Thursday, January 30

Nutrition: Today I am feeling grateful for the acne that comes from eating junk food. I nabbed three Reese's Pieces off a cookie this morning, and I was legitimately feeling thissssssclose to eating the entire cookie. I can't even imagine how much junk I'd inhale regularly if I noticed zero reaction to it. (All Teh Junk Foodz!)

I ordered a bunch of stuff from StrongerFasterHealthier. Went for the fish oil, got distracted by the shiny endurance-based stuff:
It's worth a shot...and basically free shipping with the Whole9 10% discount. I gotta try something different, why not a little science? W9 peeps recommend this brand of fish oil as tip-top, so I am assuming their other products are also high-quality. I have to log 7 more runs over 1.5 hours (including Boston) that absolutely require a smart nutrition strategy...let's hope this is it.

Sleep: 8.25 hours in bed, 845p-5a, 95% quality. Woke when hubs came home at 1130a, and woke naturally & dozed about 430a onward. Got up feeling fairly rested, but also would have loved more.

Healthy Movement: Still feeling stiff & sore, mostly from squats, but I doubt yesterday's sprints helped. Where is my recovery?! (Hence, the nutrition purchase.)

Have decided to only do the ROUS group run distance on Saturday; it's still 9.3 miles, plenty "long" in my mind, just not the 2:20 that I had on my original plan. But, given my poor recovery from, oh, everything, this week, it doesn't seem worth it to push myself longer and potentially have yet another shitty run that destroys my confidence for the following week, potentially starting a domino effect like the last few winters.

So, maybe I have to deload every other week like some stupid delicate flower...who cares? I'm not trying to run a PR at Boston, I'm just trying to cross the finish line uninjured. I don't have to be a rock star. I must remember this. And I should stop paying any attention to the freaks like Shawn S who's going to run 100 fucking miles this weekend. I'm not her, and I don't even want to be her...I want to bench her! (So why does it frustrate me that I can't do what she does?!)

Session was about the same as the past few weeks have been: performance is decent, not stellar, but not bad, but my brain & physical feeling is mostly junky. Tired of feeling leaving NSS feeling disappointed - it's nice that my numbers are still good, but I don't lift in order to tell people I'm strong, I lift in order to FEEL strong. And right now, frankly, I feel like shit.

Did a yoga video after work, and my upper back was so effing tight I couldn't lower into Crocodile position without pain. WTF!

Fun & Play: Coffee break with my Buddy. Tomorrow off. Carolla talk in my session. Chatting with Holea.

Stress Management: Turned on tomorrow's out-of-office auto-reply, and realized I haven't taken a full day off since before Thanksgiving: two months. Two incredibly high-stress months (year-end, winter, elimination diet testing, begin Boston training...the only stress I'm missing is the tax firm!) during which I haven't taken a single day off despite a backlog of PTO? Oh, and that day off in November was to deep-clean the house before hosting Thanksgiving. Jeebus, I'm an idiot. So before I left, I booked three more days of PTO, at the end of February & March. Sanity-saving days, I hope.

Feeling bothered by my health results at work. High cholesterol, no surprise. But also a waist girth of 34" that puts me at the bottom of the "over fat" range. I want to punch someone.

Finally, after literally FIVE YEARS obsessing about my size every motherfucking day, I feel mostly accepting of my body; yes I want to be leaner, but I'm aware my body seems to be very happy, since it's always pulling me back to this approximate weight, which means it's healthy, which is what I need most of all, especially right now. And that acceptance has left my BRAIN so much healthier, I can't even tell you.

I mean, unless you've been down the same dark twisted rabbit hole of obsession, to the point that it ruled every aspect of every moment of your life, I seriously CAN'T tell you; and if you've been there, then obviously I don't NEED to tell you.

And yet, now you're telling me that I'm over fat? FUCK YOU.

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