Monthly Archives: November 2012
I have missed you so much. Have I ever told you how much I adore you? I don’t think I have and it’s time you know the truth.
I’ll admit, I was skeptical the first day we met because you’re electric and I’ve only ever had a gas oven and stovetop but I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and open my heart to you. I’d had my feelings hurt before from ovens that have died, lied to me about their temperature or simply not cooked my food, so I was so happy to find that you were extremely clean, didn’t reek of burnt cheese whenever I cooked something in you and you cooked my food at an alarmingly fast rate.
It was meant to be from the very beginning.
I’m sorry I dropped that giant piece of garlic pizza crust onto your heating coil which cause it to set on fire and only narrowly not blow up the kitchen. I bet that scared you almost as much as it scared me. I blame myself for that incident, as well as forgetting about that burned piece of garlic pizza crust until the next time I turned you on to bake some cookies, which caused the apartment to smell like burning. I quickly retrieved the crust from your belly and I’m sure you were grateful, which you showed with delicious cookies.
I’m so terribly sorry I’ve had to neglect you over the last two months. I swear it wasn’t intentional. I thought we could live harmoniously during this strict Paleo time; baking banana bread and cookies and other delicious things while I did the LuRong challenge, but I quickly found out that I couldn’t use you at all and your stovetop got more action that I care to mention. I longed for the days of being able to watch you bake cookies and muffins and breads.
Instead I walked past you day after day… not thinking twice about how much I needed to be domestic; how much I wanted to bake. I came to avoid your judging glances and hateful comments whenever I turned on the stovetop again to make bacon and eggs. I tried buttering you up by cleaning your door and handle when bacon fat splattered or I got soup spilled, but you were so angry with me.
I hoped one day we could be together again in harmonious bliss…And now that day has come.
And I’m not looking back.
And I know we’re going to have a very happy time together… until my lease runs out or I move out. But we’re going to make the most of the days we have together. And that includes lots of baking and roasting and lots of time with you at 325 degrees F.
With all my adoration and gratitude,
P.S. Did I ever mention that boyfriend likes you too? From your broiler to the way the racks move so easily up and down, to the wonderful way you bake those cookies and muffins. If it weren’t for his new oven, I’m sure he’d be begging to hang out with you more often.
Did you hear the groans this morning? Or the cracks of joints as we went down the stairs? That’d be both Boyfriend and I sore as hell after WODding on Wednesday and Thanksgiving morning. What were we thinking?
Let’s go back a couple days:
Wednesday we got out of work a little early but I stayed until 3:30 anyway to fill in a few hours that I’d be missing from the holiday. I went to the 4:30 class and cringed hardcore when I saw the WOD:
15 Tuck Jumps
12 Hand-Release push ups
Your final score was the weight of the snatch. You could go down in weight, but not up.
I started with a 55 pound snatch, got through two and hit myself in the head on the third. I dropped the two 10s and stuck with the bare 35 pound bar. meh. The 15 minutes were freaking interminable. I hated every ever-loving second of the freaking thing. My back hurt from not having the bumpers so I went down too far with the snatch and my back was probably rounded and I was rushing the whole thing so my low back was angry. A few twists and snaps and it feels better.
Anyway– so after the WOD, I raced home, picked up some stuff, packed clothes for the WOD the next morning, went to the store and then to Boyfriends for the night.
We woke up, I sipped at some coffee, drank some water and we headed to the WOD at CrossFit Fort Atkinson: Boyfriend’s box. They were doing a special team WOD and were more than welcoming to have a guest, so Boyfriend brought me with.
Warm up? Just a nice little half-mile run. In the mild-cold wind. On terrain. Mahhhhh.
Then some lunges and yoga poses. Better.
Then we got put into groups for the team WOD. Ready for this?
Teams of 7:
Farmer/Buddy carry 400m, every person must be carried and/or carry at least once.
25 rope climbs, all other teammates hold plank position
140 pull ups, all other teammates hold wall sit
Every team member rows 400m while all other teammates do air squats
Wall-ball-into-tire-opening. Every time you miss, every team member does three burpees.
Every teammate drinks a beer.
Right away we were off to a beautiful start. The guy who tried picking me up for the buddy carry tried hiking me up but he went down too far and I went up too high and I took a wonderful dive on top of him and he was bloody afterward. My hands were scraped, which affected my pull ups. The worst was holding the positions while teammates worked. I did manage to get 20 pull ups and 9 up-downs to equal 3 pull ups and I kept up with the rest of the team pretty well, in my opinion.
My legs were still twitchy as we left and headed home to clean up and grab foodstuffs to head to Mom’s for thanksgiving. We had a 14 pound bird smelling up mom’s house and it smelled amazing all day. We finally had Thanksgiving Dinner around 3 p.m. and it was all very delicious. I was more concerned with spending time with Mom and Boyfriend than taking pictures, so I’ll take pictures of leftovers at some point and talk about them later. But know they were really good.
Dessert came out pretty good, but it needs some finessing for the future. I’m not terribly happy with it, but goddamn is almond butter good.
Leftovers are also the best thing in the world. Cranberry sauce on turkey. LOVE. Lots of love for those two things. Again, pictures to come later.
I’m sure I’ll have to meet her again. And I don’t know that I’ll want to.
She was cruel. She was sadistic. She had a TIME CAP. She was horrible. She took a lot of determination to get through. She required me to scale. And really get in my own head to keep pushing myself.
So now that you’re so looking forward to doing this WOD on your own: here she is:
5 rounds for time:
30 KB swings (75/55)
30 pull ups
Did you just shit yourself? Yeah I threw up a little in my mouth when I saw it on the whiteboard. We were told on Facebook to be prepared for multi-modal workout. I figured we’d be doing Murph or something. I wasn’t ready for this. I walked by to sign in and Tyler asked me how I felt about it and I told him pretty nervous. He then told me to scale the running to a 400m run as I’d be able to actually finish then. I grabbed the last bell under 35 lbs, which was an 18ish pounder. It would be easy but I knew the rest would be tough.
I wrapped my cowl around me, stuck my ipod in my ears and headed on the run, much slower than everyone else, not that I cared. Motion City Soundtrack, Anberlin, Alkaline Trio and Modest Mouse blared in my ears so I focused on the beat of the music and my breathing and just kept moving. I came back into the gym with a 2:42 run, more than 45 seconds faster than my previously timed 400m run. It was a great way to start.
KB swings over, I approached the bar and my black band. Did I mention I only got banded pull ups a week and a half ago? And the most I had done previously was 26 in a WOD? Yeah… I’m a little nervous, to say the least. I narrowed my grip to use my biceps more and stayed as strict as possible while paying attention to my grip so I wouldn’t fall off the bar– it’s a fear of mine.
The second run was a little harder as I powered through the pull ups. I got a cramp in my side and had to walk for about 50 feet, but quickly started running again, unwilling to puss out and walk a round. It would kill my time otherwise.
I started kipping with the band. It was hard– The free foot kipped while I used my arms a lot more. It killed my grip and my shoulders. I did sets of five… then sets of three… then sets of two. Every time I’d get to five I’d step back on the box and rest for five breaths and pick up where I left off.
At 45 minutes, the time cap set on us, I had five pull ups left. I finished with a time of 45:27. I collapsed on the floor, created a sweat angel and found my fingers were numb. Gripping the steering wheel on the way home was harder than it should have been. Hell, even gripping my phone was tough. Eventually the feeling came back in my fingers and I managed to make it up the stairs to my bed an hour and a half earlier than I usually do.
The next morning, showering proved to be the most painful experience ever. I couldn’t wash my hair without my hands hurting and my shoulders screaming at me in resistance. I was sore all day. And the next day. I finally felt relief by Saturday.
The big thing I took from Eva is that determination with finishing a WOD. It wasn’t about finishing RXed because there was no way I could do a 55 pound kettlebell swing yet, but it was about knowing I was willing and able to actually finishing near the timecap and be able to do all the running unbroken and all the pull ups banded and having that determination to not give up or walk out of the gym before the WOD even started. It was about not being afraid my hands would rip, or that I couldn’t do the pull ups. It was pure determination that my body has gone through these changes and has become so much stronger and leaner and it’s about time I finally see results.
Wednesday night I did 150 pull ups. And I ran over a mile. And I didn’t give up. I didn’t stop. I showed up. I endured and I am better for it. And that’s what matters.
Excuse me while I pick my jaw off the floor.
Boyfriend texts me this after I asked his opinion of Pumpkin Cheesecake from PaleOMG or pumpkin pie made paleo– the recipe being adapted from Mom’s Pumpkin Pie recipe.
Now, I have made Mom’s pumpkin pie before and it’s delicious. I have not adapted her recipe and tried to make it yet, mostly because the LuRong challenge is still going on and I can’t eat baking powder or soda, or raw honey, or well… ANYTHING GOOD. I hate this stupid challenge and can’t wait until Saturday. I MISS MY OVEN!!!!
Anyway– I was planning on taking my day off on Saturday– my first one in about a month, mind you, and go shopping, get a wax, buy groceries, bake delicious things in my oven that I have missed so much over the last two months and stop off at Mom’s and get the recipe to make this pie on Sunday after work.
So I decided to be all dramatic with Boyfriend. The conversation went as followed:
Me: With picture of PaleOMG cheesecake: Pumpkin cheesecake or pie? Either way they’re paleo and I found my crust.
BF: Cheesecake: Don’t spoil my pie, please.
Me: … :-0
I can’t believe you just said that!
Me: (5 minutes later) I’m blogging about this. I’m still in shock.
BF: hahaha. I’m sure you will do an excellent job at converting a pumpkin pie… just not for Thanksgiving!
Me: I. Am. Appalled. You don’t think paleo pumpkin pie will be as good, if not better, than regular FATTY pumpkin pie?
BF: I said no such thing…
Me: I’ll prove to you just how amazing pumpkin paleo pie is on Sunday. So there. And you’ll be begging for it for Thanksgiving. But I won’t ruin your previous pie for you. Oh no.
It’s at this point in the conversation where I imagine I stomp one foot, cross my arms, mutter a defiant ‘hmph’ and tip my nose in the air. (Have I mentioned I’ve had a lot of really strong coffee today?) He then rolls his eyes, stifles a snort of laughter and goes back to work. We all know this is exactly how it would have happened in real life, too. We’re a. that predictable and b. that disgustingly cute.
I really couldn’t care less what kind of dessert I make, and this cheesecake sounds delicious so I’m planning on making it anyway. I just needed a giggle and I got it.
Pumpkin cheesecake. Mom, the truly non-paleo of our bunch (she claims she simply can’t go on without carbs), won’t know what hit her. This will be an awesome ending to our 100% Paleo 80% of the time Thanksgiving dinner. What’s on the docket you ask?
- A 10 freaking pound turkey. An actual turkey. Do you know how long it’s been since I had an actual turkey with Thanksgiving dinner? Prior years it’s always been me and Mom so it’s been a breast, or a Cornish Hen (Don’t judge me.) so we’re doing a turkey. Holy crap.
- Green bean casserole. It’s the 20% of non-paleo to our dinner. I can’t live a year without it. It’s my crack. I have to have those French Fried onions. Those tiny little artificial food bastards taste so good.
- Sweet Potatoes. I haven’t quite decided how to best prepare them. I might just do them with sme marmalade and pumpkin pie seasonings, without the marshmallows, or I can mash them… or do something else. I’m not totally sure yet.
- Cranberry sauce. Fresh cranberries in apple cider with a squeeze of agave nectar. Good god.
- Mom is making gravy. I don’t eat gravy. Gravy isn’t Paleo.
- The cheesecake. I might have to make concessions as coconut butter might be hard to find, but almond butter is sitting in my cupboard. We’ll see what happens.
As Bob as my witness, the pie will be amazing. And my oven and I will be reunited once more in a harmonious love that no one else has ever known before.
It’s been tough trying to dress myself professionally for the last few weeks.
Mostly because I have no clothes in my closet.
OK so this isn’t totally true– I have plenty of clothes, but my lack of shirts is becoming harder to ignore as I have to keep throwing more and more into the goodwill pile. Plato’s Closet, sizeist assholes that they are, won’t take my fatty clothes as they don’t “cater to that demographic” which pisses me off to no end , so the giant garbage bags of clothes, shirts, jeans, jackets and dresses are left to languish in the trunk of my car.
Currently hanging in my closet are the following:
– About a half-dozen nighties including a very large long-sleeve dress for winter.
– 3 slip-and-flowy dresses.
– 5 kimono dresses. Unsure of their fit.
– About a dozen full-length cardigans
– 6 or 7 shrugs or boleros
– Two or three pullovers
– One robe I almost never wear
– 2 pairs of dress pants, one with a split ass (note to self: Overhead Squats in dress pants don’t mix)
– Workout clothes: Doesn’t count toward wardrobe, though the pants don’t fit anymore…
– Two pairs of booties, two more heels that are probably half a size too big now but I wear them anyway, two pairs of boots, one of which are too big, Inov-8s(Don’t count) and one pair of peep toe canvas shoes that don’t fit either, plus TOMS, flip flops, Vans and Chucks. All completely irrelevant.
– Oh and two pairs of men’s shorts that don’t fit anymore either.
Please note how almost everything in said list doesn’t fit anymore. The cardigans and tank tops and new pants are pretty much it. I’m frequently wearing black pants, tank tops and a cardigan to work. Or leggings and a dress. It’s kind of repetitive. And not very stylish.
Now I know what you’re saying: OH THAT SOUNDS LIKE SUCH A TERRIBLE PROBLEM TO HAVE with a healthy dose of sarcasm, but here’s the rub: I haz no moneys.
Plato’s closet took a pair of flats that are so old and disgusting from wearing them regularly and a pair of red hooker heels I have never worn without pulling a calf muscle, an ELLE skirt I never wore because it turned out to look too slutty when I was fat and now it doesn’t fit and a hooded jacket that confused the hell out of me for its choice. They gave me 20 dollars after insulting me and I walked away with my two bags of clothes and shoes and sent them bad juju.
They also didn’t have any jackets that were a: In good condition enough to be worn at the price they were trying to sell them (See holes in pockets and missing buttons), and b: Properly sized to fit. So annoying. I’ll make do until I find a real winter jacket as my old ones are FAR too big so I put them in the pile to now go to Goodwill.
This honestly is just me being a complainer. But the fact that I look like I’m wearing garbage bags in some of my stuff, means I need to go shopping. It’s just tough when I have no funds in which to successfully shop for quality clothing. I’ll be hitting up Marshalls for some cheap-as-hell nice-looking clothes.
I can’t wait to try these– They err on the primal side because of the cheese, but I’ve been trolling his recipes and I can’t help myself. Scones sound amazing. Here’s how to take a scone recipe and make it Paleo:
I pulled this recipe from Vanilla Garlic. Again. Garret is fantastic and I’ve been reading him for years. I hope he doesn’t view my altering his recipes as bastardizing them…
Cheddar Rosemary Scones
7 ounces bread flour 1 Cup Almond flour
1 ounces sugar – One healthy squeeze of agave nectar or one tsp raw honey (melted)
2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
6 ounces shredded cheddar
1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary
pinch of cayenne
7 ounces cream One cup almond milk
NOTE: This recipe may not come to the same fruition as the recipe states on Vanilla Garlic, but you’ll still end up with some delish scones.
1. Whisk together the bread flour, salt, sugar, cayenne, and baking powder. Next, whisk in the 5 ounces of the cheddar and the rosemary.
2. Add the cream and use your hands to gently bring together the ingredients. If you need to add a bit more cream then do so judiciously. It will be sticky and clumpy. Turn the dough out onto a lightly floured surface and knead twice (push-squish and push-squish, done).
3. Form the dough into a disc and cut into 6-8 pieces. Brush the tops with a bit more cream and top with remaining cheese.
4. Bake at 425F for 10-15 minutes or until golden.
You know what? I love my Gyno. He’s (yes, I said HE) is the sweetest man and he doesn’t bullshit with me. When he told me two years ago that I have PCOS with the severe chance of Type 2 Diabetes in five years if I didn’t turn my shit around and fast, he laid it straight out on the line. He didn’t sugar coat it for me. When my previous doc scolded me for believing her when she said the medication I was on would help me lose weight when it only made me sick every night, I was done and decided I need a don’t-eff-with-me doctor who would tell me exactly what I needed to know and be able to help me sufficiently without me wanting to rip my hair out in frustration.
The last time I saw the good doctor was a year ago for my last yearly. I was a sad and pathetic 211 pounds, with no hope of losing any more as I kept yo-yo-ing back and forth between the same seven pounds. He told me my diet sounded OK and to keep working out and getting on the treadmill, but it all seemed so dismal. I wasn’t feeling so happy about coming back in a year potentially weighing more.
At my worst, I was at 234 pounds in June.
Then I found CrossFit and Paleo. And I lost 40 pounds. This morning I stepped on the scale at Boyfriends and it looked to be saying 191. Boyfriend gave me a sideways hug and I complained about how it hurt my ribs. “Yeah because you don’t have a ton of fat as a cushion there anymore!” and hugged me again. I told him how unlikely it was that I just had a 6-pound poo, but I knew I was closer to my goal of 40 pounds and that I might actually have made it there for this appointment. My previous goal was to just get to 200 pounds for the appointment and I demolished it a few weeks ago.
I got to the doctor and stepped on the scale and was so happy to see 195 pounds. I told the PA I was only one pound away from a total weight loss of 40 pounds since June and she was so happy for me. She didn’t have the same appreciation for Paleo as I do, but she extolled my happiness while asking all the basic questions.
Doctor came into the room to my beaming smile and immediately told me I look fantastic and I don’t even look the same. Oddly enough, I don’t notice a difference in my physique. I notice the difference in the gym, sure, but not really in myself– only occasionally when I wear certain clothes that fit right. He still was so happy for me and told me to keep it up as it was having a lot of positive affects on, not just my physical condition but my personal and hormonal balances. He did the basic tests, told me I looked awesome, gave me a flu shot and sent me down to have my blood sugar checked.
I know a lot of people talk about how weird it would be to have a male-doctor all up in their lady-business but I’d much rather have a dude who isn’t going to bullshit me into thinking this drug is going to help me lose weight when it won’t and he’ll tell me exactly what I need to know and he’ll be there to help me when I need it. That and there is always a PA/Nurse in the room with the doctor when he is examining your ladybits, so it helps with the comfort thing. I’ve had some great female doctors and I’d go to a couple of them in a heartbeat for other things like a cold or whatever, but when a doctor starts telling me ‘I never told you that you needed to lose 50 pounds’ when I never would have gone on a diet in the first place unless you told me that, it’s time to move on.
Anyway, that’s just my little spiel on how much I lurve my doctor. I’ll be seeing him, hopefully lighter still, in a year.
I think it’s about time to do a before-during-after photo shoot. I’m still working on finding the before photo- as I decidedly avoided my body in pictures BCF (Before CrossFit), but now I don’t mind it so much. One of these days I’ll figure out which picture I hate more and what outfit to photograph for an after. This reminds me I need to go shopping.
That’s how long I have to write this post before I have next to no time to proof a giant document and send it to the printers. Did I mention we received it on my first day and today is my FOURTH day? Yeah. That’s not a whole lot of time to proof things… Welcome to the retail world, Manda!
Last night I didn’t make it home until almost 9 p.m.. I wanted to get to the box but the 6:30 class was cancelled, then back on, but I was already too far away to make it in time and I’ll be damned if I’m going to do 10 burpees for every minute late.
I went to DSW for a pair of boots as I was sick of the shoes I had on– the heels were ruined and I was getting shin splints from them. Not cool. I found a pair on clearance and grabbed a pair of leggings a size smaller than I bought last year. Queue applause and cheers.
I then remembered I told mom I’d go to her place to feed the kitties and pick up some money as she’s helping me, for hopefully the last time, to bail me out of financial ruin. It was also trick or treat in town so I had to get the candy on the stoop. The cats nearly gnawed my ankles off and the kids took handfuls of candy and talked to mom for about 10 minutes before heading home.
Stock in pot. Sausage in stock Veggies chopped. Stop tearing from onions. Garlic smashed. Kitchen is an effing disaster. Where the hell is my ladle? UP AT THE CABIN, THAT’S WHERE!!!!! Dammit now I have to buy a new ladle.
(10 minutes left)
The soup came together in about a half hour and I had to improvise severely to get it all blended together. I was eating dinner at 10 p.m. and I was in my bedroom finding clothes for the next day by 11.
I was… I’d love to say upset to say… but I’m not really all that upset about it– My dresses no longer fit.
At all. I should have anticipated this because my shoes no longer fit as my feet have shrunk in the process of losing 40 pounds in a summer. I started the process with about 10-14 dresses. I now have about 4, if you don’t count the many kimono dresses I own, which aren’t work-appropriate. Even my favorite little black dress that made me look super skinny now makes me look fat because it doesn’t fit. It hit the goodwill pile with a sad look on my face.
Today I’m wearing a drapey dress with a slip under that had to be clipped to avoid baggage and so it wouldn’t slip down to the point where my bright orange bra would be hanging out the top. It’s a purchase I made from Target last year along with two others of the same style, different patterns. The slips all have to be taken in but the outer bits all fit fine, as they cinch in at the waist. It’s my saving grace, I tell ya. I put on my boots and brand new leggings and headed out the door in a frenzy this morning.
I guess I know what my first paycheck is going toward.
No crossfit last night. The baby was born though! Baby Girl Avelyn Grace was born a little after 6 a.m. today and I can’t wait to meet her and see her in her woollens.
The soup is delicious, not that I can take the time to savor it.
2 minutes to spare and I’m back to work! Have a great day, all!