time.  I’m all about conserving garbage bags, don’t get me wrong.  But rotten, stinking garbage hanging out in a can for way too long….no thanks. 

It could always be worse…..source

In all honesty, a large majority of the American population is rather piggy.  So when you have garbage cans in public spaces….look out.  Most people see it as the perfect place to dispose of the rotten, half eaten hamburger that’s been hanging out in their trunk for six months.  Or worse, the rancid, dirty diaper that is emitting some serious toxic gas in the back seat.  The absolute worst is when this sort of the thing happens at the gym.  The other day, I was in the locker room and some one had thrown away their whopper wrapper.  You know how whoppers are really just oozing masses of grease and mayo?  Well, that’s exactly what was in the trash can and all over the floor- this green pickle stained glob of goo.  Ugh, it was sick.  The same thing happens in the garbage can under the drinking fountain.  I head over there, totally sucking wind and looking to one tiny sip of water as the savior that will help to drag me through the 15 more sets that I have staring me in the face. I lean in for a drink, but instead I get a giant whiff of three day old, rotting muscle milk bottles.  Seriously disgusting.  So there you have it- my weird pet peeve/nerdy garbage stalking habit.

Luckily the trash cans were mostly in order when I went in for my workout yesterday.  It was another squat day, and I was nervous.  I figured any sort of an edge that I could give myself would be helpful, so I pulled out the pink goodness.  I’ve stopped using any kind of pre workout drink because I was having so much trouble sleeping.  Yesterday, I felt like getting through the workout would be worth losing a few hours of sleep though.  So I mixed it up and then headed to the gym. I had 5×12 at 150 pounds for squats…eek.  I did the first set, and sure enough- it was hard.  I was already getting nervous that I wasn’t going to get through it, so I decided to use my belt.  This normally isn’t the kind of workout that I would use a belt for, but like I said…I was desperate.  And it helped, I got through the remaining 4 sets just fine (if fine means seriously sucking wind and taking more rest than a newborn baby).  Next up was 5×10 RDLs.  Since I flaked out on the assigned 155 pounds last week, I decided to go for it this week. It was tiring, but the sets felt good.  Finally, it was 5×10 front squats.  After embarrassing myself with 65 pounds last week, I stepped it up to 85 pounds this time around.  I really think I could have done 95, but (as you are aware) I’m a big vajayjay.  So there you have it.  Mission accomplished.  And the best part, I can still walk today!!!

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Friday Funday

So I’ve gone in spurts in my annoyance with the stereotypes that surround female weight lifters.  Lately it hasn’t been getting under my skin as much, but yesterday it presented itself in a whole new way. 

I am very lucky to be able to lift in a gym that doesn’t have a lot of the average gym goers.  Almost everyone that I’ve actually had a chance to talk with at my gym is really nice and typically very interesting.  We have a whole group of female, masters rowers.  They are a fun group that trudge through grueling workouts together.  Then there’s the woman that’s working to make the next Olympic marathon team.  There have been college sprinters, a javelin thrower, dozens of hockey players, cops, and even a 27 year old guy with lingering hopes of making it to the NFL.  I’d say I fit in pretty well with this group, although I’m still occasionally referred to as “that lady that lifts a lot”. 

Yesterday at the gym, I was using the platform next to one of the other gym goers.  This is a high schoolish aged girl.  (Sadly, I’ve officially reached the stage in life where everyone under the age of 25 looks the same- young.)  I’ve never talked with her before, but I knew that she was a competitive Olympic lifter.  I have no idea how long she’s been doing it, but I have heard she’s fairly good at it.  Yesterday, she struck up a converstation.  She’s a pretty chatty young girl so we talked about some people at the gym, how hot it was in there, etc.  Then she asked what I did, “do you do the same thing as me?”.  Nope, I’m a powerlifter- squat, bench, and dead lift.  Personally, I think I would kill myself if I tried to be an Olympic lifter.  Again, i’m seriously lacking on the coordination front.  A few minutes later (the dynamics of inter-set conversations), she asked how my fiance (okay, okay so I might have been showing my ring off around the gym before my workout) felt about me being a power lifter.  I’ve been asked this question many times, but it’s usually phrased in more of a “I bet you wear the pants around the house” sort of way.  I felt like this question was different.  So I spoke from the heart.  “He likes it, I think.  I’ve always been somewhat athletic and he’s always supported me.   And I think he like how I look- that’s always a good thing.”  She kind of lit up at that last part.  “That’s good!!”  Then she started to tell me about how people tease her at school because she’s a weight lifter and tell her that she’s going to start to look like a man if she keeps it up.  She sort of played it off like it didn’t bother her, but I’m not sure if that was 100% accurate.  She also said that her boyfriend likes how she looks, which was good.  And she said that some of the other girls she lifts with are really pretty.  Actually, her exact words were, “I wouldn’t mind seeing a few of those girls in a magazine!”  How cute.  So I gave her a few of my go-to arguments for the nay-sayers at school (of course some female weight lifters look like men….they’re injecting themselves with male hormones!!!!) and sent her on her way.  I don’t mind so much when people make inaccurate assumptions about me, but give the kid a break.  She’s good at what she does, and I really hope that some ignorant teasing doesn’t get in her way!!!

It’s funny that more they start to look like men, the harder they try to look like women- more make up, bigger hair, skimpier clothes, higher heels.  Nice try, but…….give it up honey.

I did my usual 2 workouts in 12 hours gig on Thursday and Friday.  Ugh.  Thursday was a wimpy squat day- 5×3 at 175 pounds.  I did it without a belt just to get a little more out of it.  Then it was “speed” deadlifts- 10×1 at 150 pounds and front squats- 3×8 at 115 pounds.  Despite the fact that this workout was easy peasy…it left me with some of the worst toe and foot cramps I’ve ever had.  Even my arches were cramping.  Seriously….it sucked.  Luckily, they were gone by Friday morning when I headed back to the gym for an easy bench day.  Speed bench- 9×3 at 95 pounds and 1×3 at 135 pounds.  Then some incline bench, dumbbell rows, and a set of dips 1xfail.  I got 20 dips before quitting.  I might have been able to do a few more, but it was getting pretty tiring.  And that was it….another week down.

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Blah, Blah, Blah

Hey- I have those socks!!

Bland, the story of my life lately.  I’ve been sick for about three weeks now.  Nothing major, but enough so that I have absolutely no sense of taste.  And a lack of taste has lead to a complete lack of interest in all things food.  I cannot imagine how people go through their entire lives like this. I have an uncle who lost his sense of taste years ago resulting from a head injury in a car accident.  He goes primarly by textures now, and the memory of the things he used to like to eat.  I don’t understand how life could be worth living like that.  I have always had a health appetite, usually too healthy.  But now i’m finding myself forcing food down.  I never used to mind putting in the effort to cook or grocery shop so that I could have good food.  Now, I have zero motivation to do either of those things.  If I can’t taste it, why would I want to put a bunch of work into something?  And the weirdest part is that most of the foods that I normally rely on regularly….sound nauseating- subway, pork chops, bread of any kind, ugh.  The only thing that sounds good are really salty or fatty food- mac and cheese, chicken fingers, french fries, cheese burgers.  At this point, I’d be willing to just deal with the excessive calories just so that I could eat something without gagging.  However, I have no gallbladder.  This seriously limits my grease intake.  Actually, it goes beyond limiting it….it almost eliminates it.  What’s even worse than spending a bunch of time preparing food that you can’t even taste and have to choke down?  Having explosive diarhhea afterwards.  Trust me…no fun.  So I’m stuck with the blandest of foods these days.  I think the only thing getting me through this are coke and coffee.  The coke is fantastic because I can taste the ridiculous amount of sugar and the bubbles make my mouth happy.  And coffee is working because I’ve started adding sugar free syrup.  I know it’s awful stuff, but it makes it so I can taste something.  These two beverages are especially important because I can’t stand the thought of drinking water either.  So I’m operating on little food, no water, and a pathetic amount of sleep due to a persistent cough that starts as soon as I lay down.  Sounds like the perfect combo to fight this cold ; )

A few folks have suggested that I avoid the gym in order to rest more, but I just can’t do it.  If I wasn’t working out, I don’t think I would have the motivation to eat any food at all.  It’s really the only thing driving me to choke down my lunchtime vittels.  And it’s a huge stress reliever, which I need more than ever right now.  I know there are a lot of people that have it a lot worse than I do, but I’m definitely having a pity party today.  Channeling Kesha…..Blah, Blah, Blah.

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