It’s been awhile since I posted. There have been nights where I had a desperate need, but my traitor body decided it was too tired. Sleep [dreams] are sometimes an excellent cure for a troubled mind. Oddly, I have felt guilty about not posting. This is silly because as much as I cherish and appreciate the comments left by readers, this blog is not for you. It is for me, and only me. It is a tool for my recovery, nothing more.
That being said, I have missed you.
Things have changed much in the time we’ve been apart. Besides coping with the (temporary) loss of my Penguin, I have started a new job, workout regimen and degree program (this will be my third). Needless to say I am frantically busy, which has been both a reprieve and hindrance. On one hand, I have less free time to binge. On the other, I have less free time for anything resembling fun.
My eating has been…erratic. When I am busy, I find myself forgetting to fuel my body. I’ll sip on a zero calorie energy drink all day, only to realize – as I’m crawling into bed – that not a bit of food has passed my lips. If I was aiming for anorexia, this would be amazing. Since I’m aiming for healthy, things like that piss me off.
This morning I used www.mydailyplate.com to calculate just how much I’ve been eating. The results? My daily consumption has been falling somewhere between 500 and 800 calories. Of those calories: 40% comes from fat (boiled eggs and almonds), 20% comes from protein (boiled eggs and protein bars) and 40% comes from carbs (protein bars, fresh vegetables and fruit). Not good. I really need to up my protein intake if I want to continue building muscle. I’m also afraid that my body will become nutrient deprived since my calorie count is atrocious. I’d take supplements, but they make me incredible sick. I think regardless of what I eat during the day, my dinner will include a protein smoothie (non-sweetened frozen fruit, water and vegan protein powder) with kale. And by “include”, I mean that it will replace my evening meal. Fuck dinner.
For the past month and half, I have been working out two to four times a day (at least an hour each session). Last week I hiked over 40 miles, completed three strength-training workouts, spent three hours kayaking and another two hours mountain biking (yes, on real mountains). On a whole, I feel great. I’ve never been stronger or had more endurance. On the downside, this regimen is taking a toll on my body. Something always hurts, and I’m fairly certain I tore something in my right quad.
Things are not all bad. There have been small victories. Small steps in the right direction. A goal I have been working on for years --to give in to small indulgences without binging-- has finally become my norm. Last week I managed to enjoy just one bite of a homemade cupcake. Last night my father brought me over a bag full of homemade almond cookies, of which I had only one. The rest are tucked safely away in the back of my freezer.
Honestly, I don’t know if I’m getting better or worse. I am much more happy. Much more content. That’s something, right?
