So any information that can be found about this diet says how it takes some getting used.  They mention the big “crash” around day 8, and they all mention the definite rewards for sticking it out.

Well, this nears the close of day 16 or 17ish for me.  During the first week and a half I definitely started to notice a decline in my energy level; both at the gym and in my professional life.  I loathed stairs by about day 11.  I definitely had a major crash at about day 7-8 which was a Sunday night into Monday.  I slept pretty much from about 1500 Sunday to Monday evening, getting up only to pee, eat a few bites, and throw on an episode of “Friends.”  It was bad.  I was definitely anticipating it so it was bearable and a part of me was glad to see that this diet was “working.”

I finally did my carb load at about 0100 on Friday morning (Thursday night).  I had uncontrollable cravings for sweets and ended up buying a 4-pack of iced honey buns, a 12-pack of cupcakes, a big box of macaroni & cheese, a bag of iced animal cookies, a package of Soft Batch chocolate cookies, and 2 boxes of White Castle hamburgers.  Along with some Fiber One ‘caramel delight’ cereal with soy milk and a trip to Cici’s pizza, this constituted my entire initial carb load after the induction phase.  I should also note that I didn’t go to the gym from Wednesday through Sunday.  I spent the four-day Thanksgiving weekend playing Borderlands on Xbox 360. 

I went to the gym for the first time in five days yesterday (Monday).  It was amazing.  Even though I am sticking to a set-weight routine, I found I was able to do more reps after that ‘oh God this is starting to burn’ feeling comes.  I worked out until I was sore and it made it difficult to sleep i was so sore.  This is a sign – to me at least – that I’ve had a good workout.  I mainly did upper body.  And today, I did legs and had an equally awesome workout.  Hopefully I’ll get better sleep though; perhaps some NSAIDs before I hit the hay?

I have just finished eating dinner; a dish consisting of fresh spinach cooked with coconut oil, sliced turkey, and spices and I gotta say.  This diet is working well.  I know my next pig-out carb load is just around the corner, but I don’t feel an intense craving.  I’m hardly even looking forward to it.  I’m loving veggies and meat.  I suppose one way I could improve this diet is to pay closer attention to exact calories, times, and fat/protein content. 

I will post a couple more blogs about this diet and then some pics if I am really impressed with my progress.  Until next time!

I have been doing this diet for about 5 days now.  I have approximately the same amount of energy as I normally do.  I haven’t been able to work out as vigorously as I normally would the last 2 days or so.  I can feel my energy stores draining.  I have not put on any visible weight; if anything I’ve trimmed down a hair or stayed exactly the same (which, coupled with weight lifting, can give the appearance of getting leaner). 

I’m not so crazy about the foods that are to be eaten with this.  I wake up each morning – at least yesterday and today – dreading how I’m gonna be able to consume enough food and at the right intervals to keep my metabolism burning all day.  And with all the protein and fat I need, I worry about getting enough fiber.  I manage this by eating a few bowls of broccoli, some celery, and using ground flax see here and there.  I’ve at least found a way to consume raw eggs in a way that doesn’t make me gag anymore; blend them up in my GNC blender bottle.  Also, if you add chocolate protein powder to the mix, it’s almost like drinking cake batter, so it’s tolerable.

I haven’t really enjoyed eating as long as I can remember.  It was fun when I was a llittle kid and it was just something I did at certain times everyday, but it began to become a chore once I had to start paying for food myself and especially once I started learning about nutrition.  Now it’s work.  It’s exhausting trying to eat a balanced healthy diet, and just as draining trying any different eating style.  I’m sure on some level many people feel this stress, whether consciously or not,  and it contributes to the mass eating disorder that is America.

So this diet can seem a bit extreme to the outside observer.  I casually mentioned yesterday (for shock effect) that I had consumed 36 slices of bacon (the Hormel precooked stuff) and my friends gasped.  When 4 slices equals 70 calories, it’s really not that shocking, but when you hear “36 slices of bacon…” 

So here’s my diet so far.  I will not go on about exact amounts, as I really haven’t been keeping too close of tabs on my consumption.  I’ve found, much to the detriment of those I try to help with my eating plans, that my intuition serves me well when it comes to food.

Turkey burger patties, raw eggs, Syntha-6 protein powder, 6-star protein powder, bacon, sausage, mayo, olive oil, coconut oil (Nutiva ROCKS!), broccoli, green beans, celery, walnuts, pine nuts, chicken breast filets, swiss cheese (full-fat).  There are other items I’m sure and I will ultimately create a final post with my conclusions and any other food items I can remember.  The main key, since I’m not in this to get big, is to keep the metabolic fire going all the time while consuming enough calories to support my athletic lifestyle.

Tags: anabolic diet

On a whim I decided to research some new ways of eating. 

As many people know, a while back I created “The Jason Diet” both to lose weight (~60 lbs for me) and to lead a new healthier life.  Since then I have been on and off the wagon.  Almost to the point where it csn be considered an eating disorder.  really I think most Americans have eating disorders, whether diagnosed or not, but I’ll digress.  My weight has fluctuated significantly; I get as low as 163 and as high as 195.  I still haven’t broken the 200 lb ceiling but I’ve come close. 

One of my suspicions is that as a result of geting older, my body is just filling out a bit.  But I want it o fill out the way I want it.  As such, I’ve been going to the gym quite a lot.  I’ve been gaining muscle, getting stronger, feeling better; but I still have excess fat. 

So here I am.  I happened to come across the anabolic diet.  I was skeptical at first, because I always associate “anabolic” with drug and steroid use, as opposed to a natural process in digestion and energy conversion.  And Once I realized that this diet basically teaches your body to use fat for energy as opposed to carbohydrates,  I was intrigued.  It made sense to me: we don’t burn fat because we limit how much we intake. 

The program that I am going to follow is thus: Induction phase, where I eat only fat, protein and high fiber veggies in order to convert my body from burning carbs to burning fat.  Next, during the mainenace phase, I will carb load for 1-2 days eating anything I want, then return to high fat/protein low carb.  It’s kinda like a modified Atkin’s geared more towards body builders and weight lifters as opposed to overweight persons.

This blog will journal my journey to and through the anabolic diet and my experiences with it.  I will strive to include links, pics, and other useful information regarding the process.  I think I will take a “before” pic today and in a few weeks take another one so I have some objective visual comparison.  Otherwise, the blog will focus on facts and feelings.  I am truly excited to go through this, and to stick it out for the whole induction phase and a few weeks of maintenance to really see what all the beef is about.  So come along with me for one more dietetic journey!

Tags: anabolic diet atkin's atkins protein carb carbs carbohydrate carbohydrates fat high-fat health

How come on toilet paper commercials they spray blue liquid on the toilet paper?

Who needs to think about absorbency in regards to toilet paper?  I can understand for feminine hygiene products, I am a nurse and as such know that blue liquid leaks from ladies when they’re doing yoga, ballet, at dinner parties, and while bike riding.

Also, in makeup commercials, in who’s mind is bringing out cheek bones on a female a sexy thing to do?

Does anyone actually know how to play tetherball? And what’s the deal with airline peanuts?

You ever find youself switching channels cause there aren’t enough commercials?

People love to pretend they know stuff about real estate even though they’re total nOObs.  The only term they know is “vaulted ceiling” and “hard-wood floors.”

No one knows the difference between landscaping and hardscaping and no one cares.

I bought a Livestrong jelly bracelet and the guy behind in the checkout line warned me that they’re made by in sweatshops in 3rd world countries by children who get paid pennies a week.  I bought 2.  Who am I to fuck with someone else’s economy out of a skewed sense of self-righteousness?  If I don’t buy it, maybe 8-year-old Oojimbo doesn’t feed his family tonight.

Does the act of masturbation end when you ejaculate or when you close the window and clear the search history?

I paid $250 for a crystal ball from a lady who told me that the spiritual energies would attract money.  It obviously worked for her.  Also I did get paid that folowing pay-day, so I can’t say she was wrong.

I bought a flat screen TV cause it takes up less space than my old tube TV.  But I liked the way it looked by itself so much that I cleared everything off the TV shelf anyway.

I’ve been playing a lot of video games lately.  When I’m walking, I’ll look around, marveling at the definition, and think, “Hey, this is just like a first-person shooter!”

I eat a lot of olive Oil.  I’ve never once been assaulted by Popeye.  I don’t see a ring on the finger.  Her name is not Olive Eye yet, now is it?

I’ve never been to a Popeye’s chicken.  But the way the sign looks, to me it says, “Pope Yes.”  That’s weird.  Even if the chicken is good, I can’t eat at a place called Pope Yes.  I can’t envision enjoying Catholic clergy sanctioned fried poultry.

I’ve been eating too much celery.  I think most people don’t eat enough.  I would like to meet the guy who eats exactly the right amount of celery.

I don’t wash my dishes.  I just put new food in them when I’m ready to eat.  Before you judge, tell me you wash your cat or dog’s bowl out between every meal.  Fuck off.

It pisses me off that my glass is always full, empty, or somewhere in between.  How about a little variety every now and again?  Life is too predictable sometimes.

I have far too much kleenex around my room but surprisingly, no porn.  My kleenex to porn ratio is very unbalanced for a single caucasian male in my age demographic.

I have travel packs of kleenex.  The flap says “soulever/lift.” Anytime I would grab one I would think of a little Marvin Gaye or Tower of Power, appreciating Kleenex’s appreciation of funk; that is until I learned that “soulever” is French for “lift.”  Now everytime I grab one I think of how big of a dumbass I was all those years.

No more Kleenex jokes I promise.

I don’t use soap.  Really.  I believe in the sanctity of life and germs are people too.  Plus my pheromones are the only thing left attractive about me.

The only thing I’ve ever thought long and hard about is sex.  Well, at least hard.  Well… It’s kinda like…  You ever had warm string cheese?

I don’t think something as benign as cheese should be allowed to be described as sharp.

I play music.  When it’s at work I sleep with its sister.  Hate the game, not the playa.

The whole point of that last one was to demonstrate the correct usage of the apostrophe concerning its and it’s. Eat shit.

I was gonna take the SATs but I just remembered I’m busy that day.

If you take a multi-vitamin, you take other stuff too, like calcium or vitamin C.  But if you don’t take a multi-vitamin, you don’t take anything else.  This phenomenon is where all research funding should be directed.

My computer is ghetto.  I have to literally hotwire it by touching a brown and black wire together.  This sucks, but on the bright side, if I apply to be black in my next life I can say I have previous experience.

My computer speakers have removable grills, I guess to accomodate particular tastes or decors; as if anybody that buys theses shitty-ass speakers has any taste or sense of decor.

I have a lot of DVDs.  Well, I don’t, but whoever breaks in and steals them from me will.

“Scissors” is much too complicated of a word for such a common item used by  far too many people with far too little spelling education from much too young of an age.  Also, fuck you if you’ve EVER pronounced it “Skizors.”

Okay, so I’m not entirely sure what’s going on here. I’ll use euphemisms so the indecorum of the usual terms sparkle like the bejeweled Nokia of a 14 year old Japanese girl.

So here’s the deal. Every time I SNICKERS, I’m sure BUTTERFINGER, you know, right at the begining.  But I sit there for so long – reading a book and shifting weight so as to not bring about peripheral nerve damage – that I end up BUTTERFINGERing AGAIN! And every time I ask myself, “Didn’t I just do that?” And every time I have the same answer: “I don’t know, weren’t you paying attention?” “NO, ME! I WAS READING!!!!!”

So do I need to bring a video camera in there just for my own peace of mind or what? Would that be weird?

I thought since I have so much going on in my head, covering every topic imaginable from politics to my bowel rhythm, I thought it would be appropriate for you to do a nursing assessment on me.  Don’t worry, it’s not hard; I’ll walk you through it.  Part one; general assessment.  Stay tuned for further installments, as my sloth permits.

As you walk into my room…

There I am, hunched over my broke-ass, ghetto, hot-wired laptop.  Next to me are 2 glasses full of water.  On my bed are countless wrappers from God knows where, dirty dishes, and trash.  The same song has been playing on the speakers for the last thiryt-five minutes and you became concerned, so you came to check on me.  The laundry still hasn’t been folded and put away, and there are DVD cases scattered about the floor.  What is that stain on the tile? It’s been there for some time now – you’d think housekeeping would have taken care of that by now.  A guitar is haphazzardly placed on the bed; you know I’ll have to find a better place for that if I hope to get any sleep.  The calendar still says “April.”  Also when was the last time he washed the clothes he’s wearing? Do I need to be concerned?

You ask how I am, and I begin with a big sigh, as if you have asked me to recall the entire recorded history of man.  After a short pause I respond with an ambiguous short answer; something like, “Okay, I guess.”  Two hours ago, you recall, I responded enthusiastically, but perhaps a bit too quickly, “FANTASTIC!”  ”So what’s changed,” you ask yourself.

As you attempt to make yourself comfortable, you find yourself unable to sit on anything or lean on anything.  All surface areas have been utilized and stacked high, so that when you touch one thing, many other things fall.  You decide it’s best to stand.  You are a bit amazed at the selection of books at eye level as you walk in.  ”No wonder he’s so fucked in the head,” you think to yourself; but you’d never let the patient – me – know you feel that way.  But I know.  And you know I know.  And I know you know I know.  And you know I know you know I know, so we just avoid eye contact to make this exchange less awkward.  

“Can I ask you a question?” You speak first.

“You just did,” I retort, as if I’d been waiting to use that one for some time now.  I smile, self-satisfied.  You shake your head, and we’re off to a good start.

You recall reading somewhere that a person’s room is a mirror to their state of mind.  A person with a very organized room has his thoughts in order, and vice-versa.  This is absurd, though.  There are clothes hanging off from every conceivable hanging surface; doorknobs, cabinet doors, the closet door, the lamp.  Do I have a system?  Is there a method to my madness?  Or is my madness just that?  ”Well, he is the honor grad, and he passed his NCLEX, so he must be doing fine,” you reason.  

“Wow! Did you do these paintings?” you ask, already knowing that I must have, unless I signed someone else’s work.

“Yea.”

“I didn’t know you paint,” you add.  Okay.  Great.  So what do you want me to respond? ‘Oh you didn’t? Didn’t you get the memo?’ ‘There’s a lot of things you don’t know.’

“Yep.”

“Hey that’s cool, the medical symbol [cadeuces]” still, not a question; not therapeutic; not helpful.

“It’s kundalini; the three Nadis; the ida, the pingala, and the sushumna.” I say, as if you should already know all the useless crap I’ve amassed in my brain.

So all you have to do with me is get in and get out.  Grab some quick vital signs and make sure I have some clue what year it might be.  Perhaps make sure I haven’t poo’d the bed.  You don’t want to touch me, but you will if you have to, after all, it’s part of your job and your a professional.  Even if you must check my genitals, you’ll do so with a glazed look, so as to not focus on any part;  you don’t want to start thinking that I think you’re staring or interested or perverted.  It’s already awkward enough as it is.  But lets not think about that for now.  Uh-oh.  You totally forgot to check my chart to see what I’m even here for.  That will be a great conversation starter, “So, what’r you in for?” like it’s some sort of joke.  ’You’re the fuckin’ nurse, you tell me!’ is probably what I’ll respond, you think.  And you’re right, but only to mess with you.  We’re in this together.  Lets play a little cat and mouse, no?

more to come…

A new song? Couldn’t be! Then who? YOU! You stole the cook… nevermind.

Yea I use baby-blue sparkly gel pen to write lyrics... what of it?

     Ah the inadequacies of language.  I am simply expressing my concession to never being able to express myself fully.  Words are no good; you can see it when someone becomes enraged or delighted, or even experiences a spiritual awakening or suffers a disappointment.  Words and vocal utterances are useless.  That’s why, when the black dude at the basketball court missed, he simply said, “Fuck, man;” it’s obvious he wished to express more but was unable.  This makes me feel intellectually claustrophobic so I’m going to stop writing now before I panic for air.

     I won’t lie.  I have self destructive tendencies. Ever since I was in second grade I pull my eyelashes out with a sick sense of pain mixed with pleasure. You won’t be able to understand it unless you do it too, so don’t feel bad if you think I’m a twisted fuck.  It’s called trichotillomania.  Google it.

     Anyway, sitting here in Wild Wing Cafe, I was going to drown my sorrows in my dear old friend, alcohol: but I managed to resist the urge - mainly because I don’t have any ’sorrows’ (what is this, the year 1411? who has ’sorrow’ nowadays?), I hate alcohol, they don’t start serving for another hour, I have to drive home, and I’m too broke to drink. But I was on the verge, I tell you, the very razor’s edge!

Here’s my story.
     That NCLEX test was gayer than eight guys blowing nine guys.  … Hold on – I just saw an add in the Metro Spirit for a $65 pap smear (tempting… and only $35 for the morning-after pill? BUY ONE GET ONE FREE? OMG!!!!!) Anyway, where was I?

     Ah yes the test. Here is a short story to sum it up. I’m gonna break it down to you Sesame Street style. (BTW, after 26 years of life, today for the first time ever I saw the name “Snuffaluffagus” in writing.  I had never imagined it was such a funny-looking word)  

     The NCLEX was very kind to me.  It made me it’s friend.  It left me feeling whole as a person and confident in my skills.  Afterward, I was glad to have such a nice friend as the NCLEX.  I would take it again any day.  I would recommend it to all my friends!

Translation:

was very kind to me: made me it’s silly little chihuahua bitch dog, spat in my mouth and made me change my name to “Stacy” and said that it was aware that “Stacy” is an androgynous name and had I been born with it, it would have been nice and dignified, but since it was given during an ass raping I should feel humilitated, which I did. Then I swallowed it’s load. 

it’s friend: (see previous translation, but add somewhere in there threw me to the cold concrete floor and fucked me sideways).

whole as a person: humiliated and completely debased.

confident in my skills: pissed at the army for such ill-preparation.

have such a nice friend as the NCLEX: have pre-packed a whole tube’s worth of lube up in the old dumper, making the raping somewhat more not-unenjoyable (what?).

again: again and again and again and again and again until IT got tired!

friends: friend.

Tired of all the anal rape references? I know I am.  Hopefully others have a much better experience than I did.  Not likely though.

Jason