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.

Day Fifteen: Just Plain Tired

I generally wake up at 6 or 7, no matter what the day of the week. Mornings are the best time--the early light, the feeling of possibility, no one else making demands on my time yet. But I was so exhausted today that I turned over and stayed in bed till 9:30. That meant a cascade of lateness through the day, culminating in me, right now at 9 pm, in the midst of cooking dinner.

I'm still tired.

Day Fourteen: It Might Be Idiocy, But It's My Own

Thank you guys for all the thoughtful comments from the other day. I think I have that center-of-the-universe fallacy, where I believe that everyone thinks about me as much as I do myself. Not bloody likely. But what matters to me most right this second, just for a few more days, is that feeling watched makes me less motivated, whether or not that feeling is a fallacy. I want to hide so that people will start watching someone else instead. And, while I admire Naoko's style and deeply wish it was effective for me, I have a perverse reaction to the expectations of my acquaintances.

In case that wasn't contradictory enough, I do like the accountability of this small, self-selected community. In truth, I'm much better at keeping commitments to other people than ones solely to myself. So I'm doing this for me, and only a group of people I love and/or trust is watching, plus feeling like I've made a promise to Nathaly and Ramiro and Stu to keep showing up adds an extra dimension.

It's a mess, I admit. Perhaps as I get more comfortable with the way my body looks and feels, I'll also be able emotionally believe that a. most people aren't looking at me anyway and b. even if they are, I feel okay about it. I guess the first step is posting pictures to that damned Flickr feed. Tomorrow, I'll do Day One and Day Fourteen pics.

P.S. Sarah, please email me at peakconditionkim at gmail and we can talk HK! I was going to take a guess at your email address, but started to worry that there had been previous Sarahs...

P.P.S. Grace, I know what you mean about well-intentioned, and that totally helps. When one of the cleaning ladies asked me in the elevator one day if I was pregnant, she was so happy at the idea. It was sweet, but demoralizing.

Day Thirteen: Too Tired to Blog

Hi guys,

I really want to read everyone's new posts and respond to the much-appreciated comments from yesterday's post, but after a full day of work and a full evening of socializing, I'm way too tired, so it's a bare status update and I'll be thoughtful in the morning.

Tonight's meal: I thought it was going to be a disaster since I left it far too late, but I ended up going with sliced deli turkey (salty, but better than skipping protein, right? right?), the last of the leftover whole wheat pasta, and frozen corn (warmed up, of course) with mint and pepper. About that last, if you've never tried corn with a few fresh mint leaves torn over it, I highly recommend it. It's even better with some feta added in, but mint alone is pretty delicious.

Not consumed tonight: beer, the other beer someone tried to put in my hand, the soft drink that would have made people stop pressuring me, chips, pizza, white wine.

Day Twelve: Being Secretive

I have a confession to make: I've been not really talking much about PCP among other people. My husband, my parents, some close friends who live far away, my two immediate office mates, and my language teacher. Eight people, none of them have the address of this blog.

Patrick preaches the gospel of openness and accountability, but I hate the feeling of being visually weighed by people I'm not close to. Especially here in Hong Kong. The Chinese are not shy about commenting on others' weight, and I just don't think I'm up to it in the early days, before progress is particularly visible.

So far it's been easy to wriggle out of social invitations or wrench them into something I can do. I know there's no way to maintain any kind of social life and keep up the secrecy, so I guess I'll be coming out soon. Is it wrong that I'm hoping another week or two will pass first?

Day Eleven: Making It Work

Another low-energy night, but another meal achieved. Tonight--more fish, more tomato, more lemon juice, more pasta, and more spinach with garlic, just in a different combination. It might not be creative, but--hey--so far I've hit the correct amounts of everything for every meal, and that feels like a major achievement. It's only four days in, but that's 12 meals and 12 snacks. Put that way, it's almost a miracle of will and consistency.

(Gold star for me!)

Also, I'm not sore. My muscles are just tired, and I can feel their fatigue when laboring my uphill way home at night (8 minutes straight up through jungle heat and humidity) or stretching. Is that okay?

P.S. My Chinese teacher, who may appear often in my stories, told me today that my face looks thinner. Hooray!

Day Ten: Where is the Energy?

Today I feel completely blah. Isn't there supposed to be lots of energy from all this healthy food? Should I blame it on accidental salt consumption (turns out that yesterday's tuna was almost certainly packed in brine--shopping and label-reading fail)? Whatever it is, I crashed right after lunch (not the salty tuna), and never really recovered.

There goes another yawn. Good night, y'all.

Day Nine: Dinner Was Made of Awesome

I'm a food writing addict. I have a large collection of cookbooks, and one of equal size of essays/histories. Cooking, though, is a sometime habit for me. I love to make big, elaborate meals for special occasions, or just as a pleasant way to pass a Saturday. But most of the time I'd rather read than cook.

(John Thorne, for example.)

This habit is finally coming in handy--since I'm forced to drop all the rich food I like to make, and all the variety of take-out ethnic food I like to buy, and instead rely on bits of ideas picked up from all over. Last night, we had salmon with a mustard and lemon juice glaze, with whole wheat pasta and a forgettable veg. It was delicious hot for dinner, but nothing special today at lunch. In fact, with the slimy squash veg, it was kinda gross.

(Thomas Keller would have sneered.)

Tonight's meal was a keeper, though, and should be great leftover. Sauce of garlic, lots of fresh spinach (chopped roughly and wilted with the garlic; I also rub the pan with an olive-oil moistened towel first to prevent sticking), two small cans of chopped tomatoes, and some pepper. Then add water-canned tuna, and toss with whole wheat pasta. Some olive oil would have gone a long way to add richness and smooth out the texture, but it was hearty and very edible.

(If you've never read "I Was Really Very Hungry," get your hands on a copy soonest.
Her translation of The Physiology of Taste is also brilliant and great fun, including the footnotes.)

I say it was made of awesome no so much because it was the best thing I've ever eaten or very original, but because it was the first successful whole meal I've managed (one out of six!). Not a random collection of elements, or something that was obviously missing several important ingredients.

Now, on to making breakfast more cohesive than it's been. I'm planning to re-read this article by Mark Bittman. I might not end up using any recipes from him, but I like the way he thinks.

P.S. Should this be an end-of-PCP goal? I've hiked most pieces of the trail before and found that 5 km straight up turned my legs into jelly, so that 1.5 km straight down was perilous. What if that was at the end of a 40 km endurance test?

Day Eight: I Can Tell We'll Be Spending A Lot Of Time In The Kitchen

Well, I managed to cook breakfast, and lunch, and have two snacks, and dinner is now in the works. Everyone mentioned the amount of food prep time, and it's no lie. My husband is a sweetheart and is sharing PCP meals with me--even refusing to add salt and olive oil or butter to dishes that would clearly be improved by them. I love that we're together in kitchen slavery, but it's also twice the chopping. Anyone get carpal tunnel yet?

The plan was to cook for the whole week today, but I'm not that sure of portion size yet. So I'll make enough at dinner for lunch the next day, and see where we are at the end of the week. Ideas and strategies humbly solicited from those with more experience. Tell us your best tricks!

Day Seven: So What's Next?

I busted out with a perfect set of 100 jumps in a row first thing this morning. Swung the rope, jumped, and just kept going. It was great. Of course the other sets were nowhere near perfect, but it felt fantastic to have even one. I find that I need to go kind of quickly. If I start slowing down, there's too much time between jumps to start worrying about the next one, and suddenly the cord is stuck between my toes again. (I jump barefoot.)

The best part about today? This was the last day of agonizing over half portions (lunch was probably a little too big; dinner was definitely a little too small). Bring on the prescriptive amounts! And the tougher workouts! I am ready.

Day Six: Habitual Thinking

So I got home, a little buzzed from half Friday beer (because half Friday food apparently makes one susceptible) and found myself thinking, "Better get to sleep soon--there will still be a workout in the morning." Of course, it was barely 8 at night, so this was not, strictly speaking, true. But it felt good to already be in the habit of working out every morning, just because that's what I do now.

Day Five: It's Worse When You're Hungry

I had an effing miserable day at work--some of it my own fault, some of it not. And I'm here to report, a day like that is worse if you're hungry.

Workout fine. I attempted music with the rope, and it was a bad call. Much smoother when I snapped it off. Half portions fine. Hunger present and annoying as fuck, but manageable. Haven't been headache-y the way I usually get when a meal is delayed too long.

Quick poll. If you could live in any of the following places for 2-3 years (furnished apartment provided), which would you pick?

Paris (furnishings not included)
Bratislava
Tallinn
Washington, DC (apartment not included)
Melbourne
Ho Chi Minh
Singapore
Bangkok
Tblisi

Day Four: One Perfect Set

I got very little for you today. This morning, felt too sleepy to get up and work out. But the barrier is so low--just stand up with the jump rope in my hands--so I did, and suddenly working out was somehow happening. The second set of jumps was perfect, and then the third, in reaction, was the worst one I've ever experienced--I tripped on jump #2.

Lessons in my normal diet keep happening. Today, I ate out for lunch and dinner (strict halves, don't worry), and really noticed how much I love citrus flavors. Also, how they keep slipping into my meals, combined with sugar, as a previously-unnoticed sweet treat. Does anyone else order lime soda the second they step into a Vietnamese restaurant? Lime juice, seltzer, sugar, and sometimes a handful of mint leaves. It's delicious. Tonight, I didn't stir too well and kept the straw high, so the sugar content was much reduced. And then I gave the sweet half to my husband and laughed at myself for feeling deprived.

Day Three: My Ears Are Still Ringing

I just saw Inception in a theater with really loud speakers and my eardrums are so whomped that it seems to be affecting my sense of balance and making it hard to type. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, but it's definitely affecting my ability to think. Anyone else seen it? Fun, but doesn't make a lot of sense.

Anyway, this is the day that the workout felt clumsy for the first time. I was quite stiff, tripped more than usual when jumping, and spent the day with a super sore right leg, from yesterday's squats most likely. But I'm pumped to show those muscles who's boss first thing tomorrow morning with more squats! Patrick says that along about week three, my body will get good at working out. Check this space on Day 28.

Day 2: What, Exactly, Is My Regular Diet?

I love these short intense workouts--they're leaving me with that pleasurable sore feeling, the one that means you're doing good work. The diet, on the other hand, is a problem.

For my entire adult life, I've been an irregular eater. Breakfast is standard, but lunch is a constant search for novelty (or comfort, depending on the day). Dinner, well, that's wildly variable. Sometimes it's a large meal out, sometimes leftovers from lunch, sometimes a bowl of cereal or an egg sandwich, and sometimes it gets entirely forgotten. What I'm saying is, I have no idea what my "regular" eating habits might be--I just haven't been paying that much attention.

This is making the early days of eating half my regular amounts very fraught. Would I regularly have a snack on a Sunday afternoon? Well, if I was hungry. But this time I think I'm hungry because of the half portions, which means that it's probably not allowable to have a snack. Or, is it cheating that two days in a row I've chosen half a meal from the larger end of my usual scale? And what if I'm craving noodle soup with fishballs, but know that half a bowl of that will leave me headache-y and starving by 4:30? Is it okay to avoid it in favor of something more filling?

Trying to keep up with the thought-circles is making me feel a little like a gerbil on a wheel.

The day is capped off by this:


A really nice coworker brought me back two bite-sized duck gizzards from Li Feng in Shanghai. It's a favorite of his. I'm pretty sure I'd normally try it. So if I have one, is that half?