Hop hop hoppity PLOP

Kangaroos hopping (well, struggling, really) through the snow are awesome. And kind of surreal.

I did a ridiculous amount of cross-country skiing (a.k.a. cross-country face-planting) today. With a fresh dump of powder and perfect weather, it was the best day I've had in ages.

Photos later. Including my spectacular arse-bruise.

Tips for the yoga n00b

or: I went to yoga four days in a row and now I think I might die.

Yoga: yes or no? Do we like it? I think I like it. I was sucked in by a special deal from a new yoga studio where you pay $20 and can attend as many classes as you like for the next 20 days. Because I am a cheapskate and like to get value for money, I was going to attend ALL OF THEM, WOO-HOO! Then it turned out there are something like 15 classes a day, so I lowered my expectations. But probably not lowly enough.

And now I have questions for any experienced yogis among you:

Am I meant to feel like this? By "this", I mean: after each class I feel like I'm going to throw up. I get a pounding headache, which sometimes starts during the class. And I am incapable of doing anything else all evening except lying on the couch shaking. I have tried drinking more water, drinking less water, eating beforehand, not eating beforehand, pushing myself in class, taking it easy in class: it all makes no difference. Is it just an adjustment period? Is it the heat? (The room is set to 32 C (90 F)). And if anyone starts in with "elimination of toxins" I want peer-reviewed citations from medical journals.

Why is downward-facing dog so hard? The teacher keeps saying it is a relaxing posture. I disagree. It is an arm-trembling, shoulder-cramping, blood-rushing-to-the-head posture. Am I doing it wrong? Are there ways to make it easier? And as for raising a leg, ha ha ha, don't even think about it.

Holding my arms in the air for minutes on end, no matter what the posture is. It ****ing hurts. Let's just not, okay?

I'm pretty sure none of these can be a strength issue, because I'm pretty strong. I have almost no flexibility and (clearly) no stamina, though, so I guess that's the problem.

How long until it gets easier?

More than a little bit scary

Very petite and extremely pretty chick in pastel pink workout gear at the gym today. Muttering between reps, in the general direction of her boyfriend: "I will crush you. CRUSH.. you. I can crush you with a FINGER. CRUSH you."

Holy crap!

While I had the flu the last 10 days, I appear to have lost 3 kg (6.6 pounds, for those of you who get confused easily). Most of which, judging by my performance at the gym yesterday and today, was probably muscle.

I think it's time to get serious about tuna fish.


Bonus food-related conversation:

Me: "At least I've found my appetite again. I'm hungry!"

Geekman: "Hungry like you want an early dinner, or like you want to eat something now? I'm making toast, if you want some."

Me: "Thanks, but I might just have an apple."

Geekman: "That's not food! Apples are no good for anything except biblical symbolism."

I'm sweet enough already

People in the comments to the last post asked a few questions about my sugarfreeness, and I thought I'd answer them in a post instead of writing the world's longest comment.

Profgrrrl asked:

How does it feel to be sugar free after a month? Aside from the shock of eating it again, I mean.

(And Ianqui and Jana had similar questions.)

The main benefit I have noticed is that healthy food like fruit and vegetables, grains, etc, all taste so much better than I have ever remembered them tasting. I think sugary food was dulling my tastebuds. Right now I seriously cannot think of any yummier foods than brown rice, broccoli, grated carrots (not all together) and as a sweet snack, a mango or some papaya.

Over the last few weeks I've hardly ever felt the desire to snack on junkfood, or even to snack much at all. Back in my sugar-frenzied days :) I used to bounce from one snack to the next, always thinking about what I would eat next. Lately, I eat a small breakfast, have an apple around 11 o'clock, a sandwich for lunch, a substantial snack (another sandwich, a kebab, noodles, tuna on crackers, or similar) around 3:30 or so, and then dinner in the early evening. I often don't feel like eating after dinner, and I hardly ever think about food in between each of these. (I'm not denying myself food apart from sugar, though, so if I do feel like eating an entire bowl of nachos with three types of cheese, I go for it. It just doesn't happen very often).

I think I have finally de-coupled the psychological associations of food with certain events, too. It used to be that I always bought a chocolate bar when I went shopping, I always bought sweets at the movies, I pigged out on chocolate biscuits every week at our Monday department afternoon teas, and I always ate some chocolate or biscuits when watching TV in the evening. The hardest times during the early parts of last month were these, but now, I can do all of these things without thinking about snacking, so I'll only eat something if I'm actually hungry.

I think maybe sometimes I forget to eat when I am hungry too, which could be a problem. When I first stopped eating sugar in December, I lost three kilos in the first two weeks, then with my relapse in New Zealand, I put it all back on again (which was fine, because I'm not overweight, and this wasn't a weight-loss thing). Now I'm once more three kilos below my former weight, and I don't want to lose much more. I might have to start eating bigger meals.

Finally, I think my energy levels are a lot stabler when I'm not eating sugar. I used to always get very sleepy in the early afternoon, perk up mid-afternoon (which was when I usually ate some cake or chocolate) and get sleepy again around 4:30. I haven't noticed this happening at all in the last few weeks.

Rageyone asked:

Why did you decide to celebrate now? Are you reintroducing sugar back into your diet?

I was only ever planning to trial this for a month and see what effects it had. But seeing as they were all positive, and seeing that I really didn't enjoy that dessert last night (and still feel crappy for it), I might just stay sugar-free-ish. I'm not going to refuse dessert at other people's houses or pass up free chocolate, but I think I might continue not to eat sugar as a regular part of my day, and keep avoiding the high-sugar versions of things like yoghurts, muesli bars and cereals.

Ianqui asked:

Are you planning on splurging once a month or whatever, but generally staying away from sugar?

That's not a bad idea. Right now, the thought of anything sugary makes me feel like throwing up, and I can't imagine wanting to splurge again even in a month, but in the unlikely situation that I start to think an ice cream sundae or piece of cheesecake is a good idea, I could make it a once a fortnight/once a month-type deal.

But really? I wasn't joking when I said I thought I had poisoned myself last night. I had hot flushes, jitteriness, couldn't concentrate on anything, and my stomach did back-flips all night long. Worst of all, the whole sundae/brownies deal tasted terrible (and I know it wasn't that I screwed up the brownie recipe, because Geekman loved them.)

I think I'll have no trouble staying off sugar for at least another month after this.

I think I poisoned myself

I just celebrated the achievement of going one whole month* without sugar.

My celebration consisted of double chocolate brownies with vanilla ice cream, caramel sauce, nuts and sprinkles.



I think I'm going to die.

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* Technically I've been on this sugar-free thing since December 27th, but I had a bit of a relapse in New Zealand in mid January (courtesy of the Cozy Cake Shop and its $1.50 cakes), and again the first week of February when they were giving away free chocolate at Orientation Week. So today marked the first time I've kept at it for an entire month. (Good thing February's short, huh?)

Giving up sugar: two weeks on

In case anyone is interested, I thought I'd post about the effects I have noticed so far, two weeks after I gave up sugar.

Background:

In an attempt to stop eating 98 metric shitloads of sugar and sugar-infested cake and biscuits every day, I decided to give it up entirely for one month, and then gradually bring it back in small quantities. The rules are that I don't eat anything that exists primarily for the purpose of oozing happy gooey sweetness at me (e.g. desserts, chocolate, jams, cake, sticky drinks, honey), nor anything that according to the ingredients list is more than 7 or 8 % sugar. I'm not doing anything crazy like cutting out fruit or alcohol, though.

I have stuck to these rules almost 100%, with one relapse on New Year's Eve (when I was tempted beyond my limits with chocolate-dipped strawberries and marzipan).

What I've noticed:

1. The first few days were easy. Probably because I started the day after the sugary sinfest that is Christmas. At that point I never wanted to see a dessert again, which might have had something to do with the origins of this experiment. About four days in I had a few cravings, but since then it hasn't really been a problem. It's been WAY easier to go cold-turkey on sugar like this than it ever has been when I've just tried to cut down on it a little in the past.
2. I am hungry all the freaking time. Not hungry as in "I could do with a chocolate biscuit right now," or "Mmm.... doughnuts", but "My stomach is eating itself from the inside, I'm so hungry. Can I have a four course meal now, please?"
3. I am eating all the freaking time. Presumably a consequence of the previous point. But it turns out that my personal "what I like to eat" list goes something like this: Sugar, fruit, vegetables, grains, fish, dairy products, chicken, savoury junk food. So take the sugar away, and suddenly I am eating a healthy, balanced diet full of fruit and veges without even trying. This means I've been snacking mostly on fruit, pieces of pumpernickel bread with herring, tuna on crackers, and yoghurt. And eating gigantic meals full of vegetables at least four times a day. All of this tastes much better (and the fruit much sweeter) than it usually does. This might just be because I am hungry, or it might be that I'm no longer tasting things through a filter of comparison with the chocolate bar or slice of cheesecake I just ate.
   
4. And I am losing weight. This is actually a little disturbing, since it wasn't my intention, and I don't need to lose any (although for the time being it won't hurt, either). But I've lost at least two kilos* in the last two weeks, which made me suspect that despite eating 98 million times a day, I might not be eating enough (which would explain why I'm always hungry). So for the last few days I wrote down everything I ate and worked out the calories. It turns out I'm only eating around 7000 kilojoules (approx. 1700 calories).
5. Have resolved to eat more cheese.
6. I've spent the whole two weeks feeling mentally foggy, tired and irritable. To be fair, though, this could equally well be due to all the drinking I did over Christmas/New Year, the fact that I'm not eating enough in general, or it could be an attempt by my brain to get out of dissertation writing ("I'm not smart enough! Don't make me do this! Let's go back to bed, okay?")
7. I'm getting educated about (and horrified by) the contents of the foods I usually buy at the supermarket. Even some of the yoghurts I (used to) buy are over 20% sugar! And as for muesli bars and breakfast cereals, I'm not sure I want to eat them again even after I stop this experiment, now that I've read the labels. Even bread, frozen meals, pre-made sauces and (weirdest of all) some types of potato-based crisps are way higher in sugar than I expected.

Anyway, my experience so far has been a lot less difficult than I expected, and has probably done me some good. I would certainly recommend the experiment to anyone who is looking to lose weight, since that seems to be happening without me even trying, and I am still eating what feels like mountains of food.

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* For the metrically challenged among you, this is around 4 1/2 pounds. Or 8.934 imperial wombles.

Sugar was making me smarter

I swear I have lost a whole bunch of IQ points in the last 24 hours. Along with:

• my keys. Last seen in the ladies' loos at university.* Hopefully they will still be there tomorrow.
• my handbag. Left behind at a cafe (where Geekman, who needs to learn something about solidarity, ate an enormous piece of chocolate and caramel mudcake right in front of me).** I am totally in love with the woman who sat at our table after us, handed the bag in to the manager, and wouldn't even let me buy her a coffee in gratitude.
• my ability to turn unintelligible notes to myself into a well-crafted dissertation chapter. (Actually, did I even have that to begin with?) I sat and stared at the thing for nearly two hours today, paralysed by the cognitive dissonance resulting from incompatibility between the chapter in my head and the one that my notes were telling me to write. (I overcame the problem temporarily by deleting from the outline two sections that would have taken me an hour each to write and counting it as an afternoon's work.)

____________

* And oh my god, speaking of the loos, would it have killed the university to still have the cleaners come in even though we are officially closed until New Year? The admin people can't seriously imagine that no one is using this 'break' to catch up on research. And someone in our department (not me!) has serious intestinal distress.

** In case anyone is wondering about the sugar, (not that anyone is, because judging by my stats for the last few days you all—except, apparently, for Arbitrista—have way better things to do over Christmas than read blogs), I haven't turned into a health-conscious nutter or anything. I just decided that it was seriously abnormal that I couldn't go an entire day without gorging on biscuits, cakes or if nothing else was available, teaspoons of sugar straight from the packet. I'm hoping that whether the source of my cravings are psychological or physical, going cold turkey(ish) on the sugar for a couple of weeks might show them who's boss. After which we will return to our regularly scheduled desserts. (Plus, Geekman bet me that I couldn't hack it.)

What doesn't kill you might be Styley: an update

Remember this? Well it took me two weeks, but in the end I got up my courage to go climbing again. The person I tried to kill last time had said that she would still be okay to climb with me again, but I thought I'd wait and see if she contacted me rather than calling her to suggest it, because I wanted to leave her the option to not get in touch if she had just been being polite.

So she didn't call me, which was hardly unexpected, but I decided I would go to the Thursday evening women's climbing night again anyway and kind of lurk in the corner. And if someone offered to partner me and they were okay with the fact that I screwed up last time, I would climb; otherwise I would go home again.

All day Thursday I felt jittery and nervous and wasn't able to concentrate on work. I didn't really connect it with the climbing plans at first, until I caught myself considering not going after all, and instantly felt better. So because I am a masochist I decided I had to at least give it one more try. I almost changed my mind again twice more (including once at the entrance to the gym), but I made it in the end.

I also spent the afternoon reading up on the internet about possible mistakes people make when belaying and how to avoid them. I still wasn't entirely sure what I had done wrong last time, but I picked up a couple of suggestions for making my technique even safer, so that helped a bit.

When I got to the gym, there were only three other people there. My climbing partner from the other week wasn't, which didn't surprise me. One of the other three didn't have anyone with her, and she came up to me and asked if I had a partner coming.
"Um, maybe," I said. "I kind of had a vague arrangement to climb with Sarah, but I didn't check if she was coming tonight. And she might not want to climb with me anymore anyway, because last time we were here---"
"Oh my god! That was you?! Duuude."
"You heard about that, huh?"
"EVERYONE heard about that."

So that of course made me instantly feel so much better (insert ironic tone of voice here).

But weirdly it turned out that this new person was even keener to partner me after that. Maybe it's the same sort of weirdness that causes total strangers to propose marriage to serial killers in jail. Or perhaps she was an adrenaline junkie and keen on the extra risk. Whatever the reason, though, I had a climbing partner.

Later in the evening Sarah did turn up and the three of us took turns climbing and belaying. Although Sarah was friendly, I noticed she was careful to make sure it was the other woman belaying for her rather than me, but that was cool. Then yet another person turned up without a partner, and she paired off with Sarah while I stayed with my new-found adrenaline junkie friend.

The result of the evening was that I feel much more confident about climbing again, and I have people to climb with in future who don't seem to care that I might be a danger to their lives :)

They even all organised us to go together to a different gym on Sunday where there are lots more beginners' walls and supervision and so on, so that I and the other new person can spend the day getting really comfortable with belaying and climbing. Everyone (except maybe Sarah) seems to have turned this into a story about our gym not being good with training and supervising beginning climbers and about our gear not being as safe as people make it out to be, which might not really be the truth of the situation, but it's a polite fiction that allows me to climb with them without feeling all freaky.

Hooray for nice people who don't hate me! Hooray for me not killing or maiming anyone! And hooray for being able to think about climbing again without having to go and sit with a blanket over my head until I've calmed down.

What doesn't kill you might be Styley

In other news, I nearly killed someone today.

I don't want to talk about the details, because every time I think about it I start crying again. Also, I don't entirely know how it happened: one minute everything was fine and the next she was nearly killed and it was all my fault. And it was definitely my fault, but I don't know what I did and so I can't not do it again, and now I'm feeling all teary again so I'm going to stop.

But I just wanted you to know that I am a bad person and that you don't ever want to be up a climbing wall with me on the end of your rope.

(She's okay, though: just kind of bruised and unhappy. But that's not the point, because she might have been dead.)

Foiled by fate

It must have been fate, right? Fate's fault that the hour I planned to spend going to the gym just got spent on... not going to the gym.

The problem is that I have hardly worked out at all the last three weeks, and I was starting to regret it. So I resolved to turn over a new leaf and on Saturday the leafiness began. New resolutions. New exercises. And it happened. I went on Saturday, went on Sunday, took Monday off, and was ready and keen to go today. I even planned my day around it in terms of when and what I ate and when I worked.

Come two o'clock I was so ready to gym. Called Geekman, but he needed an extra half hour or so. Would call me when he had finished "wrestling with his integral". So I frittered for half an hour, because there was no point working when he might call at any minute, right?

Finally he rang and I set off across campus, arrived at the gym, and changed. Except for...

My gym shoes. Left at home. They were it.

So I wore my ordinary shoes. Figured it wouldn't matter anyway, since I was only doing arm and chest exercises today.

I went inside and as usual, the bench presses were all occupied. I hovered patiently nearby while the guys using one of them simultaneously tried to finish their sets and stare at my chest, and finally I got my turn (to use the bench press, not to stare at anyone's tits).

Just as I'm loading up the weights, the gym manager comes up to me and tells me I have to leave. The gym isn't insured for people wearing "no shoes". I have shoes! I tell him, and wave my feet indignantly (one at a time so I don't fall over). But they are open-toed and therefore don't count.*

So I left. And got changed again. And cycled back across campus again. And now it is more than an hour since I first stopped working to go to the gym and I've lost the hour but haven't got the exercise benefits or nice endorphiny relaxing feeling to show for it. (Although my heart rate increased: does that count?)

And worse: I'm back to my skipping-two-days-in-a-row slacker routine.

And even more worser: I now have to go to the gym tomorrow.

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* This is such a load of something big and steaming. You can only see a teensy weensy bit of my toes! Really! And the shoes are flat and leather and just as protective of my feet having a giant weight dropped on them as any cloth running shoe you could wear. And Geekman wore jandals** to the gym EVERY DAY last summer and nobody even seemed to notice, let alone ask him to leave.

** "Thongs" to any Australians among you; "flip flops"(?) to Foreigners of other extraction.

Warning: geeky physics humour ahead

At the gym

Me: "I can tricep press as much as you can! Look!"

Geekman: "That's pretty impressive."

Me: "That's because I'm super strong. Superstrong. Like superstring. But stronger."*

Geekman: "I hate to disappoint you, but I think the tensile strength of a superstring is probably greater than that of your muscle fibres."

Me: "But my muscles are made up of superstrings, right?"

Geekman: "I guess that means you are more than the sum of your part... icles."


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* What can I say? Weight lifting sometimes melts my brain to the point where I can only communicate through random word association.