It’s 5 til 10 a.m. and I have these accomplishments:
- Got home and made breakfast for my mom before she left for school
- Made myself a Paleo breakfast bowl (roasted brussel sprouts, grass-fed ground beef, egg whites and avocado….BOMB.COM! (yes, I still use this term from time to time)) and some Bulletproof Coffee (no, I didn’t take any pictures. Shocking, I know).
- Made the PaleoHacks beef stew recipe while listening to the latest podcast with Clark Danger and Joe Salama
- ^^ Learning how to make link syntaxes just now. I have a blog now, there shouldn’t be any reason NOT to learn HTML coding.
The podcast reminded myself of the importance of maintaining your body; investing, and by that I mean working out. I’m one of those people that “doesn’t make time” to dedicate myself to working out on a consistent basis.
Why? I’m a thinker. An obsessively unhealthy thinker.
To the point about thinking about working out so much that I think I won’t know how to do a proper work out, because there are SO MANY WAYS to work out “properly” and getting the most bang for your buck with HIGH INTENSITY INTERVALS in shorter increments of time and I’m always hearing things like “I only lift heavy once a week” or “you need MORE cardio” and I just envision the cardio room at my gym and everyone is running at the same pace on machines that don’t take them anywhere and we all look like lab rats with electrodes suctioned onto our skin from head to toe!
At that point I just give up all together before I even try. I could run on, but I’ll spare you and digress….
I lift weights at the gym. Not too slow, but not so fast that my veins are bulging out of my neck and I’m screaming like the meat head-looking bro next to me who’s deadlifting. And I feel sore the next day. That’s the classic indicator of progress, right?
And I like yoga. I do it sometimes. Not as often as I should. But I’m good at stretching. Which is nice, but results? Nah. I just feel loose afterward.
However, perfecting an inversion would be cool. I see 60+ year old ladies doing handstands and dolphin poses all the time (that’s doing a handstand, except you’re on your forearms). Not age discriminating here, but if a bag o’ bones and the housewives of Orange County in their Lululemon yoga pants and duck lips can do it, then so can I, dammit.
The other struggle I have in yoga is meditating and “finding your inner peace” and “being in the present moment” during my practice.
Forget it. I live in SoCal. We all have agendas. We all have “lists”. And we demonize them by looking at what we haven’t done as opposed to what did get done. And although I’m between a Type A and a Type B personality, I definitely took the list-writing from side A, otherwise, for me, stuff doesn’t get done.
What if we didn’t get ANYTHING done on our lists? Well, did you do something that you enjoyed? Did any of your daily activities make you happy? Put that on your list. Do something that doesn’t stress you out. Because stress is bad news. No really, we weren’t meant to let work own us captive to the point of sleep deprivation and neglecting the most important relationships to us in life.
Or, were you helping someone else? Did nothing go as you had originally planned because your car broke down? Life’s full of variables. Shit happens. Don’t let one thing create an effect of spiraling hopelessness.
But back to exercise: Clark Danger said something along the lines of, ‘If you don’t make time to invest, it’s like you’re saying, “I’m too busy driving to put gas in the car.”’
That’s me. In all caps.
But a dirty little secret of mine has been to be a fitness model. I’ve held onto that since I was 15.
…And a fighter, since last year.
And a doctor.
And a writer.
And an entrepenuer.
And a nutritionist.
And so forth.
But the pre-planned ½ cup of brown rice, 4 oz baked tilapia filet and steamed asparagus is daunting to me, depriving and even depressing. I’m still investigating any means have having my cake and eating it too (gluten-free cake, or better yet, ice cream).
So more recently I’ve been trying “counting macros.” It’s been pressing my patience. I don’t enjoy it. I’m getting obsessed in planning what I’m going to eat for the rest of the day. I don’t mind measuring. It’s counting grams and calories that bothers me. Ever since I went Paleo I have had this dogma assuming that counting calories is waste of time and energy (no pun intended). And I’m still trying to disregard them as such.
So during this self experiment of measuring my food, yesterday I was 16 grams of fat over my goal percentage, and according to the IIFYM protocol I would be f***ed. I’m a fatty.
I’ve gained weight since I went Paleo 3 years ago and I’m still trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t. High carb? Low carb? Some dairy? I don’t know half the time, but when I can manage to do things right, I’ve never recalled a time where I felt physically and mentally better in my performance than I do now.
It’s too bad that the name Life was taken for a grainy, bland cereal, because BP Coffee should have been named that. LIFE. Life Coffee. That’s what it helps me with. Being better at LIFE. Or the LIFE diet.
God gave us so many plants and flavors and colors to choose from. And I love cooking. I can’t imagine having the same meal every day when I know there’s butter waiting to be blended with my coffee.
So aside from feeling exuberant in the fact that I’ve done a handful of things today, including sitting my ass down to organize my thoughts in a messy page of a blog post, I plan to
- hike Peter’s Canyon
- walk my dogs
- read my labs for next Wednesday’s practicum
Will I procrastinate on the last one? Probably. But now that I have my list laid out before me I’m more likely to get it done than the person that didn’t write down their to-do list…