There is a part in John Krakauer's non-fiction book Into the Wild (great
book, shitty movie) in which he describes the contents of his subject's
journal. His subject is a kid named Chris McCandless who in 1992 as a
24-year old gave away almost all his possessions and set out to
basically "walk the Earth". He ended up in the Alaskan wilderness where
he squatted for a while in an abandon bus before falling ill and dying,
likely from eating a misidentified toxic root.
Krakauer mentions how his journal starts out discussing a wide range of
topics before evolving into just a list of the things he ate that day.
The point being that although McCandless probably intended to have some
sort of spiritual journey, it basically turned into little more than an
exercise in survival. Procuring food was his entire life.
These days, S and I are sorta feeling like this, only it's not about getting food, it's about not getting food. We're dieting, and it's becoming almost an all-consuming thing, much more so for S than me; she's doing some sort of "ideal protein" diet that's super restrictive about what you can eat until you reach your target weight. I wouldn't say she's enjoying it, but she's doing well with it. She certainly has my deepest sympathy. I know from my wrestling days how much it sucks to eat like that. It makes you feel irritable and enervated all day. I used to cut about 25 pounds going into each season, and I was already lean and mean from training all summer. (My senior year I was the 168-lb. champion of the South Puget Sound League, South Division, I might add.) When my wrestling "career" finally came to an end, my first impulse was "good now I can eat like a normal fucking human again".
So I don't have the bottle for a hard-core diet like S is doing. But I'm doing my own diet, and I'm trying to legitimately do it, not just say I'm going to do it and then pig out like I always do. The thing is, I don't really need a diet that badly, but I've crept up solidly over two-bills for the first time ever, and while I was back in WA I saw a few old friends sporting brand new big bellies, and that's motivation enough for me to nip my medium-sized belly in the bud. Plus, if S is eating a raw cucumber and plain tofu for dinner every night and I'm mowing down a cheese platter and French fries, things might get a bit rocky in the G & G household. So my diet is basically protein and vegetables, no snack food, no sweets, no soda, no juice, no beer, little dairy, almost no carbs and sugar, small portions. That's it. I give myself one cheat day per week where I can have a cold one or a slice of pizza. I figured this is OK as it will significantly increase the probability of me being faithful to the diet the other days of the week. In fact, I've been thinking of discussing with S the idea of a cheat day in our marriage. I'll let you know how it goes.
In other news of necessary human activities, I've been TIRED lately. This has nothing to with diet, it has everything to do with baby. We've been sleep training him using something called the Ferber Method (ask S, it's her idea), and it's going remarkably well, but it means he's waking up at 6:00 a.m. now, and he's just "up". S goes to work early, so it's on me to watch him. He used to want to snooze for a while with Daddy, but not so much anymore. Now he wants to play. And I can't just wall off a section next to the bed, let him go to town, and go back to sleep either (believe me I've tried); he'll somehow get into something he's not supposed to or he'll pester me or he'll start throwing a fit. Whatever the case, I'm awake. And I've found waking up earlier doesn't make me go to bed earlier. It just makes me tired.
Finally, I'll leave you with an odd anecdote about taking a dump. The other day I'm in one of two stalls in a bathroom in my office building, and I hear two other people come into the room, one right after the other, and the first guy takes the stall next to me. (I assume the other guy is using a urinal.) Normally having somebody in the neighboring stall prompts me to finish and evacuate the premises ASAP, but I was laying some serious cable, so I stuck around (and stunk around! Haha... Good one, D). About five minutes go by, I'm finally done, so I get up and leave the stall and literally bump into the third guy. He wasn't using a urinal at all. He's just been standing there quietly in the bathroom waiting for one of the stalls to open up. And not just standing there, but practically hugging the stalls like he's worried somebody is going to cut him in line. It was really strange, especially so since there are three other bathrooms in the building and rarely is a single stall in use in any of them, let alone both stalls in one at once. It's not like the guy was having an emergency; he was just waiting patiently -- waiting patiently in a box filled with somebody else's butt funk for his chance to go into a smaller box filled with even more butt funk. Like I said, strange.
Until next time...
These days, S and I are sorta feeling like this, only it's not about getting food, it's about not getting food. We're dieting, and it's becoming almost an all-consuming thing, much more so for S than me; she's doing some sort of "ideal protein" diet that's super restrictive about what you can eat until you reach your target weight. I wouldn't say she's enjoying it, but she's doing well with it. She certainly has my deepest sympathy. I know from my wrestling days how much it sucks to eat like that. It makes you feel irritable and enervated all day. I used to cut about 25 pounds going into each season, and I was already lean and mean from training all summer. (My senior year I was the 168-lb. champion of the South Puget Sound League, South Division, I might add.) When my wrestling "career" finally came to an end, my first impulse was "good now I can eat like a normal fucking human again".
So I don't have the bottle for a hard-core diet like S is doing. But I'm doing my own diet, and I'm trying to legitimately do it, not just say I'm going to do it and then pig out like I always do. The thing is, I don't really need a diet that badly, but I've crept up solidly over two-bills for the first time ever, and while I was back in WA I saw a few old friends sporting brand new big bellies, and that's motivation enough for me to nip my medium-sized belly in the bud. Plus, if S is eating a raw cucumber and plain tofu for dinner every night and I'm mowing down a cheese platter and French fries, things might get a bit rocky in the G & G household. So my diet is basically protein and vegetables, no snack food, no sweets, no soda, no juice, no beer, little dairy, almost no carbs and sugar, small portions. That's it. I give myself one cheat day per week where I can have a cold one or a slice of pizza. I figured this is OK as it will significantly increase the probability of me being faithful to the diet the other days of the week. In fact, I've been thinking of discussing with S the idea of a cheat day in our marriage. I'll let you know how it goes.
[Mathew Modine in Vision Quest]
In other news of necessary human activities, I've been TIRED lately. This has nothing to with diet, it has everything to do with baby. We've been sleep training him using something called the Ferber Method (ask S, it's her idea), and it's going remarkably well, but it means he's waking up at 6:00 a.m. now, and he's just "up". S goes to work early, so it's on me to watch him. He used to want to snooze for a while with Daddy, but not so much anymore. Now he wants to play. And I can't just wall off a section next to the bed, let him go to town, and go back to sleep either (believe me I've tried); he'll somehow get into something he's not supposed to or he'll pester me or he'll start throwing a fit. Whatever the case, I'm awake. And I've found waking up earlier doesn't make me go to bed earlier. It just makes me tired.
Finally, I'll leave you with an odd anecdote about taking a dump. The other day I'm in one of two stalls in a bathroom in my office building, and I hear two other people come into the room, one right after the other, and the first guy takes the stall next to me. (I assume the other guy is using a urinal.) Normally having somebody in the neighboring stall prompts me to finish and evacuate the premises ASAP, but I was laying some serious cable, so I stuck around (and stunk around! Haha... Good one, D). About five minutes go by, I'm finally done, so I get up and leave the stall and literally bump into the third guy. He wasn't using a urinal at all. He's just been standing there quietly in the bathroom waiting for one of the stalls to open up. And not just standing there, but practically hugging the stalls like he's worried somebody is going to cut him in line. It was really strange, especially so since there are three other bathrooms in the building and rarely is a single stall in use in any of them, let alone both stalls in one at once. It's not like the guy was having an emergency; he was just waiting patiently -- waiting patiently in a box filled with somebody else's butt funk for his chance to go into a smaller box filled with even more butt funk. Like I said, strange.
Until next time...
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