Yesternight’s Workout:

 

x5

The Slow Burn

(Every exercise is to be done slowly and deliberately,
focusing on form and balance.)

5 hip flexor dips (L/R)
10 up-and-overs (formerly called leg lift and lower)
1 min plank
1 min reverse plank
10 sumo squats
10 hindu pushups

 

We made it through all five rounds, wutwut!

Yesternight’s Workout:

 

Well, Thursday’s workout, to be exact:

x5

11 burpees
11 leg lifts
11 spiderman pushups
11 toes-to-bar
11 hindu pushups
1 min reverse plank/standard plank

 

Ohhhh, this was a wobbly-maker.
We were bobbing and weaving all over the place
with those burpees by the third round!

Tonight’s workout is going to be more on the legs side, methinks.

On the Difficulties of Restriction:

 

Which sounds way more hoity-toity than it actually is.

I went to a follow up appointment with my doctor,
and found out that nothing is Actually Wrong with Me.

My body is just being a dick.

All of my blood tests came back completely normal,
with a little bit of, “oh, you need more vitamin D,
and should probably take fish oil”.

So the being sick after eating at any restaurant,
the violent reaction to soy,
the struggling to keep salad down?

Ain’t no thing.

SO.
ANNOYING.

Consequently,
my doctor recommended that I go gluten-free for six months.

I’m currently trying it out for two weeks.

 

‘Coz here’s the bitch about eliminating an entire (and large!)
food group from my diet:

I’m recovering from a ten year eating disorder.
Restricting is a really bad plan.

And because,
hello,
my brain is broken when it comes to food,
my first reaction upon being told to go gluten-free
was to feel guilty about the food that I’ve been eating.

If I had been good,
I wouldn’t be sick.

If I had been eating less,
I wouldn’t be sick.

If I had stuck to a handful of almonds and a piece of fruit in the morning,
I wouldn’t be sick.

If I weren’t eating things like whole-grain english muffins,
I would be skinny.

In my brain,
she was telling me this because
I am a bad person.

(Welcome to the eating disordered mind, people.)

All of which makes just trying out gluten-free
a daunting task.

It’s not really because I think gluten-free bread tastes like a moldy paper cup.

It’s because I feel like I’ve been bad,
and if I hadn’t been,
I wouldn’t be dealing with this.

It sucks.

 

ps (And? No more saltines when I’m sick? *tears*)

Dear Frisee:

 

Seriously.

Get out of my salad.

You’re like trying to eat a moldy porcupine.

 

I like my vitamin A without a side of tongue poking,
thankyouverymuch.

 
xoxo

 
Becca

 

Evil Endive.

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An Ode:

To Botulism:

O, thou fatally swollen bride of bacteria!
Thou foster-child of silence and dark cupboards!
Groceried historian, who canst thus express
An intestinal tale more firmly than thy hordes!

What spore-fringed legend haunts about thy tins,
Of hospitals, or IVs, or of both,
In Wal-Mart or the dales of discount bins?

BURSTING with NATURAL antioxidants!

Best Used by October 1999????

BURSTING with BOTULISM!

(Seriously, packing some of The Boyo’s cupboards is like going on an archaeological expedition…)

Wednesday Weirds:

Straight from Venice Beach,
we bring you….WOLF HAUS!!!

creepy 80s house...wait for it...

!!!

I’m just curious–what was going through this homeowner’s mind?

“Mah vet dream ahv concrete und glahss es rehalized!
But eet meeeeses sumzing…vas…vas…Ach! Ja!

VOLVES!!!!”

(at least, i hope that's how the internal monologue went.)

'I find this posing business particularly onerous,' he seemed to say.

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