Sunday, February 17, 2013

Day 7

Note: I'm not a doctor, nor am I treating any official diagnosis. I'm trying some stuff for a while to see what works for me. 

Summary: What if this is the New normal?

Workout: 4.75 miles on the treadmill.  I didn't want to die the whole time. Miracle!

Tummy: Joy. I feel like I'm ingesting strictly unicorns. Vegan unicorns of happiness.

Yesterday I was 100% on target with food. Except when I wasn't because EVERYONE WANTS TO SABOTAGE ME! Really, food manufacturers all sit around and scheme about how to fit weird chemicals and secret ingredients into everything. Veggie broth has hydrolyzed soy protein. So does my otherwise totally innocuous Progresso lentil soup. One thing this diet has taught me is that this level food preparation is wildly time consuming. That is compounded because I'm cooking for one, so I dont have stockpiles of anything. Except grains. I have SO MANY GRAINS. I guess, more accurately, I don't have stockpiled dishes, I just have components. I think we have 40 servings of millet and brown rice in the freezer (sorry, Nick, if you wanted to put anything besides your odd fiancee's gluten-free grains in there... not gonna happen). Assembling my food to come into work for 10-12 hours is a task- there's almond butter, salad dressing, 2 kinds of fruit to chop, 2 kinds of nuts, salad, beans, rice, veggies and an apple. Plus twice a week I chop veggies en masse. It's kind of out of control. 

My run today was notable- for the first time in almost a week, I felt like I could do more. I wasn't dragging to get to 4.5 miles, I felt fairly energetic. My only guess as to why that happened is that I woke up, ate some cantaloupe and cereal, and then waited 1.5 hours to run. Maybe that gave my body enough time to get some glucose chugging around? That's the only explanation I have. I also slept for 10 hours. So that might have helped a little. I dreamt about being in Afghanistan and trying to disarm landmines using a gun, then watching my partner get tased (tasered? no idea). Her name was Patty. I wish I was making this up.

I just feel so, so much better eating this way, I'm almost afraid of the next test. The wine "challenge" was so night and day, I was so quickly reminded of how terribly uncomfortable I was before. What if it's yeast? Or gluten? Or something else that's in everything and will just make life as an almost vegan even harder? Ugh. I know people deal with way more difficult stuff in their lives, but being the pickiest eater EVER is not my favorite thing. Oh well. 

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