Day 12 of the great 34-day fast. End of day.
What a crazy day. I haven't yet decided if it was a good day or a bad day. I'll know for sure when I step on the scale in the morning.
Food shopping gives me the shakes, literally. I spent two and a half hours poring over labels and wringing my hands over decisions, and only bought 19 items. This is my twisted way of seeing the world. Now I know I'm back into my eating disorder full swing.
Or am I? I went shopping for the purpose of buying all kinds of ingredients for 4th of July desserts. While I was there, I opted to go ahead and do my market "research" on what I'll be buying in the future, trying to find all the sub-100 calorie items. Too many of them ended up in my fucking shopping trolley!!!
- 24 sugar-free popsicles. Ok, this is supposed to be for the 4th of July parties, I'm not actually counting on eating them before then.
- 2 white cake mixes, 4 sticks of margarine - dessert ingredients
- Quaker Mini Delights, Cinnamon Streusel flavor 90-cal packs. This I bought more for Sheena than for myself. We had JUST been having a discussion about how not to eat the whole bag of rice cakes in one sitting, and I suggested what I used to do: open the bag, take out one serving, and close the bag again before the first one ever goes in your mouth. Well, the company wised up and did it for us! Not only that, but they flavored it with SIN-ammon, one of my weaknesses. Ugh.
- 4 rectangle tupperware dishes and a bag of diced walnuts - dessert ingredients
- Progresso French Onion soup. Honest to God, I was looking for Minestrone! I found so many sites that said it was "100 calories" per serving, but nowhere could I find single serving options. I know myself, and I know damn well, if I open a can of soup, I'm not going to stop with just HALF of it. The ONLY soup I could find in the entire fucking aisle that had no more than 100 calories in the can was this one.
- Campbell's Soup-at-hands: 2 Italian style wedding, and 1 blended vegetable medley. Jesus, just the thought of meat and pasta particles makes me drool. These single serving cups are 100 calories a piece. I am amazed that 10 oz of soup can be lower-cal than 8 oz of fruit juice. What the hell am I doing on this damned juice fast???
- Blueberry and Cherry pie filling - dessert ingredients
- Sweet gherkin pickles. Now, again, I had come to understand that you can go through an entire jar of these CALORIE-FREE if you pick the right ones. Once again I looked at the label of every single jar on the aisle and only ONE satisfied me. I did have some tough criteria though: it had to be 0 calories per serving, not chips, and it had to be sugar-free. I also justify this as a planned binge. I will keep it in my room on a shelf until I plan to binge on it. Then I will have to take the time to put it in the fridge and wait for it to get cold before I dive in. That's just how I eat 'em.
- Kraft Organic Raspberry Vinaigrette. No, balsamic (although much lower in calories) will not do. Again, had to be lowest-cal possible and sugar-free. This one out of all of them fit the bill.
- bag of mini-pretzels: for the dessert
And then, this is when the shaking started to get out of control. I really wanted to find red-white-and-blue sprinkles for my desserts, but there were none - ANYWHERE in the entire store. It's the singlemost patriotic fucking day of the year people! Where the hell are my red-white-and-blue sprinkles!?! How the hell am I supposed to present this dessert at a fucking FOURTH OF JULY PARTY if it's only WHITE???!!!!
I had decided to proceed to the checkout when I passed the jello aisle. I had to stop for "research." I ended up with a 4-pack of sugar-free strawberry-orange cups. Hell, if I eat all four at once, it'll set me back 20 calories. And again, I'll have to think ahead enough to refrigerate them.
I also had to pass through the produce aisle on my way out, and the salad was screaming at me from the shelf, "Come get me! It's a FREE meal!!" There were people around, so I had to fight the urge to scream back at it, "Shut the hell up and leave me alone! I'll be back next week for you!" Nope, I stopped.
Dole's Spring Mix is a beautiful ready-to-eat blend of baby lettuces, greens, endive & radicchio (my favorite). Sooooo negligible in nutritional value that it didn't even have a LABEL. Into the trolley it jumped.
And as I rushed toward the cashier with a new fervor, my heart began to race with the anticipation of reaching home. My new vinaigrette was sneering at me, irresistible. I looked at the label again. On today's menu, I still have yet to have my 160-cal Starbucks latte on the way to the gym. In order to eat 160 calories of this stuff, I'd have to eat (do the math) a half-cup!!!
"You can't let that salad go bad. It only takes a day."
"Today is supposed to be juice only! It's bad enough I'm eating 1/2 cup of cereal after my workout."
....heart pounding with the temptation of FOOD versus coffee...
I don't really remember checking out, or how much I sped all the way home. Usually I would make several trips to the car to bring all the bags in; more trips = more calories burnt. But this time, I muscled them all in with one trip. I threw the bags down on the front table, took the popsicles to the freezer, the butter to the fridge (the only perishables) poured out a 1/2 cup of vinaigrette into a measuring cup, tore open the bag of salad, grabbed a handfull, dipped it straight into the measuring cup and shoved it into my mouth. It was like eating a fucking hamburger!!!
No fork, no bowl, so primitive. I reached for handful #2... and my roommate walks in the front door. SHIT! "Hey, hon! Didn't expect you home so early!" She's had a long day at work and after half-heartedly acknowledging me, mercifully heads straight for the bathroom. I grabbed the measuring cup and the bag of lettuce, and as many other grocery bags as I could handle and booked it upstairs to my room.
Handful by handful, hunched over the cup and bag like a vulture, I polished off the entire five-ounce bag of greens in a 10-minute sitting. Dipping, shaking off the excess, nearly reaching orgasm from the frantic pace of the unplanned binge and the adrenaline of almost being caught.
Here's the advantage of dipping straight from the measuring cup: when the greens were all gone, there was still 2.5 ounces of dressing left in the cup. 80 calories I mephistophically enjoyed slogging down the drain. This could mean only one thing: coffee is now not ENTIRELY out of the question.
I always get the Venti at Starbucks. If I'm going to spend that much fucking money for a damn cup of coffee, then fill it up! However, I am also well aware that a venti of my favorite drink is 160 calories, a grande is 130 calories, and a tall is 90 calories. While this tall coffee would put me 10 calories over my previously intended limit for the day, it still leaves me under 400.
Knowing that I am going to need a full 4 hours at the gym (which closes in 5 hours) to burn all this shit off, I waste no time getting dressed, packing my bag, and getting the hell out of the house.
God still has funny ways of looking out for my best interests. If it were up to me at that point, in my crazed state, I would have flown through downtown at twice the speed limit. But as they'll be shooting fireworks tonight, half of downtown's streets are blocked off, and traffic is crawling.
At this point, I am MANIC. I check my watch, I check the radio's clock, I check every clock I pass... as if I can power the time to slow, or the traffic to move by knowing the time. I have brought my book so I can sit and leisurely enjoy the coffee as it enters my bloodstream, but now there is no time. I plan to drive-thru.
I'm always worried that the baristas at Starbucks will recognize me when I order the same drink every single day. I often attempt to go to alternate locations at differing times to avoid this stigma of "she's addicted." (Though, I clearly am.) Luckily, the girl at the drive-thru today is new. Unfortunately, that means she's also slow.
I cut off at least two people as I attempted to slog down the coffee while maniacally driving the short mile-and-a-half to the gym. (Looking back now I realize, never once did I consider the danger to myself or others, or the fact that by now, my nerves don't even really NEED this coffee I fought so hard for.)
I get to the gym at 5:45. I need to workout from 6 pm until 10 pm. There is seven minutes left in the song in my cd player, and the coffee's not quite gone. I park, turn the ignition to shut off the car but leave on the player, pull out my book (ah! a wave of relief as the plan has not been entirely altered!) and read til the song is over and the cup is empty.
By 5:55, I'm on the treadmill.
I am so exuberantly happy that I am laughing out loud at the nonsense on the television. People on adjacent treadmills are staring at me for being so loud. They can hear me through their own headphones. I CARE NOT. I feel like I've just gotten away with murder. I feel clever, powerful, energized, and I don't give a flying fuck what the world thinks of me.
Three hours later, I have reached that 1500 calories-burned threshold, and my poor body knows it. Still, I have a little less than an hour that the gym is open, so I opt to force myself through one more half-hour on the treadmill, albeit at a slightly lesser pace.
In the four hours I've had to crank out 14+ miles and THINK and listen to my body, I realize that I've not had a day where I burned less than 1000 calories at the gym in almost a week. My body NEEDS a break, or it will break.
I have decided that if I can reach Sunday's weight goal by Saturday morning, I will deserve to have Saturday off from the gym. I can find other ways of staying busy, and still burning calories. They just won't be counted calories, like my elliptical tells me. I bump up the speed on my final treadmill trek to make sure I reach that goal.
God, my body hurts. Ana chides, "Well, getting thin is painful! Wanna quit? Fine - stay fat!!!" I don't want to admit it, but my body desperately needs that break. In six consecutive days, I have travelled 64+ belted miles. Please Lord (I begin to pray) let me wake up xxx pounds tomorrow so I can have a day off from the gym. Please Lord, let me wake up xxx pounds tomorrow so I can have a day off from the gym. Please Lord,... I start sing-songing it in my head to the beat of my own feet.
At 9:45, the first set of lights goes off to remind us that it's time to clean up and head home. I'm done anyway. I have burned 1621 calories, and travelled 14.57 miles in less than 4 hours. It doesn't take a mathematician to figure out that I have burned more than 4 TIMES the amount of calories I ingested today.
THAT is the justification for having eaten solid food on a designated "juice-fast" day.
When I step off the treadmill, hand on my still-too-fat belly bulge, I'm not even a little bit hungry. But my heart is about to pound out of my chest, so I take my time getting back to the locker room. Lord help me - if I faint right here, the game will be over too soon.
But halfway through the drive home, it hit me - Rice Krispies! The planned bowl of 1/2 cup of Rice krispies and 1/2 cup of fat-free milk as an 88-calorie recovery treat for my stinging muscle tissue. Still not hungry, but more of a feeling of "I've earned it; I deserve it."
And then another thought. The devil's advocate creeps into my twisted imagination. "You know, you could have a FULL cup of cereal and a FULL cup of milk, and still have achieved a significant defecit of calories for the day." Ana butts in, "Hell no!! You don't NEED it. You're only cheating yourself, and you WON'T reach that early goal."
Thank God my roommates were out when I got home. I only had the half-portion.
Took my shower, rambled upstairs, and sat down to check the facebook. Couldn't wait to tell Sheena about the rice cakes and... oops, one of them wormed it's way out of the box and into my lap and peeled open. Ooh, look! There's even a single chocolate one in here by mistake. Blech - it tastes absolutely chocolate-FREE. But the cinnamon streusel is DIVINE.
DAMNIT. Entered on the excel chart, that brings my total daily intake to 488 calories. Now I have only burned more than THREE TIMES what I consumed. DAMNIT. If I don't meet my early goal tomorrow, I will have only myself to blame as I agonize through another 1000 calories on the treadmill.
Please, Lord. Help me. I'm still fat, I'm not sick. The only fat I can see shrinking is my boobs - why always THERE first??? I want to see my ladder. I want to see my ribcage through my back. I want to see a space between my thighs.
Please, Lord. I hurt so bad... Please Lord, let me wake up xxx pounds tomorrow so I can have a day off from the gym.