Did not post yesterday for a couple of reasons. Swamped at work with supervisors swarming all about (it was a poor month sales-wise), laden with errands on the way home, guests over the house until 8 pm (my wife’s aunt and uncle visiting from Texas, whom she’s never met), clean-up and getting children in bed and whatnot.
Oh, and a particularly nasty day-long headache, resulting, I’d like to think, from the Transitional Raw Foods Diet, day 3.
What happens on the TRFD? Well, your body is starting to get wholesome, healthy foods into it. Tons of fruits and vegetables, and comparatively sparse amounts of starches and meats. You’re drinking plenty of water. Things start happening then. Your body begins its housecleaning. Your levels of toxicity rise as the body struggles to flush out the junk that you’ve been putting into it on a consistent basis over your lifetime. Initially, it’s just the crap you’ve ingested over the past four or five days. Then, your body goes to work on eliminating the more … permanent waste disposal centers of your body, located in your intestines.
At least, in theory. And for me, over the past three days, in practice. I’ve had a nagging headache, felt achy in my joints, still succumbing to fatigue without sleep. Cravings for fried food in particular (I’ve really wanted some of those boneless spare ribs you get at Chinese restaurants, which I probably haven’t had in years). Yesterday, my headache was so bad that the only way I could function was to focus and do whatever was facing me at that moment, be it distraught bosses, after-work errands, or familiar strangers from Texas.
Then, something great happened!
I woke up this morning, extremely tired and achy, but – wow! – the headache was gone. Once I actually got vertical and moved around for a bit, I actually felt good! I feel good! I have a bit more energy, I think, than I’m normally used to. After a big bowl of melon for breakfast, I went down and balanced the checkbook, paid the bills, spent some time with the Little One and her new sister, and, after this posting, will do my regular Saturday morning errands.
It seems I’m on the upswing with the TRFD. Hopefully …
Saturday, October 4, 2008
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Kill the Bear
“What one man can do – another can do!”
He stared at me, a crazed look clouding his blue eyes, his three-day growth of gray beard miniature spikes that brought my attention back to the five-foot wooden spear I’d sharpened earlier.
He’d gone insane, I realized. But then, Charles’ form of insanity was antithetical to most men’s. He became even more rational. How else does one acquire a billion dollars and keep it in this modern world of ours?
I mumbled the phrase back to him, and probed the tip of my spear with a thumb.
“Louder!” he barked.
“What one man can do …”
“Louder!”
I stopped and stared at him, five feet away, ragged, weary, as sleep-deprived as me, still in shock from Steve’s death. We had no sleep last night, not wanting to wind up like that, and, to be honest, I thought a lot about my own death. My own impending death, by all signs and appearances. It’s kinda wild, but I think I was okay with it.
“Louder!”
“What one man can do, another can do.” It sounded loud, to me.
“Louder!”
The spear twirled in my hands. For an instant, I actually thought I was going to stab Charles. But no, my jaw clenched, and something fell over me, but it wasn’t aimed at Charles, so much as through him.
“What one man can do, another can do!” I bellowed full-blast out of lungs.
I no longer felt the cold, the ever-present and all-encompassing Alaskan cold. Anger enveloped me. Charles saw that, too, and liked it. He must’ve been worried that I’d given up at some point during the night, and I did. I wanted to die. Not like Steve, but the way I always envisioned: massive coronary, painful but I wouldn’t had felt it due to the cocaine and alcohol overload, naked beneath a big-breasted blonde. A chick that looked a lot like Charles’ wife, but that’s another story.
“Say it again!” Charles commanded, spittle flying in all directions.
Blood boiling and chest pounding, I leapt to my feet, clenching my hands white and tight around the spear. I was pissed off, more than I’d ever been in my life. The whole thing – it wasn’t fair! Wasn’t fair – why me? The plane crash days and days ago, the cold, finger-numbing cold, the walking in circles, the helicopter that didn't see us, oh God the hunger! And Steve – and – and –
“Bob! Say it louder!”
“WHAT ONE MAN CAN DO – ANOTHER CAN DO!”
Charles snarled a laugh, his immaculately white teeth like a little dog’s crowding the grimace, and raised his own spear high above his head. The blazing bonfire cast demonic crimson hues upon him. “And what are we going to do?”
I reached out and clasped his arm, tight, and brought him to me, eye to eye.
“We’re going to kill that f---ing bear.”
And do something extraordinary …
He stared at me, a crazed look clouding his blue eyes, his three-day growth of gray beard miniature spikes that brought my attention back to the five-foot wooden spear I’d sharpened earlier.
He’d gone insane, I realized. But then, Charles’ form of insanity was antithetical to most men’s. He became even more rational. How else does one acquire a billion dollars and keep it in this modern world of ours?
I mumbled the phrase back to him, and probed the tip of my spear with a thumb.
“Louder!” he barked.
“What one man can do …”
“Louder!”
I stopped and stared at him, five feet away, ragged, weary, as sleep-deprived as me, still in shock from Steve’s death. We had no sleep last night, not wanting to wind up like that, and, to be honest, I thought a lot about my own death. My own impending death, by all signs and appearances. It’s kinda wild, but I think I was okay with it.
“Louder!”
“What one man can do, another can do.” It sounded loud, to me.
“Louder!”
The spear twirled in my hands. For an instant, I actually thought I was going to stab Charles. But no, my jaw clenched, and something fell over me, but it wasn’t aimed at Charles, so much as through him.
“What one man can do, another can do!” I bellowed full-blast out of lungs.
I no longer felt the cold, the ever-present and all-encompassing Alaskan cold. Anger enveloped me. Charles saw that, too, and liked it. He must’ve been worried that I’d given up at some point during the night, and I did. I wanted to die. Not like Steve, but the way I always envisioned: massive coronary, painful but I wouldn’t had felt it due to the cocaine and alcohol overload, naked beneath a big-breasted blonde. A chick that looked a lot like Charles’ wife, but that’s another story.
“Say it again!” Charles commanded, spittle flying in all directions.
Blood boiling and chest pounding, I leapt to my feet, clenching my hands white and tight around the spear. I was pissed off, more than I’d ever been in my life. The whole thing – it wasn’t fair! Wasn’t fair – why me? The plane crash days and days ago, the cold, finger-numbing cold, the walking in circles, the helicopter that didn't see us, oh God the hunger! And Steve – and – and –
“Bob! Say it louder!”
“WHAT ONE MAN CAN DO – ANOTHER CAN DO!”
Charles snarled a laugh, his immaculately white teeth like a little dog’s crowding the grimace, and raised his own spear high above his head. The blazing bonfire cast demonic crimson hues upon him. “And what are we going to do?”
I reached out and clasped his arm, tight, and brought him to me, eye to eye.
“We’re going to kill that f---ing bear.”
And do something extraordinary …
Wednesday, October 1, 2008
Dedicated
After weeks, months, and years of treating my body like garbage and letting it be ruled by quick automatic responses to stress, I made a change. It will be a lasting one, because it has to be. It can’t be any other way, and I can’t go back to the way things were.
This guy, here, convinced me to make the change.
I’m on what’s called a transitional raw foods diet. Although I hate using that word, ‘diet,’ because this really isn’t one. I can eat as much fruits and veggies that I want. Limitless. It’s more a modification of eating habits. That is, modifying atrocious eating habits into healthier ones. Now, mind you, it’s not that I drink two gallons of Coke a day and feast on candy bar-laced ice cream sandwiches in between. I’m pretty good when it comes to eating habits. But I can also be bad, particularly if I’m under stress or in a rotten mood.
For example, as regular readers of this here blog know, I’ve been under the gun at work almost nonstop this year. A lot of it is not justified; a lot of it is because I’ve reached my limit. Regardless, when I have a particularly bad day, I grab a diet Coke and a some nitrate-riddled lunch-meat white-roll sandwich and head for the park for an hour. I get back, and I snack on little candy bars the girls in the office leave out consistently every day. See here. Then, after my blood sugar’s been spiking north and south a dozen times over the past six hours, after fighting traffic and dealing with child care and a daughter who may or may not have napped, I get home and pop open a beer or two to wash the day away. It works to a certain extent, but weeks and months of this have absolutely devastated my body. I have no energy, yet I can’t sleep. I’ve gained fifteen or twenty pounds since my thirties. The thought of exercise tires me.
My wife and I both went on a similar raw foods plan for two weeks in May 2007. The results were incredible. They said I’d feel irritable and fatigued as the toxins washed out of my body, but I don’t recall being overly so (work, however, at that time was not as stressful as now). We both dropped a huge amount of weight. I think I lost close to ten pounds, and felt no harmful side effects. It was truly amazing. But we cheated one weekend, stumbled through the next week, and then totally derailed, enabling each other’s bad behavior.
Technically, I’ve been doing a partial form of transitional raw foods for five days now, and it’s working. But I’ve been letting myself slip and cheat, especially at lunch and in the evening. So, since I like to start new things with as much significance as possible, today being October 1st, I will ascribe now to the complete transitional raw foods eating style. For this month I’ll keep a log to make sure I stay honest, and I’ll blog weekly on this, giving more details of the eating changes implemented and how it’s affecting me.
Big changes ahead, and this is the first of ’em.
This guy, here, convinced me to make the change.
I’m on what’s called a transitional raw foods diet. Although I hate using that word, ‘diet,’ because this really isn’t one. I can eat as much fruits and veggies that I want. Limitless. It’s more a modification of eating habits. That is, modifying atrocious eating habits into healthier ones. Now, mind you, it’s not that I drink two gallons of Coke a day and feast on candy bar-laced ice cream sandwiches in between. I’m pretty good when it comes to eating habits. But I can also be bad, particularly if I’m under stress or in a rotten mood.
For example, as regular readers of this here blog know, I’ve been under the gun at work almost nonstop this year. A lot of it is not justified; a lot of it is because I’ve reached my limit. Regardless, when I have a particularly bad day, I grab a diet Coke and a some nitrate-riddled lunch-meat white-roll sandwich and head for the park for an hour. I get back, and I snack on little candy bars the girls in the office leave out consistently every day. See here. Then, after my blood sugar’s been spiking north and south a dozen times over the past six hours, after fighting traffic and dealing with child care and a daughter who may or may not have napped, I get home and pop open a beer or two to wash the day away. It works to a certain extent, but weeks and months of this have absolutely devastated my body. I have no energy, yet I can’t sleep. I’ve gained fifteen or twenty pounds since my thirties. The thought of exercise tires me.
My wife and I both went on a similar raw foods plan for two weeks in May 2007. The results were incredible. They said I’d feel irritable and fatigued as the toxins washed out of my body, but I don’t recall being overly so (work, however, at that time was not as stressful as now). We both dropped a huge amount of weight. I think I lost close to ten pounds, and felt no harmful side effects. It was truly amazing. But we cheated one weekend, stumbled through the next week, and then totally derailed, enabling each other’s bad behavior.
Technically, I’ve been doing a partial form of transitional raw foods for five days now, and it’s working. But I’ve been letting myself slip and cheat, especially at lunch and in the evening. So, since I like to start new things with as much significance as possible, today being October 1st, I will ascribe now to the complete transitional raw foods eating style. For this month I’ll keep a log to make sure I stay honest, and I’ll blog weekly on this, giving more details of the eating changes implemented and how it’s affecting me.
Big changes ahead, and this is the first of ’em.
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