One small step for mankind, one giant ‘hanumanasana’ leap for me

75 Minute Intermediate Class (Focus on Hanumanasana) p2

Friday.

I can’t remember a Friday when I have not had a glass of wine – oh yes I can, during the Primal Junction challenge – but before then I cant remember one I haven’t had a drink much less exercised.

Tonight is my first strong flow. Where the ultimate goal is to reach full splits.

As soon as Kristiarne told us this as we checked in for the class, Nisha and I exchanged a worried glance and raised eyebrows.

It’s the journey, Kristairne reassured us. Don’t worry.

As Nisha said, that’s going to be a long journey for us.

For me, who has only just learnt to touch my toes, whose hips still ache and knees inwardly bend at odd angles, it’s going to be a tough one.

Apparently the journey involves us using two blocks for support, which was fine until the class got so full we had to surrender one of our already claimed blocks to the later comers, or those who were not quick enough to snatch two.

I gave mine to Haydn. Probably a mistake in hindsight given his increased flexibility to begin with and his previous gymnastic experience.

His handstand walking at crossfit today made my attempt at kicking my legs overhead, much less walking, well, laughable. Plus he can sumo squat more than double his weight, so not sure why he needs a block to hold him up.

Anyway, I gave it to him. Odds are it won’t be the fact I am down to only one block that stops me from doing the splits. I have a better chance of splitting something.

I’m in the first row tonight. Nisha has dragged me here kicking and screaming so we can review our posture closer to the mirror. I’m not sure I like it. It’s too close. Especially if the destination is full splits, or as we are told ‘hanumanasana’ (hah-new-mahn-AHS-anna). 

Before attempting this peek pose we were told a story of a monkey-faced king, Rama, of India whose wife, Sita, was abducted by an evil demon king of Sri Lanka, Ravana. Like any good war story a battle followed and according to Wikipedia Rama’s brother was severely injured and his life could only be saved by a magical herb that only grew, alas, on the Himalayas and was an impossible journey given the time required to bring the herb back to save Rama’s brother, Laksamana.  

Enter the story’s hero, Hunuman, who was devoted to Rama and so took it upon himself to take the leap from India to the Himalayas, where unsure what herb to pick, he instead strapped the entire mountain on his back.

“It was the greatest leap ever taken. The speed of Hanuman’s jump pulled blossoms and flowers into the air after him and they fell like little stars on the waving treetops. The animals on the beach had never seen such a thing; they cheered Hanuman, then the air burned from his passage, and red clouds flamed over the sky . . .” (Ramayana, retold by William Buck).

Of course he made it back in time, saved Laksamana, rescued Rama and everyone lived happily ever after.

After I went through the motions, I am sure Laksamana, Rama and Sita were well glad they had someone with Hanuman’s flexibility, leg length and strength on their side instead of my own..

No block was required, because well, there was just no way I was getting anywhere close to leaping over my mat much less over a country or two.

I took a sneaky glance at Hadyn and noticed he was in full splits.

Without his block.

I really wanted to go home and have a glass of wine.

Saturday

I have never spent so much time in front of a mirror as I have since starting yoga.

It’s a bit confronting.

Not so much during the practice, but the time I spend in the room before is defiantly. I find myself staring at my own arms, wondering if they are any closer to Michelle Bridges.

Tonight, when I take a break from the scribble on my page and look up, catching a glance of my seated position, I almost think they do. But then I realize I have taken my glasses off and am probably looking at somebody else.

If anything my arms look a little too wide.

I’m prepping for the triple-header today.

My hips are a little cranky after last nights failed leap attempt. Fair to say the journey to find full splits might be over before it has really begun for me.

Laksamana must have had really long legs.

I’m also still recovering from my eating mishap yesterday when I ransacked cake and forgot my sugar free self.  Maybe that is why my arms look too wide.

Today sees a few familiar faces, a few new ones. I’m back in my regular, almost comforting place waiting for Nisha who I know will want to change to be closer to the front, but with or without glasses I know my arms are not like Michelle Bridges just yet, and after my embarrassing attempt at  ‘hanumanasana’ it’s safer in my corner.

After today’s triple-header I should be back on track to success.

Thank god.

If I continue the daily ritual, with a Thursday double and either a double or triple next Saturday then I should be far enough in front for the final weekend when I will also be away, and actually pass the challenge.

Knowing I would be starving by 11:30 I ate yoghurt with my paleo Primal Junction muesli, and washed it down with a long black before I came.

Not sure it was the best idea to have dairy before yoga, but I’ve been craving it lately and didn’t have time to cook eggs.

I also made a smoothie, spinach, banana, berry and chia seeds, although again I failed by putting it in the freezer and it’s not yet ready to drink.

I’m a little tired, maybe ill have a nap in meditation….

Sunday

I’m back baby! Back on track!!

I’m pretty chuffed with myself for making it back from so far behind.

I might even be ahead!!!

Mind you, I’m paying for it.

My legs are sore, my hips ache, I have a bruise on my butt that I think is from crossfit and hurts every time I rock and roll my way up to seated position, and my shoulders burn through my vinyasa flow.

And I’m exhausted.

It’s my 10th class for the week.

10 classes in 7 days.

Of course there was a Yin through in, and mediation yesterday, but either way that is a lot of airtime, dedication, flexing, stretching and sweating I have left on the mat this week.

So much so I have caught up. Am not a follower but back with the pack, a real challenger.

Thank goodness, if I was putting my hips through this for nothing I would be well pissed.

The mat placement etiquette seems to have been lost a little today. I thought about trying a different position but it’s a little bit creative, not straight lines, all higgledy piggledy and I couldn’t quite find the right area for Nisha and I to set up somewhere new.

Nisha is hung over. She is getting ready to sweat out all the bad boy toxins she consumed last night.

Me, I had one glass of red wine and it was enough to send me to sleep.  I didn’t even make my eyelids stay open for the last ten minutes of Carlton versus Essendon.

See, exhausted.

My body hurts and my entire being was cursing when the alarm went off this morning.

It’s Sunday! Rest Day!! Are you mad woman!!?? Shut that thing off!!!??

 

Sorry scary Stacey, you will have to stop poking me with your pitchfork because I am getting up.

My thought process before class today.

I really had to sumo slam the negative Stacey down, the one who was responsible for me eating cake. She had Friday, she was not having Sunday too!

It’s been a tough week.

Nisha felt like this week one. I am sure others did also. Tired, struggling, a little overwhelmed because maybe this entire challenge thing was taken bit too easily, with a little bit too much self confidence.

Week 1 challengers were all feeling like that while I was away for work, drinking wine, eating steak and sleeping in.

But now it’s my turn.

Maybe some others are feeling like me this week.  Maybe not, maybe everyone else is great as they are already well on their way in week two, and they prepared themselves.

Today Nisha said she defiantly felt stronger than she did before starting the challenge – which is great. She looks stronger, and I know she can touch her toes now. Her leap to the Himalayas was longer than mine, and she thought I was the flexible one.

I just feel like I have lost more sweat than my body weight, and are more tired than I normally am.  My arms are no closer to Michelle Bridges and my thighs area still causing me grief. So much grief I need to visit Lulu this week for some more suitable clothing.

Cleary I am also complaining more than I normally would. Or perhaps I always complain a lot and have not realised it…

Hopefully it’s not just me, that other challenger goers are having a mid mental breakdown too.  That other challengers are surprised at how much they hurt, how much they sweat, how stiff they can be and how tired at the end of a day.

On the positive – I am also surprised at much I like yoga.

How important it is for me to keep my fingers pointed at the roof, that my legs are in the right position. How hard I try to keep my elbows in during forward plank before going through my flow routine. How happy I was when Kacey mentioned I had good alignment in my vinyasa flow.

So while I am complaining (a fair bit) I am enjoying this challenge and my introduction to yoga. If I wasn’t I would have thrown in the mat by now and just moved on. Eaten more cake and not thought about it again.

But I really do like it, which means I really do want to succeed at this challenge.

So back to the mat ill go tomorrow. And the next day, and the day after that…

It’s one small step for mankind, one giant ‘hanumanasana’ leap for those of us in the challenge.

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The Primal Challenge Day 26 & 27

I’m never going Paleo. My exact words not even six months ago when I told a friend I was going to try crossfit. It’s a cult. She told me. I’ve lost another friend to the crossfit cult. Next thing I know, you’ll being going Paleo.

I looked at her, arched my eyebrows the creases in my forehead emphasized and with hands on hips scowled at her. I will never go Paelo. NEVER. I love potato too much, and pasta. And I drink. I could never not drink.  You know me. I told her. I believe everything in moderation, I don’t believe in cutting out foods, especially entire food groups.

Looks like I’m wiping off the remains of a happy smiling healthy egg from my face.

Not that it was planned. If you asked me in March when I eventually did try and join a crossfit gym (Hawthorn East was the second one I tried, the first almost put me off which shows how great the community is we have at CFHE) I would still have told you the same thing. I’m not getting caught up in this cult like mentality and never going paleo.

You know I think crossfit is a cult. Another friend told me at boxing this morning.

I can safely say, the cult like mentality is a myth. You can spend as much or as little time at CFHE as you want to. You can train as hard as you want to, as often as you like. I have seen a few come and go, then return. And there are the regulars too. The morning crew and the night crew come together on Saturday’s or at events such as the Primal Junction Seminar, or this Saturday’s screening of the Crossfit Games. But either way, no matter what group you fall into, each coach will remember your name and welcome you with a smile.

But unlike a cult, they also let you leave. After all, they have lives too – outside of the box.

I think most of my friends have also realised they haven’t ‘lost me’ to crossfit. I still go out, I still do ‘normal’ things. While I have been dry this July, I have still joined in social activities and I try not to talk about clean and jerks with non-crossfit people.

And the paleo….. well on that one I will be happy to eat my words. As long as they are sugar free, cooked with coconut oil and completely free range.

It’s not like I meant it. To be honest, I’m not sure what really drove me to sign up for the challenge to being with. But here I am day 26, and so far not really thinking too much about going back to the way things were before. I’m quite happy being paleo and have embraced it so much I’m meeting my ‘almost always’ paleo friend for brunch tomorrow at a paleo restaurant. I’ve even managed to convince my husband to join (although not sure what he will do when he finds out there will not be any bread on the menu, or tomato sauce to go with his eggs…)

Of course there are things I still miss.

Today when I was getting a coffee before my market shop I eyed off the buttery croissants and salted caramel tart with a little bit of envy.

And talk of potato’s still hits a nerve. Any potatoes. Roasted, mashed, smashed, baked. I love loved them all.

And corn. Steamed corn heaped with butter and salt and pepper. Yes it stuck in your teeth, spat juice in your eye and ran down your chin, but that was half the fun.

And cheese. Soft cheese, hard cheese. It was my favorite, all time snack or pre dinner staple when guests were coming. Not blue cheese, not even expensive smelly well aged cheese. Just cheese.

There will be a day I eat all of those things again. Just not today. Or tomorrow. Or, maybe, even after day 30.

And wine. I still love wine. And vodka. And gin. And cocktails. And because I’m strong enough to ignore the bottle of white in the door of the drinks fridge, and can walk past a bottle shop without walking in, I know I will drink again, and there will be times when I wont.

And I miss the flexibility. Of eating out mostly. At home its fine, and when I have control of my meals is great and I enjoy it and enjoy cooking something new. But when faced with a menu not that paleo friendly, it can be a challenge.

I miss being able to just order from the menu and not have your friends exchange glances and the waiter roll their eyes to the chef behind the menu when they think you cant see them. I miss going to the football and being able to pack a roll or order a hamburger if I got stuck  – although if Buddy Franklin is going to kick eight and the Hawks demolish the dons, i can live with having to take the extra time to pack my salad.

But back to the ordering out. I’m sure everyone knows what I mean. When they put on a fake smile and raise their eyebrows. Or they look you up and down before looking at the menu to see where you are pointing. Or they just look at you, and know no matter how much tip you are going to leave them, you simply are not worth the trouble.

If that’s the attitude they give me, like the waitress in the Geelong Edge restaurant on Tuesday night, then you get NO tip. I mean its really not that hard to change lentils that would be premade for a salad, to not put the dressing on and don’t cook with butter.

So don’t stare at me like I have two heads, or as if I am an alien from another planet, or as if I have just asked you to wipe my salmon on the bin, spit on it and then serve it to me.

I actually have asked for quite the opposite, for a CLEAN meal.

So let’s hope tonight, when I meet friends for dinner I don’t cop any anti menu change attitude. As the only one not drinking and already slightly stressed after looking at the menu given I’m not sure how I can change much of it, it will be the last straw. Even the steak comes with things I can’t pronounce which makes me worried. If I don’t know what it is, then how will I ask to change it?? And if I do, and they give me attitude, how can I prevent the eye rolling if I am already uneducated by something called chickpea zimino – cant you just say chickpeas with tomatoes and peppers? And if cavolo nero is kale, why cant you just print that!!??

Maybe this is why I said I was never going paleo…

 

The Primal Challange Day 24

I was reminded yesterday that some people eat simply because they like the taste. Sounds obvious enough, but I had forgotten this when I wrote yesterdays’ post, or maybe I just wasn’t clear enough.

Sure I like the taste of lots of food and that’s probably half to the reason I eat. I probably like more than I dislike, and I don’t want to eat something I dislike, but luckily enough I have never been someone who likes the taste so much they couldn’t stop… or so I thought. That was before the nuts.

I mean I could eat a piece of cake and put the rest back and not have to touch it again until the following day or even a few after. I could open a pack of Tim Tam’s and only have one. A bag of lollies could last me for weeks. I still have chocolate bunnies and eggs in my pantry leftover from Easter. When I was a kid I used to hide the treats around my room so I didn’t eat them all at once. It was a practice I put in place because treats were rare in our house growing up. Lolly bags were shared (and between six you don’t get much out of one bag) and when Easter came, or Santa filled a stocking with sweets, I made that supply of sugar last months. Sometimes I would even forget about what I had where and it would go to waste.

Lucky I know. Not everyone is like this. I have friends who cannot stop thinking about that chocolate cake until it’s finished, that open a packet of biscuits and have to eat the entire lot before they can rest, who have to give away Christmas shortbreads because if they are in the house then they will eat them all. They wake up thinking about food and go to sleep dreaming of it.

Shit, I can hear some of you thinking. That’s me.

Maybe that is why, largely, I have found the challenge relatively easy and very fulfilling. Although I am quite mentally strong and fiercely competitive (my blog bagging brother would say it is all in the mind – the same comment he tried to pep his wife up with before their daughter was born. Thank god she had to have a planned cesarean in the end) and once I decide to do something then I don’t like others trying to tell me I can’t do it.

That’s not to say if I was in land of Oompa Loompas and was swimming in Willy Wonka’s chocolate stream I wouldn’t take a sip, bite the nearest flower and chase a strawberry bunny for dinner. I really wanted to try that bubblegum, and the gobstoper and everything else those kids were seduced with into the pit of social gratitude failure.

And if suddenly the world went a little lopsided and I woke up there tomorrow, fiercely orange, wearing strange stripy overalls and half my height, then the challenge would easily be forgotten and my candy mushroom house would be eaten in a flash.

But today, no such luck. I woke up in my normal bed, no golden ticket in my hand and went about my day with boring normality.

Completed the Crossfit Games WOD number three, went to work, showered.  Managed to do up my back zipper dress myself without two colleagues pinning me against the wall and using brute force to get it up (which happened the last time I wore it)– a sign I have lost some of the sugar fat I was carrying. I had my usual morning discussion with a fellow cross fitter on what my latest hang up is (inability to get double unders), warmed up egg & bacon 3.0 muffins, ate muffins, ordered long black, drank long black, tried not to snack on nuts until lunch, warmed up spicy pumpkin soup, ate soup, snacked on nuts, got long black to try and stop snacking on nuts, drunk long black, locked away nuts in filing cabinet to stop snacking on nuts, ate a handful of shredded chicken to try and not taste the nuts, unlocked filing cabinet and ate more nuts, made green tea to try and stop snacking on nuts.  Wished I didn’t have any more nuts, but at the same time planned on when I will go and buy more…

Of course there is some work done throughout all of this.

And the realization that actually, I am one of those people. If I open the lid of that Tupperware container, then I can’t stop until the nuts are finished along with the coconut, the seeds and the goji berries they swim in.

So yes, some people eat because they like the taste of food. My key learning today, is I am one of those people, and my vice is not the chocolate cake, the Tim Tams, the lollies or the sweets. It’s plain old nuts.

How many days to go?

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  • Nuts! (knitreadclick.wordpress.com)

The Primal Challenge Day 21

Apparently I am no fun when I am off the sugar and off the drink. Or so I was told on Saturday night when I refused cocktail after cocktail, champagne, punch, chocolates, cheesecake, gingerbread men and many other loveable naughty’s my Christmas in July offered.

I think I was a bit offended.

Actually I was.

Especially given I had wasted 12 hours on a Christmas pudding that managed to get water into it during the transfer between houses and ruin.  Yeah don’t get me started, epic fail. Its back hanging in my laundry hoping it can be saved but knowing it probably cant be, and who would eat it anyway…

But I digress – Christmas in July with the girls, Saturday night.

I still managed to last until 2am, completely sober and relatively sugar free – I ate some a bit too much fruit and as far as I could tell was still semi engaging in my conversation attempts and interactions. I still leapt to the challenge of Pictionary and Celebrity Heads and laughed over excitedly when those who were tipsy and those who were just blind drunk couldn’t hold the pen or draw a simple image.

No, I didn’t stand on a dining room chair and try to get everyone dancing. Nor did I spill red wine on the floor or dive into the chocolate cheesecake spoon in hand without waiting for it to be cut. Although I was the only one who broke a glass (of mineral water) all night.

But, as I was also told, I was no longer the life of the party. And who was going to play that role now?  I admit neither Pictionary nor Celebrity Heads would have come out on my watch.

Oh the pressure! The guilt! But I had carried the load of over excited behavior for too long and had paid the price with pounding next day headaches, a cramping stomach and often a cheeky next morning (most likely afternoon) spew.

Not tonight!

I picked my way through the meal, skipping the prawns with the Cajun spice, knowing sugar is a hidden ingredient on the list, eating a spoonful of the bruschetta mix without the bread, swallowed a few oysters, ignored the grilled halloumi and the smoked salmon and cream cheese wraps, and waited patiently for the main.

Roast pork with no gravy or apple sauce, steamed greens with almonds, roast chicken without the stuffing and roast vegetables minus the dressing and potatoes. Of course I knew and had to accept the fact that the oil was probably rancid and not the ideal choice for the challenge, but I did have to give a little.

Overall however, it wasn’t even that hard.

Nor was sticking to the mineral water. Not as hard as I thought it would be probably as there were a few others in the sober boat with me thanks to a) Run Melbourne the following day, b) the sacrifices of breast feeding c) knowing with three kids at home it just isn’t worth it the following day and d) a ‘most often’ paleo diet.

The hardest part of the night (apart from trying to guess my celebrity head Nigella Lawson and drawing an image that represented the world ‘gargle’) was accepting the change in my social tag from ‘party starter’ to ‘party pooper’.

And while one friend commended me on my effort, another said a bit of her rice bran oil wouldn’t hurt me, nor would one drink, a few stayed silent and the host pointed at me and slurred how boring I was. Lucky my ‘generally’ paleo friend had my back the entire night. Although she did take a tiny sliver of the chocolate cheesecake when I desperately wanted to and most likely would have if I was not on this challenge, making it that little bit harder.

I did get some great advice however during the meal of many choices by my ‘almost always’ paleo friend. Once you make your own choice, deal with it, own it, and then move on. If you want to eat the vegetables cooked in rice bran oil because you are hungry and there is no other alternative, just do it. If you have been clean eating all week and trained all month and really like the look of the cheesecake, eat it. But don’t go on about it all night. And don’t beat yourself up about it or let others beat you up about it. Make your choice, and live with it.

I think I needed it on day 21.

Not because I am struggling, but because there is not long left and now I’m at the stage of working out what I would keep and what I was add and what I would change of this clean eating plan. And if I want to eat a slice of the chocolate cheesecake that looks amazing (I took a giant piece home for my husband just so I could look at it) once my challenge is up then I can.

But if I want my skin fold tests to be better than when I went in, I need to stop eating the nuts hidden in my draw by the bucket load, stop thinking about what I would add back in my diet, and start thinking about what I still need to cut out.  At least for the next nine days.

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The Primal Challenge Day 13 & 14

The second weekend has come and gone and again I have survived! And while I ate like a cave man I didn’t hibernate like one. I went out – a few times, and took my new clean eating with me. Ok so no bars, just restaurants, so no real alcohol temptation – but still.

Friday night dinner  – no worries. Just give me a steak and a pile of greens and I would be happy. Thai was almost forgotten. I felt great for not drinking – well maybe just good – but it actually didn’t worry me.

When I ordered my food the slightly odd waiter with his thick Czech accent repeated it by saying (with a creepy smile) “I know what you want, steak, medium, salt, pepper, lots of greens, no butter, no oil, no gluten, no dairy…ok no worries. But one question, how you look like you do when you eat like that?”

It’s because I eat this way I look this way! I wanted to respond.

Because I have cut out sugar my skin is clearer, I did a PB in my last back squat, my arms are on their way to looking like Michelle Bridges, (random goal of mine) and my hair can last three to four days before I need to wash it (apart from the crossfit sweat).

And maybe if you tried it you would be able to too! I wanted to scream at him.

But I didn’t because he was bald, and slightly odd, and I hadn’t got my food yet, and in a strange sort of way he was trying to pick me up until a)my husband appeared next to me and b)an attractive brunette got his attention. Plus I don’t/didn’t want to sound like I have/had tickets on myself.

But it’s true. My skin really is clearer and for a 30 something that often gets a bout of teenage acne, this is quite a positive development and given the length of my hair, the less frequent hair washing is not only a big time saver, but also a big cash bonus.

That Friday night, my meal was actually the envy of the table.

Saturday (day 13) I replaced boxing with a trip to my newfound physio Alex from Evolutio, who has conveniently opened up a studio above the Crossfit Hawthorn East box.  Another bonus is Alex actually does and coaches crossfit so understands the sport and the movements.  Which also means he is not one of those physios who looks down on you, shakes their head with dismay and lectures you about how you could really hurt yourself doing crossfit for a full 20 minutes of your 30 minute appointment before actually treating you.

13 days in and I’ve well and truly turned into one of those don’t knock it till you try it people.

Saturday afternoon the Hawks came back with a great win (thank god) I snacked on a smoothie and some celery and carrot sticks, a few almonds and felt royally in control.

Although that control was short lived.

Carlton v St Kilda was only a few hours away and I was going (and was not really thrilled about it).

While my fridge was full of greens, my Cannings meat supply was out. The first inch of panic twitched in my legs when I realised there was not much in my old pantry I could mix with a salad and want to eat.

The supermarket (shudder) my only option.

I couldn’t face it myself so instead sent my now completely aware and strangely still supportive “although I think you are becoming obsessed” husband up with strict instructions.

Free range, organic chicken breast. Nothing added. No sauce.

Then to take my mind off his potential failure and my potential challenge doom I began my weekly food prep with Primal Junction’s spicy pumpkin soup recipe.

A SOS came in while I was still cutting the pumpkin.

Is it just free range or both organic and free range.

Both.

So not this Lilydale Chicken?

I don’t think so, what does the packet say?

At Lilydale, we are proud to farm free range chickens. 

All Lilydale chickens enjoy a nutritious, vitamin enriched natural diet; have access to the outdoors during the day and are free from growth promoters and antibiotics.

Hmm, nothing about what they eat?

No?

What’s the other option?

Inglewood Farms, Organic Free Range Chicken

That sounds better.

Its $15 for two chicken breasts!

Silence.

Are you there?

More silence.

Ok ill get this one.

And while we almost had to take out a second mortgage for my two chicken breasts, I must admit it was worth it. My thyme chicken salad was a winner at the football and so was Carlton meaning my husband forgot about the emptiness of his wallet with the happiness of the result.

Sunday (day 14) afternoon I watched others snack on party pies, sausage rolls and chicken nuggets trying to hold back the vomit in my throat (well not really vomit, but distaste) and every now and then popping in a snide comment about how much sugar was in their latest blob of tomato sauce.

Eventually after the third or fourth person glared at me with irritation, and about the same time the chocolate birthday cake was being cut, I stopped and let them enjoy their lunch.

Note to others – Please don’t let me turn into one of those people.

Light bulb moment and note to self – don’t turn into a superficial, high and mighty, and all judging pain in the arse. Its only day 14 and if you think you’ll never eat another piece of cake in your life, you are kidding yourself.

Then I prepped for the week. I prepped a lot.

I made two different smoothies (ok the first one didn’t last the weekend which is why I had to do the second), spicy pumpkin soup (but I used water no stock as i couldn’t find a no sugar one), bacon and vegetable frittata and a pot of clean pasta sauce with some carrot and zucchini.

My fridge was loaded and my freezer stocked, and I was set for this week. Week three!

It also provided me with another light bulb moment.

I don’t miss pasta – I missed the pasta sauce.

I tried the Primal Junction zucchini spaghetti recipe and hardly noticed my noodles were carrot and zucchini instead of penne or spaghetti. It was the rich tomato and garlic flavor with mince and Italian herbs that I looked forward to on Sunday nights and I still got that – all of that.

But I got it without sugar and without carbo loading on cheap wheat.

Why did I wait so long to try this?!

Oh that’s right I don’t have a julienne slicer and had to cut all my vegetables by hand which took me a long time, and before this challenge had no idea I could substitute pasta for something and still love it.

Perfect pasta without the penne!

Wining.

Plus when my sugar craving kicked in after dinner as others around me had strawberries and ice cream with chocolate topping for dessert I had a cup of left over smoothie and felt satisfied.

So Sunday night, the second Sunday night, and I was ready to face the week head one. Breakfast – frittata and smoothie, lunch – soup and left over ‘pasta’. Plus I had reserves for a salad if things went pear shaped and the other $7.50 chicken breast in the waiting  – better not leave that waiting too long would hate to throw it out and waste the home loan payment.

Primal Junction Challenge Day 14 which means –  I’m almost half way there……

Lessons Learned –

  • Don’t buy your organic, free-range meat from a supermarket if you want to pay off your mortgage this decade.

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The Primal Challenge Day 2

Last night I dreamt of chocolate cake.

I was stuffing a slab of moist goodness down my throat when someone pointed out to me that chocolate cake contained sugar. I threw the cake on the ground in disgust where it lay dormant among piles of half eaten pieces and crumbs previously discarded.

It was a ridiculous dream, because I don’t normally eat chocolate cake to begin with and of course I know it contains sugar. But something in my subconscious was warning me. I’m so scared of tripping up and jumping to the dark side, even without realizing it, that I have momentarily put away the apron and stopped – much to my team’s disgust given I have been promising them a cake for over a week – baking.

My homemade delights have been put on hold, just in case I go to lick the spoon or taste the icing, or worse still that one muffin or cupcake will come out all wrong and I will be tempted to taste it to ensure it’s till moist inside and suitable for sharing.  Sorry team, it’s just too soon.

Breakfast was hard enough.

I realized in a panic yesterday afternoon that Tuesday bought not one but two meal’s that involved eating out – someone else cooking them for me and taking away my control. The first a baby shower breakfast.

I rushed over to my sister, who happened to be organizing the said gathering, with fear stricken eyes and panic in my voice and blurted out something about needing to give dietary requirements for the breakfast.

She looked at me with scorn in her eyes – Why, what cant you eat? She spat, her voice was laced with irritability.

I looked at her with nervous apprehension. Despite being sisters we look nothing alike, yet this could have been me a week ago. Arched eyebrows, narrowed, scorn filled eyes. That look of – really, you are doing THAT diet!?

I can eat eggs and bacon.

Well it might be too late, it’s a buffet.

Just no dairy, no gluten or grains. If it’s too hard ill work it out.

So like my boyfriend, everything he CANT eat you are CHOOSING not to.

Yes (said meekly)

I’ll call them to see.

I went home and made a frittata just in case. Bacon, egg, tomato, leek and zucchini. A full 12 happy healthy eggs with smiling faces that almost winked at me with joy as I cracked them open and added them to the bowl.

Lucky I did.

The breakfast of what not to eat. Plates of blueberry and orange muffins, so light and moist they almost danced on the plate. Scones, still warm from the oven, lightly buttered sour dough toast, my favorite fruit toast. Full fat cream, honey, processed full of sugar strawberry jam.  Fruit. All sweet fruit, strawberry’s, melon, kiwi fruit. And my all time buttery favorite – croissants.

It was paraded before me, each item vying for my attention. Perhaps the waitress was tipped off, as she seemed to only ever find empty places right in front of me where she proceeded to mercilessly dump the food, and just like those happy, healthy eggs, the muffins and croissants seemed to wink at me, beckoning me to come closer. There was not one egg or piece of bacon in sight.

I ate five red grapes and two long blacks and smelt all the sugary goodness with a smile. Tried to forget the chocolate cake that still gnawed at my subconscious and instead thought of the clean eating, happy egg frittata I had waiting in the office fridge.

Egg’s had never tasted so good.

Especially after 100 kettle bell swings in this morning’s WOD and a skin fold test that left me with pen marks randomly drawn on my body – thanks Bec ;).

A few slabs – I mean pieces – of frittata and I was back to myself. Meal plan complete and I had passed the first test of eating out, by not really eating.

My next test – only a few meals away – dinner out tonight with colleagues. A steak restaurant so should be ok, but dinner with colleagues normally includes wine, and entrée and dessert and… oh boy. Let’s hope there is no chocolate cake on the menu….

Breakfast frittaa2 frittata