Life with the Whole30

I hate to write too extensively on the same topic, especially a topic as uninteresting as my food choices, but in this post-school/pre-career place, I have exactly two modes:

1) “Holy cow, what if I’m never a productive member of society and every breath I draw is a waste” panic mode

and

2) “I am ravenous and convinced that my ribs are starting to show”  panic mode.

Licensure paperwork and starvation. Nobody told me how exciting post-grad life can be.

I’ve been asked a lot of questions about Whole30, starting with what it is exactly, and I haven’t really come up with a satisfactory answer beyond “It’s sort of a cleanse/diet thing, except not really at all.” So if you’d like to read more about it, feel free to check out their website.

The second question I get is “What do you EAT?”

Let’s see. . .we didn’t plan as well as we probably should have, so during week one my roommate and I mainly feasted on suffering and tears with a side of remorse.

Week two was all about cleaning out the fridge; as far as I could tell, Callie (who actually has a discerning palate) ate nothing and may be on the brink of death.

I on the other hand (who function as a kind of human bottom-feeder and will eat anything I’m told is digestible and even some things I’m explicitly told are not) ate plenty, but mercifully can’t really remember what. I will say that I was feeling so skinny I was actually starting to get concerned a few days ago. Then I realized I had forgotten to drink water since starting Whole30; 8 gallons of water later, I could have rented myself out as a back-up Goodyear blimp. Callie is under strict instructions to slap me across the face if I ever whine about being too skinny again. As if. #firstworldproblems

But this week. . .oh boy, I have big plans for this week, plans full of hope and world domination and feeling full for the first time in two weeks.

So, in case this might convince you to take the first steps toward changing the rest of your life for the better, I’m including this week’s menu for your snooping pleasure. (Forgive the awkward layout. WordPress is giving me a heck of a time with table inserting.)

Sun. Mon. Tues. Wed. Thurs. Fri. Sat.
Br. Eggs Eggs Eggs Eggs Eggs Eggs Eggs
Lu. Tomato Soup Thai Chicken with Cauliflower Rice Strata l/o Pesto Chicken l/o Thai Chicken l/o(plan road trip menu) l/o(shop for roadtrip) Begone!
Di. Eggplant Strata Herb Pesto Chicken Thai Chicken l/s Strata and Soup l/o Herb Chicken l/o Paprika Chicken with Zucchini Noodles
Other Key Lime Pie Larabars 3 weeks!!!! Popsicle Celebration!!!

Wow. See how delicious? Even looking at this menu makes me all happy and giddy and Goodyear Blimpy inside.

Except for the breakfast. 2 weeks into this, dozens of eggs down, and I still gag every time I try to eat them. Ironically, my preferred method of ingestion is now to mix raw eggs into green smoothies. It’s the only way I can get them down without choking, since I’m able to avoid dealing with the texture, taste, and smell of those suckers. The ability to eat them hard-boiled, which is my ultimate goal, is a long way off; if I need more sulfur in my diet, I’d rather lick a volcano.

As far as changes go:  we’ve each started to adjust to a new feeling of fullness, one that is satisfied but not heavy, if that makes sense. That’s been nice. The cravings have gone done a little bit, though I can’t wait for the day when I can eat some raw honey and yogurt. And dark chocolate. I’m becoming better, though not faster, at meal planning and deal-finding, which is kind of a fun little skill. Youtube and I also successfully butchered a whole chicken the other night, which was one of the prouder moments of my life.

The weirdest thing I’ve noticed is that both Callie and I have been getting tearful a lot more easily than we ever have before, even over the type of heart-warming things we would have deemed cheesy in the past. Our hypotheses as to why include:

First, we’re buying higher quality meat and therefore ingesting fewer artificial hormones.

Second, the Whole30’s healing powers extend beyond our bodies straight to our ice cold hearts.

Third, and most likely, we can’t eat anything. You would cry too.

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