The End: An Interpretation

I've loved all the wrap-up posts that have gone before, but as I hit the end of my personal PCP and tried to think of what to say, the whole idea suddenly became absurd. Still processing what it's meant, what will happen going forward. But the end of these 90 days must be marked, and perhaps the act of trying to do a wrap up will produce something worthwhile.

All my gratitude to my fellow PCPers--those who went before and whose honesty inspired me to try it to; Stu, Nathaly, and Ramiro, who shared the experience with me; and the new teams who are coming up fast and looking fine. Thank you, Patrick, for everything--patience, encouragement, and the project itself.

The Good Stuff

Before.......................................................After

Days: 90
Workouts: 90
Workouts At Night: 3
Days Off Grams: 4, due to vacation
Pounds Lost: 30
Clothing Sizes Dropped: 3
Minutes Spent Cooking, Boring Meals Eaten, Dishes Washed: countless

The pants to one of my suits. They shrank this much by the middle of the project,
I had them tailored to fit again, and then it happened again.
The second photo is an example of elephant butt.

The Bad Stuff

I've made great progress and found my face again (hello, cheekbones!). But there's still that spare tire around my middle, and the wobbly bits at the inner thighs and under arms. It's good to celebrate the end of an extended exercise in willpower, but also annoying. This doesn't feel like a triumphant finish, because I'm still so far from my goals.

Spent some time trying on the clothes I've been hauling around the world because it's been easier to let the moving services pack and unpack them than to weed. Many of my old favorites are too small--within reach, but too small. This means that I have clothes that are way too big, and clothes that are about a month or two away from fitting, depending on how hard I work, and nothing to wear right now. Guess it's time to invest a little money on temporary holding clothes.

The Lesson Learned

What I wanted from the PCP, aside from weight loss/muscle gain, was daily experience in incorporating healthy, home-cooked food into my life. I started as a special-occasion cook, someone who only liked to be in the kitchen as a hobby and thought of everyday food as something you grabbed takeaway, delivery, microwaveable. There were more days than you might imagine possible when a giant bowl of popcorn covered in butter and cheese was my main meal of the day--my own version of the salt-fat overload in manufactured foodlike products, consumed mostly as something to crunch while reading. Meanwhile, trying to plan meals for a whole week and buy all the ingredients for them at once felt exhausting and difficult.

What did I have for dinner last night?

A piece of toast, spread with half an avocado, topped with a sliced tomato and a chicken breast.

I did salt the chicken, and add a luxurious small pat of butter to the cooking oil, but it was healthy and tasty and fast. This is much better everyday food, and the months of practice mean that my steps in making it were swift, economical, practical, efficient.

How do I grocery shop now? Exactly as I should, with the added knowledge that I no longer forget vegetables until they mold. They're an essential part of every meal. And fruit has somehow stepped out of the shadows. It used to feel like too much trouble to wash, slice, get up and grab from the fridge. Now it's a source of pleasure so strong that I still have no urge to seek out dessert.

How do I keep my energy up now? Instead of tea midmorning and soda midafternoon, which used to feel like unbreakable rituals making the workday possible, it's small snacks. They're light, quick, flavorful hits of fruit or yogurt that keep me alert and moving.

The crazy thing, which ties into Patrick's most recent blog post, is that none of this is new or earth-shattering. They're all the most basic of commonsense ideas. But it took three months of unbreakable fidelity to external rules to learn experientially that they work, and that they're actually easier than the alternatives.

It turns out my husband was right all along about working out at home and jumping rope. He's been trying since 2007 to get me to jump--I even tried once to get into a routine, but the tripping pissed me off after several tries and I didn't persevere. It's been clear for a while now that I am a minimalist in working out, and this kind of exercise suits my schedule and level of interest. Although I'll never force myself to do it every single day, no exceptions, again. Anyone else zone out a bit while jumping and then, when the round has stopped, think more consciously about what passed through over those minutes? At the end of my first set on day 88, I was horrified to discover that I'd been contemplating the best way to land so as to hurt or break my ankle and get out of the rest of the day's jumps. They weren't painful, I wasn't tripping, there was nothing wrong except that I just didn't want to be doing them. At least one rest day a week, for mental health.

The Future

The question everyone asks now, including me, is what next?

Probably 40-minute workouts daily, half jump rope, half muscle. Probably my familiar PCP breakfast of oatmeal, carrots, egg, and milk, and the same morning, afternoon, and evening snacks (but I'll spoon the yogurt straight out of the container and eat whole fruits instead of cutting and weighing them). Probably half or more lunches and dinners a week cooked at home. Probably a single beer, glass of wine, or post-meal scotch once or twice a week.

Lots of hiking. Maybe I'll pick up the squash racket again. More collaborative cooking with my husband and less selfishness--he's been generous in making do, so I had enough food for lunches and the occasional night off, but he more than deserves to be eating as well as I do.

(Today's hike--we'd already climbed one hill, and then had to go all the way down
just to climb up again over the Twins in the middle of the frame. The views were amazing.
My legs were stronger than ever, though I still flagged on the second and third ascents.)

It's a journey. This three-month rocket burn has accelerated my fitness, I hope to achieve escape velocity from the old, bad habits. We'll see.

Day Ninety: That's All, Folks

Well, it's 11pm on Day 90. Workout was so fast this morning and felt great. Because I had an important call to make tonight, and because final pictures still need to be taken, I kept strict diet until 9:30, and then had a taste of tom yum and pad thai, and a few sips of an expensive scotch. It's a good night.

I'm still processing the whole experience, and hoping that--when I sit down this weekend to write my wrap-up post--something new will come out of my fingers. Right now, very few thoughts. It's good to relax.

Day Eighty-Nine: Almost There

I celebrated the almost end of the project by going out to watch other people eat Korean barbecue. Sigh. It doesn't actually sting any more, but it's still not really my favorite activity. During the meal, I kept trying to figure out how much I'd be eating and of what. I certainly would have ordered quite a few more vegetable dishes. Hooray for educated taste buds!

Also, today's workout: WTF. I am so looking forward to tomorrow. Go, Fantastic Carrot! We did it!

Day Eighty-Seven: With A Little Help

One of the interesting things on these blogs is how few of us talk much about the support we get from friends. We do tend to talk about our family members, but not so much the friends. I have to say that mine have been instrumental. They've encouraged me, they've listened to me whine, and one of them even cooked a PCP-positive meal for me and offered to do it again (bliss).

Of course, there's the dark side, too. Some people have taken to saying, "When you can eat again, we'll do this; when you can drink again..." It's funny, but trying to gently correct them and point out that I'm not going to reverse all my results by returning to all my former mindless habits falls on deaf ears. In many people's vision of the plan, because the diet was so limiting and because it was such a well-defined time period, that must mean that it's the same as a crash diet.

I've said that I don't actually think I'll want pizza on Saturday or barbecue on Sunday or any of the other fatty delicious things people are planning for me. The plan is chai tea on Saturday morning, brewed with whole milk and plus enough sugar to make the spices pop. On Monday, I'll go to lunch on Wellington Street and get a bowl of noodle soup with fish balls and lots of greens. On Thursday, there's a big Sichuan meal planned. It's strange, but otherwise I don't care to be that indulgent.

(I'm a Tsim Chai Kee partisan. Love those giant fish balls,
flavored with something vaguely fennel-like.)

My near future is up in the air, but should be settled in the next couple of weeks. I've been in the process of getting a next assignment for a few months now--almost since beginning the PCP--and soon it will be over. As the time nears, and the phone interviews heat up, and different priorities compete, and the uncertainty ratchets high, it's a little destabilizing to be leaving the certainty of all these rules and plans for a yet-to-be-charted food and exercise future.

In at least one way, it's a good thing, though. I could really use a drink.

Day Eighty-Six: End Euphoria

I know we're not there yet, I know the toughest workouts lie ahead, I know that afterward there will be lots of challenges to meet. But for right now, I'm high on the idea that there are only three more serious workouts to go, and then I can rest a little.

It's funny, because as usual Stu and I are on the exact opposite page. He's having deep thoughts about the future and seeking out extra ab challenge (and crushing it, yo). I'm working hard, but with my head down, counting the days. He did remind me of something important, which is to focus on the activity that inspired me to start this. It's been several weeks since I've hiked. Last weekend's plans were canceled because of a typhoon in the area that ended up swerving off. The weather was perfect on Saturday, and yet I mostly stayed in and slept. So here's a plan for the future.

First, I am the captain of a team of eight signed up for this charity walk on November 13. It starts at 10:30pm, and ends whenever we finish the 20k. One of our team members fondly imagines that it'll take long enough to have celebratory dim sum in the morning, but I think we'll finish around 3am, even with a slow pace, and head home for some sleep.

The week after, the real challenge starts. As you may know, Hong Kong has four long-distance trails that are pretty well-maintained, and divided into manageable sections. I've hiked the entire Lantau Trail, and parts of the Hong Kong Trail. In mid-November, I'm going to start doing one piece or more of the 100k MacLehose Trail each weekend at least until my family arrives for Christmas. It will encompass gorgeous views of the ocean, vistas down into the beating heart of urban Kowloon, the famous monkey trail (where you shouldn't carry a grocery bag--they recognize the logos and steal those), the highest point in not-terribly-high HK, and lots and lots of stairs. I'm looking forward to attacking them with these leg muscles and this conditioning. Jasper, Bill, if you're free on Saturdays, join us!

Day Eighty-Four: New Ab Exercise

One of our two current homework assignments is to find a new ab exercise. Inspired by my husband, who loves bodyweight stuff and seeks out inspiration frequently, and by Sara's badass homemade incline workout, I went to Ross.



What about that roller exercise at 20 seconds in? Okay, you're right, that's insane. Especially since he's doing it one-handed and with what appears to be extra weight strapped to his back. At any rate, if you're looking for ideas on new bodyweight workouts or homemade exercise equipment, I recommend checking out his site.

Luke owns his book, Never Gymless, and it has a nice, tough-looking but doable ab exercise. Lay on your back with your arms out in a T shape. Lift legs up to 90 degrees. Lower them in a controlled motion to the left, keeping the rest of the body as still as possible. Just before they touch the ground, stop and lift up again to center. Repeat on the other side.

Day Eighty-Three: Rough Week

It was kind of a rough week at work--lots of running around, all three people in my office with computers down from various reasons for two days, etc, which is why no blog posts. All I want to do at night is crash. I sort of solved the eating problem by having caramelized onions and eggs with a piece of toast for dinner three nights in a row, which has the added benefit of being very fast and easy to cook, once you've caramelized a large batch of onions. Although it doesn't taste excellent, having no freaking butter. Scrambled eggs should always be cooked in butter.

Is anyone else a little freaked out about the last week of exercises? Those who have gone before have talked about supersets and how hard they are. I feel like the workout this morning was more than difficult enough, thank you. SEVEN sets of triceps dips!?!

There is a nice little story from yesterday, though. Running late in the morning, starting the workout ten minutes after the drop-dead time, already going to be late to work. All through the workout, I'm telling myself, "JFD. You will be running from now until 9:30 pm and this workout has to get done now. You can skip the stupid time-consuming planks and do 8 min abs tonight." I justified skipping those planks six ways to Sunday, and then, when the workout was otherwise finished, found myself doing a plank, marveling the entire minute and forty-five seconds that it was happening. Only the first one was any good, as usual, and I skipped the last set. But it still felt like a personal triumph.

Finally, the body image stuff. Today, wore new jeans for the first time. They're the same size as the ones I've been wearing recently, but cut to be less forgiving at the waist, and they feel good on. On the other hand, I went to the tailor yesterday to order a formal dress for an event in November, and got charged extra for being an inch bigger than the largest LAG size. Okay, that was more funny than upsetting. I spared a moment to feel sorry for the LAG measuring me, considering her likely fate in Grace's disaster movie scenario.

Day Eighty: No Freaking Appetite

The last two days have been torture. My portions are he-you-ge these days, and nothing seems appealing. Can this still be post-indulgence letdown? Only I don't think indulgence food would be appealing, either.

Yesterday, I didn't pack lunch, and bought a large salad with most of a can of tuna on it and a bunch of dry toast. I only managed half the salad. As I forked up bite after bite, my gag reflex got in the way and made eating any more impossible. In the evening, my husband made buttered toast. It smelled great, and my stomach was growling, but I also felt a little nauseated by it. I'd eaten the citrus chicken and couscous at my bookclub meeting in approximate portion sizes, and added some vegetables when I got home. Yesterday, I was probably way under grams, which means that I got hungry very easily today.

And yet it only takes a few bites of food before I start feeling revolted again. Lunch was just egregiously large, and dinner was another long fight with the gag reflex. This is food that last week was very appetizing to me. I've adopted throwing my hands up in a v in the air at the end of every meal: triumph over giant portions is mine! But what I really want is egg white, apple, milk, like the next generation over there.

Day Seventy-Nine: Post-Indulgence

So the indulgence was really fun, but I have the weirdest hangover of my life. Also, I barely took any photos because I was too busy indulging. I made, as promised, four old favorite recipes. Three delivered, and my husband claims the fourth failed because of a bad ingredient.

1. Maple toasted walnuts: fail; bad walnuts. We've had them before and they were way better. Got consumed anyway, mostly by a friend.

2. Broiled pork tenderloin with garlic and rosemary: great success. I felt they were a little undercooked, but the crew ate so much that there was nothing left over.

(They were just surprised I was taking the picture. The pork was enthusiastically dished and snarfed.)

3. Risotto with gorgonzola and sage: massive success. Except for the guy who gets sick when he eats blue cheese (did not tell me this in response to my pre-shopping inquiry), everyone had multiple servings. This recipe includes two cups of rice, a stick of butter, and a quarter pound of cheese, not to mention the parmesan for garnish. It was everything I was missing and more. I had two small servings and almost stopped there, but the bowl still on the table a half hour after we'd all finished eating called to me and I had a little more. Wouldn't have done it if not for the thought: you can't have even a tiny little bite tomorrow.

(Also salad with oranges and homemade vinaigrette for contrast and greens.)

4. Lemon granita: so, so, so good and refreshing. Hong Kong is "cooling off," by which I mean that we just feel pleasantly warm in our short sleeves and no longer sweat the second we step outdoors. Ices are still in season. This one is just lemon juice, lemon zest, spring water, and superfine sugar. No photo because I was too busy eating. It's powerful, so portions are always small, but I had two.

I know, the only really indulgent thing on the list is the risotto, but there was salt on everything, and sugar in three of the dishes, and lots and lots of wine with dinner. Also, people to have fun with in a casual situation that involves food and drink. We played an impromptu game of Balderdash (I won, of course), and just generally had a great time until I kicked everyone out just before 11.

(See the water pitcher on the table? I drank lots of that, too.)

The fallout today was instructive. I didn't have a traditional headache-y hangover, but did have some rough intestinal effects this morning, probably from all the wine. I had to go back to the bathroom after jumping rope, and back again after finishing the strength exercises. After that, it was pretty normal. There was also strong afternoon fatigue, combined with a powerful revulsion toward food, even as my stomach rumbled. I wasn't able to finish my tuna salad at lunch--the gag reflex was just too strong.

The important lesson here is actually one learned long ago: you don't have to keep on drinking to keep on having fun. Again, I think this was more an effect of the knowledge of no more wine for another few weeks, because pre-project I was really good at stopping at a glass or two. I think it'll be easy to go back to that habit. Also, I always thought of this meal as indulgent (even before), but one of my guests said it was the healthiest thing he'd eaten in the last month. So lesson two is that when I actually cook, I generally cook good stuff. Just need to keep it to only one indulgent thing for a special meal, and a small portion of that.

Day Seventy-Seven: Thank you

Thank you all for the thoughtful, helpful, and just plain funny comments on my last post. You guys make the world a better place to live. Special love to the "graduates" who are still coming back to cheer us on and tell us that post-PCP isn't the end of the world. Ilan, I'd love to read a post on what happens weeks later--do it! Tara, Andy, Stu, Patrick, you guys are the best. Sarah, fine, I do feel stronger. And Grace, you are so so right about LAGS. We would eat them first, because they'd be tastier and easier to take down.

I managed the workout on Friday night, even though I didn't start until after 8 pm, and today's rest-day jump roping. Tomorrow, it's indulgence time. I'm planning to cook, and to make four old favorite recipes. Am curious to see how they'll taste after this period of detox--Patrick said to blow it out, so there will be sugar, and cheese, and butter, and salt. Stay tuned for photos.

Day Seventy-Five: Losing Steam

Well, guys, I'm losing a little steam over here. Part of it is not enough sleep three nights in a row. Part of it is this: I'm starting to accept that I won't be perfect at the end of this thing.

I know: it's a journey. No one's ever perfect. These are the tools, blah, blah. And that's all fine. When I'm an adult, which is most of the time, they're enough.

But it's day 75, I've been working my ass off for months, and when this is over, I still won't want to be seen anywhere in a bathing suit. The results earlier folks got, combined with that weird self-image problem so many of us have, in which we look better to ourselves in the mirror than we do when we catch an unexpected glimpse or in photos, made me think that I could hit the end of this thing looking ordinary. Not ripped, not skinny, just ordinary.

Well, I'll achieve that, sort of, and will be ordinarily chubby. That's certainly better than flat-out fat, but it's not what I wanted. It was an unrealistic dream, seeing as I'm trying to counteract the effect of two and a half years of self-neglect (and some self-sabotage). But the dream is dying hard.

Effect: today I slept an extra hour and didn't manage the workout till evening, which will ripple into tomorrow when I'll need to evening workout again. Also I didn't cook anything last night (nasty but effective bowl of tuna and corn for dinner), which meant that lunch was a huge salad with more tuna and some dry toast. It was a real slog to get through.

The good news is that my husband stepped up. He pushed me to exercise tonight. For the second half of the workout, he talked while I sweated and counted. And then--this is true love--he got down on the floor and did planks with me. Even though I sucked as much as usual at them, I felt less defeated at the end. Afterward, he tag-teamed me in the kitchen so that now I have chicken and vegetables to go on the 10-grain bread I made last weekend for lunch tomorrow. I love him.

Back on the subject of planks, I just don't get them. My shoulders and back hurt like hell, but my abs don't seem to feel them at all. Luke stood up and checked my form and said that I was doing them right. Is there something else I should be concentrating on? I tell myself that there are only four sets of planks left in this thing and then I never have to do them again. But they're the only thing in the workout that I don't understand and that make me feel worse about myself, no matter what I do.

Day Seventy-Two: Vacated

I missed you guys! I'm looking forward to reading everyone's blogs later today. But first: vacation summary, in the form of a report card.

(View from a little boat on the Li River.)

Exercise: A+

Got all the exercises in, with my poor husband covering his ears and trying to catch another hour of sleep while I hopped, panted, and sweated my way around our room. At his suggestion, I jumped without the rope for the last two days in the interest of reducing noise--he tells me that the great Sugar Ray Robinson just swung the rope next to him on each side and didn't bother jumping over it. Major benefit: when pantomiming, there are no trips and no sneaky little 2-second breaks while recovering. It turns out that my jumping at home with the rope again today was much more smooth, too. Final score: 18 minutes of jumping, 1 minute of rest, and one solitary trip in the last set!

On the second day we rented bikes and went tooling around the Chinese countryside. Guilin is famous for its beautiful and oddly-shaped mountains and we got some spectacular views. Left the hotel at 9:30, returned at 4:30, stopped several times in the middle to float down the river, grab lunch, and hike up a hill. The hike was a personal triumph for me--more than 800 steps, and I didn't stop once on the way up to catch my breath. The guys only waited at the top of Moon Hill for a couple of minutes before I hove into view.

(On top of Moon Hill. Wish my arms had more definition already.)

It would be even more exciting except that there were a dozen little old wrinkled Chinese women climbing up almost as fast, toting styrofoam coolers with water and soft drinks for sale, and fanning tourists with one hand as they did. We really admired how hard they worked for a few kuai, but it was tough to get rid of them if you didn't need their services. As we came down off the trail, an ElderHostel group had just arrived and there were ladies trotting toward them from all directions, looking hopeful that this group would spend more freely than we had.

The major negative of all that bike riding: combined with jump rope the next morning, it gave me a major calf cramp that's still a tough little knot down there. On the last day, we spent several hours walking around the city of Guilin, but we went really slow and I was limping.

(But calf cramps don't stop you from using weird public exercise equipment!)

Eating: C-

A passing grade, but barely. I packed all my breakfasts and fruit snacks, but the rooms did not have refrigerators as advertised, so the fruit fermented quickly and my breakfast carbs were nasty by the last day. Dairy in general is pretty scarce, and I managed about 2/3 of my yogurt and dairy component. For fruit, I just ate whole small oranges, apples, a slice of watermelon, etc.

As for lunch and dinner. Well. Sometimes in China you order eggplant and you get peeled, steamed eggplant covered in minced garlic, with no salt and very little oil. Sometimes, you get eggplant that's been sliced, deep fried, and then covered in a thick pork-MSG sauce. (I had both, though I only took a few bites of the fried eggplant after shaking off most of the lovely sauce.) Often you order greens with "xiao you, xiao yan" (small oil, small salt), and you get a plate swimming in salty oil anyway. I confess that I didn't even try hard with ordering the meats--just ate the chicken without the skin, and the fish without dredging it first in the sauce. There was some pork in there, too. For two nights, I ate uninspired dinner salads without dressing. Overall, the first day was sort of transgressive fun to be forced to eat off plan (I did have a bite of fried egg scallion pancake and it was overwhelming and delicious), and the rest were just annoying.

(Catfish that was living 10 minutes before this photo was taken--tasty and pretty PCP-compliant, too.
Oh, and I'd like to point out that there's nothing but tea in my cup on the left.
Aside from a single sip of a great Belgian beer, I avoided the temptations of alcohol.)

Sleep: B

Mostly full nights. Since we went for the cheap flights, there was much arriving after midnight. Got home this morning just past three am, slept 7 broken hours, worked out, and managed a first bite of food around noon.

(A panorama from near the end of the bike trip.)

Overall, a solid B for the trip. It was good to try taking these principles on the road, but I'm happy to be reunited with my scale and with food I have total control over. I don't know if I made any fat-burning progress this week, but the muscles, at least, are still growing.

Day Sixty-Six: The New Normal

Our previous classes of PCPers talked a lot about hitting a new normal and, folks, I think I'm there. It's no longer a negotiation with myself to get up and work out at the drop dead time--now I usually start a few minutes earlier than absolutely necessary. And the food is just plugging along. It feels so much less time-consuming than at the beginning, though I do still spend hours a week in the kitchen.

It's also finally having the payoff I looked for in evening discipline. The last few nights in a row, I've just trotted off to study, instead of collapsing on the couch. And the studying was fun and rewarding, too. Things I've been telling myself for years and not acting on: take 1,000,000.

In the diet, I am so happy to be back to evening fruit. Evening veg was much more difficult and much less tasty. Sugar in the evening, even natural fruit sugar, is more delicious. Am a little annoyed that back day is going to be our first morning on the road; there's no way I'm traveling for three nights with a pull-up bar in tow. Patrick--is it all right to switch that with the previous day workout? Or do you have an alternate suggestion for the kung fu sit-ups?

Day Sixty-Four: Sleeping All The Time

Hey, team, is anyone else still exhausted all the time? I seem to remember previous teams talking about their crazy energy, and how they feel so good, etc. My experience is more exhaustion, including sometimes extreme sleepiness after lunch. And the weekends--wow. I've taken hours-long naps two days in a row, from which it's nearly impossible to wake. Anyone else?

Other than that, I've got a vacation coming up starting Thursday to enjoy and stress over. I think I'll pack complete breakfasts for all four days. I know I can get yogurt, milk, fruit there. Should I pack lunches and dinners as well? Maybe just half lunches and dinners? (The hotels will have fridges, but we might spend hours in transit a couple of days in a row). Or should I take a chance that the hotels/restaurants can provide appropriate food? It's an area that's used to Western tourists and my dinners this week have gone back to protein and veg, so I'm inclined to take the chance.

Those of you who have traveled, especially in China, what did you do?

Day Sixty-Two: Guest Post

A friend of ours has been staying with us off and on for nearly my whole project. He's using our apartment as a base for exploring East Asia from mid-August to mid-November. When he first arrived, I was in week two of the diet, about where the newest class is now. I asked what I should blog about tonight and he offered this comment:

"I think the diet seems like the best thing about it. Not as much eating using these strict rules, but the fact you trained yourself to make good food. Whereas the food in the beginning looked pretty horrible, now it looks like something I would eat. There's some amount of training yourself to make good food that doesn't have to be covered in salt and butter. It's at least more aesthetically pleasing now than it was in the early days."

It's a little ironic that I get this lovely encomium on my cooking skills on a day when I had a pretty gross bowl of whole wheat pasta, tuna in spring water, and corn with no seasonings for lunch, but he's right. Since those early days, I at least haven't been in a position of choking food down, fighting my gag reflex.

In workout news, I think it's a terrible mistake to put bicycles and planks on the same day--WTF? I had no willpower left for the planks and barely managed to stay up for the entire first one. And then five sets? FIVE!? (Patrick: on the planks, is it better to go up-and-down for the whole minute, or once you're down, start over at one minute and call that the next set?) Of course, after getting through that yesterday, today's workout felt like the easiest thing ever.

Day Sixty: Two Midnights Gone!

Hey, everyone! I'm over my sulk, although it took me a good long time. Perhaps it helped that the pants I wore to work today were suddenly pretty darned loose. Will put up new pics this weekend so you guys can see the continued shrinkage. I'm now at the place where I wish I'd started. It seems unlikely that only 30 more days can make a dramatic enough difference for me to pop out with amazing shoulders/back like Grace, or arms like Sarah, but I'll work at it and see if my body can surprise me.

Naty was talking about a little bit of loosening up in her diet, and I've engaged in some these past few days, too, although in a typical teeny, control-freak sort of way. On Monday, I had a book club meeting, and the host was so proud of herself for making no-fat, no-salt pico de gallo just for me that I had to have some. So I had a single corn tortilla with some salsa around my normal dinner time, and ended up having dinner around the normal evening veg time, and called that a night.

On Tuesday night, Luke and I made Thai beef salad. This is mostly PCP-compliant, except for the tbsp of sugar that goes into the sauce. But I rationalized it away as a small part of a much larger and more complex flavor (loads of lime juice, some Thai chilies, a drop of fish sauce, a huge handful of cilantro). It smelled delicious, but I held off tasting and instead packed my small container for lunch with great anticipation. The guys ate the remaining 90% of the dish right away.

I spent all morning in a state of high excitement, waiting for lunch. Delicious, y'all. The sugar's just there to keep the lime from being overwhelming--can't taste it.

And yet, it's time to get back to being really strict. If there's a little slip every day, even if these slips are so small and so mostly healthy, I don't think my body will learn what I want it to know. At two-thirds finished, I still don't miss sugar. Fruit is really delicious and satisfying. And I can see that cheese and nuts really are garnishes, not key ingredients of most meals. As I said to Naty in the comments somewhere or other, I think of following this diet to the letter as a way of practicing good habits over a long period of time, encoding them into muscle memory and taste memory, making them my defaults.

You heard it here: no more sips of pork bone ramen broth, no more edamame as veg, no more carbs after lunch, no more secret ingredients in my flavorings. At least, not for the next 30 days.

As for the workouts, they're hard, but not hard, if that makes sense. My muscles burn, I sweat like crazy, but it's not difficult to get started or to work hard. At past periods, I've had great workout routines and been committed to them, and this seems to slot into that tradition. And I feel more committed to exercise now than at any time other than my one-year flirtation with running (pre-back injury), because someone else has done the hard part of choosing the exercises with several different goals in mind, and I just have to stop worrying and power through.

Day Fifty-Seven: Bitter

I've been going back and forth over whether to post yet more whining here, or just let it sit for a few days. But we're supposed to blog it out, so consider yourselves warned: if you read this all, you're going to need a whaaaaambulance.

In response to yesterday's slough of self-pity, Patrick told me to focus on what I'm GAINING. Other than weight, you mean, this week for the first time in the project? I am furious about that, since I'm still covered in plenty of fat and have heretofore been dropping 2 - 4 pounds a week. You will never convince me that I gained so much more muscle than usual in the past week (or two weeks ago, or whatever) to completely cancel out the usual fat loss. My muscles certainly don't look any bigger. Also, my clothes all fit the same as last week. Really frustrating. But I banged out the workout this morning, packed a lunch, and hit the trail anyway.

The bargain is supposed to be I do the diet and work hard at the exercises and, in return, I lose fat (fail this week), gain fitness (was just as out of breath on the uphills as someone who hasn't exercised in a year on the hike today), and eat better (one out of three!).

Anyway, the other thing I've been urged to do is avoid situations where I watch people eat. But that conflicts with my inspiration activity. Case in point. Today we went to Po Toi for a lovely 5k up-and-down hike. And then everyone else had a well-deserved seafood feast and I snarfed a sandwich. It was a good sandwich, but totally didn't compare. So should I have skipped these views in favor of staying home and feeling lonely?

(On the way down and out to Monk's Point.)

(The ocean in late afternoon from the ferry.)

Or should I have once again sat and watched people feast and not joined in?

(Five of about ten dishes on the set menu.)

(The chili crab, staring at me mournfully since I wouldn't honor her sacrifice by chowing down.)

I chose option two, as you can tell from the pictures. It was a good day, overall. But now everyone's headed back out for dinner and beer and I am sitting around alone and feeling frustrated (Option one! I can has both miseries in one day!). I'll keep up my end of the bargain these last 30-odd days, but don't expect me to be cheerful about the missed opportunities. Especially if there are any more weeks where I do every fucking thing right and gain nothing but weight.

Day Fifty-Six: Them Apples

My grocery store's produce aisles were pathetic tonight. Apples were all tiny and mostly varieties that taste like cardboard here, only three packs of carrots to choose from, etc. And today, despite a really delicious and huge-looking lunch, I am as hungry as I've been since the first week.

(Lunch, you seem so long ago.
Chicken with yesterday's mustard paste recipe, roasted broccoli and peppers, rice,
oyster mushrooms with garlic and a tidge of soy.)

Meanwhile, I'm feeling lonely and left out. My husband has two good friends in town and they're drinking beer and eating their way around Hong Kong. Usually, I'd join in for a little bit and then happily send them off on their own. Now that I can't join in at all, I'm sort of morose. Got out this afternoon for some walking and shopping with them, then met up with a friend for tea and errands, and that was all fun. But the second I got home, the gloom redescended. Now, the guys are out getting delicious Indian food.

My dinner is an egg white, some milk, and--since I'm starving and they're ridiculously small--TWO granny smiths. How do you like them apples?

Day Fifty-Five: Still Okay

Another Friday night, another few hours watching everyone else drink and socialize. It was especially galling after last night, although I would have preferred staying home and not drinking to anything else. But it was a goodbye party for two valued colleagues, so we went.

Other than that, the lack of consequences from the indulgence yesterday continue. Patrick claims that this is because I eat FOOD. Honestly, that's what I crave. There are some decent flavor hacks that can kind of mask the lack of fat and salt, but I miss them. As I may have mentioned before, fruit easily takes the place of sugar for me, so no need to go running after the sweet stuff. When it's indulgence time, I just crave complete food, food that's not at a massive disadvantage from what it's missing.

That said, here's a flavor-booster for meat that's pretty good. Take equal amounts lemon zest, ginger, and garlic (say, 1 tsp each). Mix with about twice as much dijon mustard (say, 2 tbsp) and a tidge of olive oil. Maybe sprinkle on some pepper. Use to flavor tuna or chicken or whatever.

Day Fifty-Four: Indulgences Should Be Every Day

I love indulgences, and I don't seem to have any ill effects from them. Tonight's indulgence:

(Mmmm.)

Mussels in a fennel and cilantro broth, one piece of rye bread, selected fries from friends' portions (no more than 15 total, and I think fewer), three small bites of fatty delicious pig knuckle, a rocket salad with some tomatoes, parmesan shavings, and a vinaigrette, and 2.5 glasses of pinot grigio. Delicious. Plus the evening was good fun, and I heard a hilarious story about one of my favorite coworkers from his new girlfriend. I'll let you know tomorrow if there are any longer-term ill effects, but right now I feel great.

(And a little drunk.)

Day Fifty-Two: In Which I Leave the Apartment After Dark

Thanks for all the hike comments, folks. I have plans to get out to the southernmost island of HK on Sunday if the aftereffects of this typhoon aren't still hanging around, drizzling on us. It mostly let up tonight, enough to head out to the mid-Autumn festival lights in Victoria Park.

(A friendly lion, or the friendliest lion ever?)

Because of the rain, I think, the place was nearly deserted, although it was clearly set up for massive crowds. The lights reflected beautifully on the wet pavement.

Afterward, we walked along through a familiar neighborhood and stopped at a ramen joint for Luke to have dinner. I was starving, despite having eaten egg white, apple, etc, so ordered edamame without salt as evening veg. Hope it's not a problem to count soybeans as veg for one night. They'd clearly been cooked in a salty broth, but if I just delicately pulled the beans out with my teeth, they didn't taste salty at all. I also had one teeny sip of the pork bone soup base. It was divine--bacon-y.

I don't feel bad about having the small taste, but rather concerned. Believe it or not, this is the second time in the whole project that I've allowed myself to have "just a taste" of anything, and the slip in self-control is worrying. Could it be the beginning of a slippery slope? But there was no further consumption, or even an urge to eat more, so perhaps it's nothing to worry about. Indulgence planned for Thursday, which is a holiday here. Stay tuned. Until then, peacock lanterns, for your amusement.

(This is so not Hong Kong - there were few enough people around that it was possible to wait for them all to wander out of my shot.)

Day Fifty: Sluggish Sunday

I may have mentioned before that the PCP seems to wear me out over the course of a week, such that I need at least one day of the weekend to sleep for hours and recharge. That was today. Left the house only to watch my husband eat Vietnamese and grocery shop. And I still feel tired.

The rest of the weekend was nice and busy. On Saturday, I got out for a little hike with a friend--here's us at the top of Dragon's Back out near Shek O.

(The South China Sea is so lovely.)

You can't tell, but my entire t-shirt was drenched with sweat. Good times. Here's to another week, guys. May it be a good one.

Day Forty-Eight: Amnesty Day

I almost feel sorry to say it, but it was a good day, ya'll. I skipped working out and packing lunch this morning in favor of my pre-PCP morning habits, and it was fantastic. Other than an abundance of morning energy at work (positive), and a feeling of lightness and freedom from not being late to work or carrying an extra bag because of lunch-packing, no side effects. Since I live close enough to walk home for lunch, even hitting all my grams was no sweat. Got to the workout at 8:30pm, not too worried since tomorrow is jumprope only day, and it was hard, but I killed it.

On the one hand, it was a great day and I enjoyed it all. On the other hand, it would have been more motivating to have some ill consequences. Should I call this a workout/planning indulgence, or declare every Friday morning amnesty day?

Day Forty-Seven: Snickerdoodles

I had to make cookies for a bake sale tomorrow, and invited down a neighbor and her five-year-old to help out. Because the kid was so demanding of attention--she had to work the hand mixer, and measure and dump all the ingredients, and no, we couldn't help scrape the bowl--I stopped paying attention to what I was doing and fell into old habits. And then was all, "What's that delicious--? Oh, wait. Oops. Better stop licking those butter-and-sugar covered fingertips."

The weird thing? The cookies smell fantastic, but I actually don't want one. I'll leave a couple for my husband to enjoy with coffee, and sell the rest off in the morning without a qualm.

Hey, team, is anyone else feeling sluggish about working out lately? I don't know if it's the tougher workouts, or just the fact that I've exercised for forty-freaking-seven days IN A ROW, but I've just had a more and more difficult time scraping up motivation every morning. And how about those crazy new sit-ups today?

Also: hello, new PCPers! There sure are a lot of you to welcome. Looking forward to hearing your thoughts and seeing your progress.

Edited to add: Is it a bad sign that I skipped workout and skipped packing lunch today and I feel great? Of course I'll go home for lunch and work out tonight, but the euphoria of having a relaxed morning with no sweating and no rushing and no chores! Is this the valley. If so, whee!

Day Forty-Five: Oh, Yeah!

Well, Team Four Mangoes, we've made it halfway. Go, N & R for being strong together (and exploring those vegetable options). And go, Stu, with your awesome focus despite the musician lifestyle. We are made of win.

Speaking of which, here's the stats on me. Patrick's always saying that weight is just a number, but it's one of the few we have for measuring our progress. As of now, I've lost a little over 18 pounds, and judging by the looks of things, that's about half of what needed to go. On track there. I've lost about two clothing sizes, although it's hard to tell since my old jeans died just before the project started and my suits are custom made (as mentioned before--cheap in HK). When I had them taken in last week, the tailor said I was at the max possible for taking things in--any more, and the material would need to be re-cut. So the numbers are looking good.

As for my appearance, I'm pleased with the progress, and I wish there was EVEN MORE. I especially love/hate the way my muscles are clearly getting so satisfactory under their fat blanket. Love because it's great and I feel strong. Hate because they're still covered in lumps and swags. My Chinese teacher, who I probably have a tighter relationship with than many of my friends (a couple hours a week alone together will do that) says, "Your eyes are getting deeper, and you are looking so pretty. Not pale [apparently she thought I'd starve myself for 90 days], but flushed and healthy!"

I rewarded myself for a month and a half of good, solid work with a long massage tonight. My muscles are still thanking me.

Day Forty-Three: Rainy Weekend

It rained all weekend here. Aside from a concert on Friday night, I didn't leave the apartment building. Luxury is napping and reading and movie-watching through a long weekend. And I think my body needed it--I couldn't stay awake through most of Saturday. Let's just agree to consider that muscle-repairing time well spent.

This morning's email was the one about the valley. I feel like I've been resentful and bitchy all along and am only now starting to feel normal and not so put upon, so it'll be interesting to see if I hit the traditional valley. What has been happening over the past week is me snapping at people who think I'm being too strict with myself. One friend is sincerely trying to be helpful--she thinks that this kind of strict diet can't possibly stick for good, and she's right. But she's not considering the things that I'm learning from it and the habits I'm gaining that will be transferable to the future.

Even more frustrating? I mention that I'm on a diet/exercise plan--and I've lost a substantial amount of weight, people--and no one comments that they can tell or that I'm looking better or whatever. Not even polite murmurs. Isn't that weird? I know I still look big, but I'm two freaking sizes smaller. Part of that might be masked by the fact that I got my suits altered (much cheaper and easier in HK than buying new clothes), so I'm wearing the same outfits and they still seem to fit. I'm not in this for the community approval, but since they're all commenting on my food choices, you'd think they'd manage to comment on the results if they saw them as well.

But I am pleased with my rate of progress and my husband mentions the changes he sees, and that's enough to keep me happy and motivated.

Day Forty-One: Jump Rope Nirvana

A few weeks ago, I started attempting to jump in sets of 200. Maybe once or twice a day, I'd get in a good set with hardly a hitch. I divide everything into fractions and percentages, so having a number of jumps that's a reasonable fraction (one seventh instead of one 14th, say) helps me move through the workout with good cheer. Often I could go just over 100 or 125 in between trips. These last couple of days? Many perfect or near-perfect sets of 200. Which means it's time to move up to 250.

Also, I kinda like elevated triceps dips. Hunh.

What I don't like is evening veg. I'd come to grips with breakfast veg by sometimes using dinner leftovers mixed with unflavored oatmeal, and most often chowing on carrots. It seems like a cop-out to make evening veg also the sweet, easy carrot. So there's been raw broccoli (ugh), cooked broccoli, spinach and mushrooms, and raw bell peppers. Tonight I got home late and hungry and did give in to the lure of the carrot. I miss you, nighttime mango, plum, pineapple, kiwi, grapes, peach, etc. Please come back soon.

Day Thirty-Nine: The Slog

I'm outta stuff to say for the nonce. I feel like I resort to this kind of bland update often, but I'm slogging on. Having a simple dinner with just four elements, three of them no-cook, is lovely. But I find that I'm having trouble getting my act together to cook stuff for lunches. Just resent having to spend evening time and effort on things I won't be eating when hot and at their best. Yesterday, this meant that I ended up buying a large salad, dressing it with vinegar, and then forcing my way through it. Salad is way too much volume for not enough grams.

Exercise news flash: unsurprisingly, I hate planks. Yeah. That's it.

Catch you guys later, when I have something of interest to share.

Day Thirty-Six: Thoughts on Fish and a Substitute Workout

Just before the project started for Team Fantastic Carrot, a long article ran in the NYT Magazine, excerpted from a book that's just out: Four Fish: The Future of the Last Wild Food by Paul Greenberg. The upshot: of the 23 types of commercially fished tuna, 7 are depleted and an additional 9 are threatened. Some pertinent info:

Until the modern era, the response to wild-game decline has been a primitive one: widespread destruction of the animals that can’t stand up to our hunting followed by the selection of a handful of ones that we can tame. Out of the many mammals that our forebears ate before the last ice age, humans selected four — cows, pigs, sheep and goats — to be their principal meats. Out of all the many birds that darkened the primeval skies, humans chose four — chickens, turkeys, ducks and geese — to be their poultry.

And indeed, this is a process that is taking shape rapidly with fish. Atlantic salmon are now commercially extinct throughout almost the entirety of their range but have become one of the most widely farmed fish in the world.

...

As fisheries decline globally, more and more countries are trying to replace their wild fish with farmed ones. Today 30 million tons of small forage fish are removed from the oceans yearly, with the majority of it going to feed farmed fish. If we end up farming bluefin on the same scale as we now farm salmon, the tuna, with its poor feed-conversion rate, may end up taking the food of the remaining wild fish that we haven’t yet got around to catching.

It's not just tuna. Cod, halibut, haddock, swordfish, marlin, skate--according to a recent New Yorker article (prompted by the same book plus two other recent ones on the subject), calculations are that large carnivorous wild fish have declined by 90% in the last 50 years. We're emptying the oceans fast. Basically, most of the fish you can buy at sushi restaurants or in the grocery store are neither caught nor farmed sustainably.

Of course, once the project started, we were instructed to eat lean animal protein, with fish at the top of the hierarchy of healthiness. I've been eating too much cheap tuna out of cans, finding it convenient but not delicious, and thinking all the while that I'm contributing to this culture of wild overfishing. And the farmed salmon or catfish fillets I buy aren't that much more sustainable. What to do about it? I'm trying to switch mostly to chicken, although I don't think a single source of protein is all that good. I'm jealous that Naty and Ramiro live near a lake and have access to local fish that they know doesn't come from giant purse-seiners. Probably, after this project, fish will drop mostly out of my diet again.

(Dusk on Victoria Peak)

In less global but equally frustrating news, a technical glitch meant that this week's workout sheets haven't come through yet (and it's currently after 8 pm for me). Instead of whatever today's workout should have been, I climbed Victoria Peak. My apartment is about halfway up from the harbor, but there was still a good 30 minutes at a 15-40% grade, followed by another couple of hours of flat walking combined with 15 minutes of staring at the view and the walk back down. All told, my legs got a good working out, as did the cardiovascular system. I may do some arm exercises and 8-minute abs to round it out, but no promises.

Day Thirty-Four: Today Sucked

This was a bad day.

I did the workout, though I couldn't finish the planks and have a mortifying suspicion that it was lack of willpower, not lack of muscle strength. And I hit the grams, too. But I really wanted the cookies at the staff party. And the curry my boss heated up for lunch. And the cheese and crackers at the after-work happy hour. And the really fun buzz that everyone else had going on. Saw someone who was all, we have to do another dinner! And I had to say, sure--in November.

I want to go out. I'm not a particularly frequent or heavy drinker, but on a rainy night after a long week, when everyone's in the mood to relax and be silly together, it'd be nice to join in. Instead, I nursed my bottle of water, circulated a little awkwardly, and left early to get some food that would be compliant.

One reason I'm feeling so intensely whiny is that I've been on the edge of hunger a lot of this week--and flat-out hungry pretty much all day today. What happens on Sunday, when the grams get cut again?

(My current state of mind.

BTW, Googling images of crying babies was so hilarious it kinda cheered me up a little.
But not enough to re-write this post.)

Day Thirty-Two: Team Names

Guys, the idea was that I'd say, "Hey, do we want one?" And you'd come back with, "Sure! Let's be Team Defense! Or Team Rockstars! Or Team Carrots!" And it would be easy because you'd do all the brainstorming. Let's try this again--the comments section is open.

Okay, okay. We can wait a week or two and blog lots and see what emerges in common or as a good joke between now and halfway. Surely by halfway we'll have some kind of obvious group identity, right?

In personal PCP news, I have to go to the tailor this weekend. My suits are no longer supportable officewear--more like incredibly baggy pajamas. When my coworkers have to watch me hauling up the waistband every time I stand up, it's a problem. Of course, even though that's a fantastic sign of progress, I'm not as thrilled about it as I should be. I want to know why, despite losing a size and a half, my carcass is still shrouded in so much fat. Jeez, what a mess I made of myself.

Anyway. The pure positive is that I'm seeing an exciting new thigh muscle struggling to emerge. That one that makes the sweet outer curve on the front. I first noticed it yesterday during the legs-up triceps dips and it was almost distracting enough to make the exercise less painful. It's still a proto-muscle, but I love it.

Day Thirty: One Third Complete

I've been enjoying reading all the 90-day posts of Team SEXAAAY, and checking in on all the great pictures. You guys have such interesting thoughts to share about the whole experience. Thanks for being inspirations--for working hard, and messing up, and moving on, and telling us about all of it. I'm looking forward to your wrap-up posts.

Me? I've got no deep thoughts. Just a day at a time, staying on grams, struggling not so much through the workouts as through the aftermath. (I nearly cried on the steep downhill in heels this morning after the second day of double leg exercises.) But it's good to hit this milestone and to know that there's only twice as much left to go. I'm already seeing the beginning of the results I want in fat reduction, vegetable eating, and muscle growth; twice as much should be just about right. What about you, team? Feeling strong, or just plodding but determined, like me? We've made it this far--we can definitely stick it out.

P.S. Team name? You guys want one/have any ideas?

Day Twenty-Eight: Indulgence!

Another weekend without too much humidity, another hike on the north side of Hong Kong island. Today I went out with the healthy friend and her charming kids. I was surprised at how well the 5-year-old held up on some of the rocky uphills and downhills, but we got all that out of the way at the beginning, and finished on flat paved paths around Tai Tam Dam. Here's a picture one of the kids took of us:


Afterward, I ate at her place: a large green salad with no dressing, some lemon pepper chicken, and some whole grain fiber-y crackers with a chickpea/celery/dill spread. I wasn't able to weigh anything, but I'm pretty sure I was actually under gram allowance on all of it. There's no way I managed more than 50g of the crackers.

But that played into the plan to indulge tonight. I know I've admitted to craving convenience, but I also didn't trust any given restaurant meal to be perfect and exactly what I wanted, so we indulged at home. Like Nathaly, Ramiro, and Tara, we got married around labor day weekend and Monday will be our 8th anniversary. So we cooked a special dinner together.

Do you see the way the ice frosts the side of the shaker?

First, Luke made Tanqueray martinis. I savored half of mine, plus all three salty, deliciously alcoholic olives. Then, we made chicken breasts seasoned with thyme, lemon zest, a handful of just-grated parmesan, and covered with a thin layer of prosciutto. Also a little salt and pepper. When you pan fry the chicken, prosciutto side down, it crisps up like luxury bacon.

Then I had the rest of my carb grams from lunch (wild rice mixed with butter and salt), and some roasted broccoli that was 100% PCP-compliant. It was a truly indulgent meal:

Portion sizes not out of control, and that was definitely enough meat.

I have to say, everything was as delicious and enjoyable as I expected. Pig and salt: everything I remembered them to be. It just took less to make me satisfied (and that was about twice the veg and half the carbs that I would have had pre-PCP). I'm calling this a very successful indulgence. When's the next one?

Day Twenty-Six: Procrastination is Rarely a Good Idea

Yesterday's extra hour of sleep was much needed and appreciated. And I believe that I would have done a poor job of my first attempt at floor jumps if I hadn't taken that rest and waited until the end of the work day. But.

I will never postpone a workout to the evening again, unless I am too tired to even stand straight. Trying to do today's exercises a mere 12 hours after yesterday's was no joke. The jump romping took twice as long as usual due to the kind of tripping I haven't seen since the first week. The exercises did burn, but I felt like my form wasn't good enough on some of them. From now on, mornings only.

(pinky swear)

Food-wise, another label-reading fail. I had bought frozen paratha as a bread substitute, since the bread in the stores tasted so salty. And, burned by the tuna-in-brine experience, I'd checked the sodium grams carefully. What I apparently didn't check? Fat grams. Had two for lunch today, with my version of tuna salad, and my friend says, "Aren't those full of fat?"

Tonight, I checked, and they are indeed not a low-fat treat. Oh well, another delicious and convenient food off the list.

Day Twenty-Five: Getting a Little Run Down

The email this morning said that we might be getting a little run down, and I definitely am. Three nights with not enough sleep added up to today being the first time I didn't manage the workout in the morning and had to throw down in the evening instead. I forgot my fruit last night, too. The new exercises are tough but fun, although there's something not right about the v-sits yet.

One interesting thing--I was feeling whiny and in need of hot chocolate in bed at the end of the work day, but the workout, while not releasing a million happy endorphins, did head that off. Now I just want my protein and veg and fruit and a good night's sleep.

Run down on the blogging, too. I do have a great indulgence planned, but will tell you about it--with pictures--this weekend.

Day Twenty-Two: Out Hiking

This is the first time since the beginning of the project that I've been out hiking. Hong Kong has tons of well-maintained trails, and we headed for one that goes along the contour of a bay for 7.5 k, keeping mostly flat in deference to the strain my legs usually feel heading uphill after a workout. I also knew that the end would have a flight of 700 stairs to get back up to the road and was curious to see how my 25% PCPed body would handle them (hard to believe that we're already a quarter done).

In the past: Chunks of 50 stairs at a time, followed by panting, eventually giving way to chunks of only 25 stairs. Almost everyone waiting a good 5 minutes for me at the top.

Looking back at Tai Tam Reservoir

Today: An initial chunk of more than 200 stairs, followed by chunks of not less than 100. My sweating, panting, and incredibly high heart rate and red face were the same as ever, but it took longer for true discomfort to develop. Everyone waited only 2 minutes for me at the top. Since all the wildest and most fun trails here are serious uphills, sometimes just several kilometers of stairs going straight up, this is a good sign.

Of course, the walk ended in watching everyone else eat again--an exercise that, at the third time in two days, has lost all charm. This time it was Thai/Chinese fusion, and I hadn't eaten at the restaurant before, my carefully pre-prepared food was nothing in comparison to the wonderful smells, and it made me feel like an anorexic fetishizing control for the sake of control.

Just for fun, a photo of one of the two pigs my table consumed last night.

Day Twenty-One: Negotiating Tricky Social Situations

I find that the hardest thing about going out to restaurants and bars with people isn't resisting the food, but resisting the social pressure. It doesn't matter how non-confrontational I am about not eating or drinking--if it's noticeable, it becomes a subject of conversation, and me abstaining has two implications. First, it implies that I'm not really a member of the group--not really sharing the activity, or accepting hospitality. And second, it can't help but seem holier-than-thou: see, I'm so controlled and you're eating stuff that's bad for you. I don't judge, because if I wasn't doing this I'd be indulging, too, but it still feels like a value judgment to the folks I'm with.

So on Thursday night, there was a goodbye party at a bar for a coworker who's moving away. I could only stay for 45 minutes anyway, and I thought it'd be pretty easy to drink water and circulate unnoticed. But it turned out that we were sitting around a table with appetizers and bread, in an almost empty restaurant. I talked to my neighbors about PCP, and they were as nice as everyone promised people would be, but it was still just awkward to not share food and drink. And I could see them hesitating with their food.


Tonight, I went stealth. Twelve of us headed to a restaurant I know well and enjoy that specializes in roasted suckling pig--the skin is cut up separately and is like pork rinds crossed with potato chips, only better. They also do really good ribs marinated in a sticky soursweet vinegar and all kinds of other delicious things.

My husband sat next to me, and with all the general noise and confusion of the table, and all of the food community style on a big rotating disk in the middle of the table, I was able to just put little bits of food on my plate and switch with him a few times, so folks saw me grabbing food and saw residue on my plate later. My other immediate neighbor knew what was going on, but no one else noticed a thing.

Here's the really weird part--I enjoyed the meal. I knew what everything tasted like, was able to watch people try it for the first time, had lively conversations with different groups, and didn't even miss the actual eating part. At the end, the waiters brought over half a watermelon and I took two slices, just to make sure my stomach didn't feel too unhappy.

It was fun to pull that off. A good half of the group were people I've barely exchanged two words with, and it was much more interesting talking about their experiences than the diet I think about all the time these days anyway. In a smaller group, I wouldn't try to hide it, but I'm pleased that I was really able to enjoy this as a social situation, free of internal and external pressure to conform.

There's a little bit of rationalization going on--I know I'm supposed to be all open. But three other people at the table knew details about PCP, and I'd mentioned it to a fourth, so I'm no longer keeping it totally on the downlow. I'll try to work especially on my internal triggers so as to feel completely comfortable in situations like this in the future. But I'm counting this one as a success: I felt good, my companions felt good, it's all made of win.

Day Twenty: Craving for Convenience

I'm a little weirded out by my lack of cravings so far. I miss salt, butter, oil, cheese, etc, but so far it hasn't been a compulsion to resist, just the simple thought that my food would taste better with ____.

On the other hand, I'm a total addict of convenience. None of you need me to tell you what a pain in the ass it is to make every meal, every day. The nights I lay around, imagining something delivered or made by a friend, the deep craving is for me to show up and just have the right food already ready already. Just typing that sentence made me nostalgic.

I might be in luck. A new-ish friend just came back from vacation. Right before she left, she had us over to dinner with her family and I want to reciprocate, but there just isn't that much I've made so far that I'd want to share--and she's got four kids, who aren't picky but are still kids. So I told her about the project and she responded with this awesome full week of meal plans she'd put together for her husband a little while ago--including snacks and lots of whole grains and egg whites. It was gorgeous. It included salt and oil, but in quite small amounts, and some of the meals had beans or pork tenderloin instead of fish for protein, but I wouldn't feel like I was cheating eating any of them. I'll still need to cook the whole family a bang-up dinner or three at some point, but perhaps, in the meantime, I can go over to her house and eat something delicious, PCP-friendly, and COOKED BY SOMEONE ELSE just once before then?

In other subjects, Patrick had asked about changes we'd noticed at the end of this third week. I've definitely lost lots of fat in the middle of my body. When I was on vacation in July, my old jeans died--developed unstoppable holes in inappropriate places. So I headed to the Gap for replacements, and they didn't have my size available in a short enough length. Needing something immediate, I settled for the next size down despite the giant muffin top. Those jeans now fit well. I have extra room in the legs and seat and no trouble sitting in them for hours. Whoo!

Finally, the workouts. The pace is the best thing about them. I start, and then basically don't stop for more than a few seconds until the whole thing is over. And then it's done for the day, to vast relief. These last couple of days, I've been trying to be more present--really paying attention to my muscles working instead of letting my mind drift while my mouth counts. Makes the burn stronger! Showering within half an hour of some of the shoulder exercises has become a little difficult since my arms don't want to reach up high enough to shampoo. And then walking down the steep hill punctuated by stairs that takes me to work can be a little tricky, too. A couple of times, I've had to slow down and be really careful--wouldn't want to end the program early with a broken ankle.

Okay, that's probably enough. Apparently I had a lot to share tonight.

Day Seventeen: Successes, Failures

Well, remember the garlic-spinach-tomato sauce from last week? This week, the plan was to make a hee-ooge batch of it, since it was so tasty. And, to make things much easier, I decided to use frozen spinach. Terrible idea, people. The bag of frozen spinach, when defrosted, reverted to what looked like lawn clippings with no visible leaf structure, just a large, dense mass. But I cooked it in garlic anyway, and proceeded to pour over a few cans of tomatoes. The red was instantly absorbed into the lurking greeney black mass. I added a few more. Again, it disappeared.

The upshot is a truly unsightly mush. It's edible--barely--but not lively and actively tasty the way the fresh-spinach batch was. I worked my way through a portion at lunch today. An hour later, this email came from my husband:

Choking down a bowl of orzo and, it appears, the muck what dripped off the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Hardcore.

Does it look like said muck? You decide:

(Is it possible new life is being created in the primordial ooze?)

I think I'm going to divide the remaining amount into fourths and try to absorb each one into something else. An omelet, perhaps. Maybe mix with yogurt for a dip? Ideas welcomed, since I don't see us eating any more of it straight.

It's not all sad meals here, though. As a corrective for the terrible image above, here's tonight's dinner cooking on the stove.

(chicken with garlic and balsamic; onions and peppers caramelizing,
whole grain rice in the pot in back.)

But enough of the food challenges. I have another question--is anyone else having unusual trouble sleeping? I've been waking up in the middle of the night multiple times. And that is not normal for me. It's making a mockery of all attempts to get a full 8 hours, and subsuming the second half of my days in tired crankiness.