Paleo schmaleo

It has been alomst two months since I started to change my diet in line with the Paleo principles.

 

I have noticed this:

 

Positives -

• The elimination of grains and legumes from my diet was so easy. I have not missed them and I do not crave them. 
• I never feel hungry if I have eaten enough vegetables, protein, fat, fruit and nuts/seeds. 
• I lost 5kgs in the first 2 weeks. I have increased my exercise, but only just so I can't comment on what difference more exercise would make to all of the above. 
• I noticed immediately that I have far fewer headaches - from one or two a week requiring Nurofen, to none at all.
• I almost never fart anymore! Excluding the days when I have a non-Paleo meal (once a week at most) of course.
• I have no breast tenderness and no cramps - at all - when I've had my period.

 Negatives -

• My skin is papery and dry and no matter what I try, olive oil, Bio-oil or moisturiser, the next day it's back to being noticeably papery and dry.
• I have developed an odd dry spot on my leg that will not go away.
• My scalp is really dry.
• In the first weeks my lips were so dry I had to apply lip balm every half an hour.
• I am constantly thirsty despite having always been a "drinker of water".
• Let's not mention my bad breath - embarassing. Pass the Smints.

7 weeks later -

• My period has gone haywire. The first was barely a day and half long (from 3-4 days) and the second the same + a week late.
• My period is due at the end of the week and my breasts are so sensitve that it hurts when I bump them.
• Last week I had my first headache since starting the diet.
• Dry skin and thirst are ongoing.
• I have lost no more weight, and indeed have gained 1kg.

During the first few weeks I Googled a few symptoms that were ailing me, and they included sore knee joints, dry skin, scalp and lips, the menstrual issues, and one other which I cannot recall off the top of my head. What I found completely annoying was that if the website/blog/forum was hosted by a Paleo fanatic, the answer to my questions was always going to be: "It can't possibly be Paleo-related." It must be the weather, or you're not eating properly, or you're exercising too much or not enough or you're old, or you need to use more moisturer, here's a brilliant product to use and so on and so. I don't want to apply coconut oil to my skin to make it less dry! I want my skin to be naturally less dry!As it was in the past, pre-Paleo! I have become suspicious, and I've started questioning why Paleo supporters will not acknowledge the short-comings of this diet.

Conclusion: it's helped in the first few weeks, but with the onset of new and unwanted symptoms I am considering introducing grains and legumes back into my diet. I am sensible and I acknowledge the benefits as stated above, so I will re-introduce one type at a time and see what effect is has before going the whole grain-fed hog.

Now, I still need to lose weight, so Weight Watchers?

This is not a diet blog

However, this is quite nifty. I found it on Pinterest. Pre Caveman on the left, post Caveman on the right.

As for the gym, that's not quite going to plan. I had forgotten until the Direct Debit came off my aching bank account yesterday. Oooops.

A final note: Paleo breakfasts are hard work.

Caveman me up

The last time I penned, I had joined the gym. That did not last long. However, this new year begins with these words: I joined the gym! My quest for fairness extends to diet as well, it seems. One year I eat well and exercise regularly, and the next year I do not. Except for the last 5 years when I just have not. So much for fairness. But this time I mean it! I present to you proof of my ability to adjust my lifestyle at will: GI Jane. I lost 3 and 1/2 stone eating this way (that's about 22kgs for us Metrics) - and I managed to not stuff Chinese take-away (et al) into my face for 3 years.

Then I met My Loved One. After that I skipped down the high-in-bad-fat man-sized portions of lovingly cooked meals and lovingly purchased take-aways and lots and lots of wine path and am now back to that which I vowed would never happen again: my clothes simply do not fit me. 

Enter Paleo, otherwise known as the caveman diet. I'm going to give it a go, that's all I'm prepared to say for now. Watch my ticker and we'll see if I'm a big mouth.

I join the gym

This is not a first. There was a time when I could run 5km in 20 minutes. That's on a treadmill and I am 5 foot 1 and 3/4. That's quite fast. Anyway, 2 years, an engagement ring, and 3 and a half stone later, I have finally done it.... I've let myself go.

I have 282 days before I put on my Honeypie-esque dress and 'fatty bride' is not an option.

Enter Virgin Active. 'We don't do deals. We charge you extraordinary amounts of cash because we can, and because you will pay it.' The hook was the assurance by a tracksuited blonde (ha) that becoming a member would certainly help to increase my confidence. You what? You will be disappointed to hear that I let that one pass.

Today's schedule went like this:

- Powerplate warm-up (5 mins). Fuck me, that works.
- Punching bag (10 mins). Got knocked off my feet by My Loved One. Well into that he was.
- Rowing (10 mins).
- Cross-trainer (20 mins). "Come on honey, make it 25."   "No."
- Swimming (15mins). Maybe 8 laps....but mostly frolicking.

My back hurts and I'm hungry.

I don't want to

Let it be known that I do not want winter this year. I am not ready for it and it is not welcome. It will mean the purchasing of a winter coat. It will mean venturing out to be beaten up by rain and wind. It means darkness at the time of day when we should all be partaking in Afternoon Tea. It's also the 155 night bus home at freezing cold o'clock.

No to winter this year, you may keep it.

Priority # 1

Ordinarily, as ordinary days go, I feel a sense of pride about being a Londoner. A naturalised one, but one nonetheless. We rush around, cramming ourselves onto the tubes making our way to our very busy jobs whilst getting on with our very busy lives. Yet, in amongst that busyness we allow customers off the train first and we offer our seat to the old ones, the less able ones and the preggers ones (except the losers with 'Baby on Board' badges, I think twice about those.)

So because people I know behave this way, I allow myself to assume (and actually believe, as it turns out) that people in general behave this way. You will know by now that this isn't so, as I have led you along so nicely. Apparently the girl with the bad hair (black roots and platinum strands), checking out her nails whilst shrieking "NO WAY! SHE SAID WHAT?" into her phone, did not read the notes on seat etiquette.

Would you, seated on the 155, in a priority seat (the ones that they put big blue signs next to saying PRIORITY SEAT), continue to chat on your phone, whilst an elderly lady is standing in front of you, hanging on to the rail while the driver does what bus drivers do (speed, brake, speed, break, hang on!), and not get up? Not get up when you see her wince because she has had a knee replacement operation and has been in physiotherapy for a year? Would you, seated in a non-priority seat, watch the bad-hair girl not get up, tut-tut her, but not get up and offer your seat, presumably because it doesn't have a blue sign, so you're alright? Would you, a young man with a back-pack, elbow the elderly lady in order to get off the bus, when she too, quite clearly is also getting off the bus (she just can't move as fast as you can)?

Perhaps I only noticed all this because it was my mother-in-law to be swinging on that rail asking how many more stops? So what if it was.

Shame on you Londoners!

I hate recruitment agencies

I may have mentioned this before. I have dealt with recruitment agencies from both sides of the table, so to speak. I've had to use their services to employ staff, and I've had to use their services to find work.

In the former, they phone incessantly, send muffins and chocolates (useful) and random mouse mats and calendars (not so useful since it's hard to move a mouse around on a pile of mats), and worst of all, they always ask me how my weekend was. Why? You don't know me, you don't care about my weekend. You don't care that I downed 6 tequilas then passed out, nor do you care that I stayed in and read a book (Readers, which one was it, eh?). Furthermore, why do you think I will tell you, and do you think that asking is going to make vacancies suddenly appear when you were told last week that we weren't hiring until the new year (and it's June)?

Regarding the latter, sometimes you don't have a choice since all the good jobs seem to be through agencies. So, I duly send my CV in. They call me: "great CV!", and then I never hear from them again. What happened? Was I not suitable? Say so. If I am not suitable why did you say I was? One particular agency advertised 3 roles on different occasions. The same person (whom I met: "we'd love to meet you to determine if you are in fact normal") said that he put me forward for all 3 roles and that I was to be called - all 3 times - about an interview. Readers, this didn't happen. You know who you are, Craig James.

I vowed never to use agencies ever again. (Except Richard O, because I like him and he does what he says he is going to do.) However, now I need a bit of pocket money to make Christmas more rosy, so to my horror, I've found myself registering with the temp agencies because how else will I get temp work? I devised a very special email and have spent some time this morning sending it out to all the usual suspects.

Readers: mortification. I had addressed the email as follows: People could you let me know the registration process... People? I meant had meant to say Please.

Obviously ingratiation sticks in my throat.

Woe is me

I can't help thinking that there must be another posting on this blog with the same title. It is my wont from time to time, as My Loved One frequently points out, to feel self-pity. I mean really feel it. I have a look - usually staring out of the window, a little sigh, and a pathetically small voice that goes with everything. A cup of tea?, I am asked. Deep breath, sigh, "yes please". Cue looking out of the window some more. Today is such a day, because I am unwell. I am illin', as my My Most Delicious Friend Regina Silverspoon® would say. I deplore being ill. Being ill is fine when you get time off school - although I didn't want to in case I missed something (in the playground that is) - and it's fine when you don't have that much to do at work and a couple of days off to watch Murder She Wrote followed by Diagnosis Murder followed by Midsomer Murders followed by a marathon of the King of Queens (Kevin James is someone I am contemplating adding to People I Find Strangely Attractive) is exactly what the doctor ordered. Lying about in bed is: for sex; it's for watching movies on a Sunday afternoon; it's for reading a good book; and of course for beauty-sleeping. It's not for groaning, sniffling and coughing and crying "why is this happening to me?". I want to go out tonight and I shall, if it kills me. This bloody cold.

I fought with Windows Vista and won

So, it's like this. If ever you get an error message "Windows Explorer is not working" and if that message appears on a loop FOR ETERNITY - not working, closing, restarting, not working - and if you cannot DO ANYTHING about it because you cannot access a single thing on your own computer BECAUSE OF IT, just gimme me a call: I'm your IT bitch.

You're welcome.

Where have all the good blogs gone?

It was a Saturday night in, and I was looking for something to read. Usually I scroll through Blogger which has been known to yield some interesting reads, and occassionally a giggle or guffaw. This time however, I was at a loss. What I found, click after click, was a community of poets and wannabe writers, as if the recent successes of blogs-gone-a-published incited a frenzy of hope that they too will be discovered.

For you, some treats I found "on my journey":

'Have no fear, kids. These novels are gonna rock it.' - Rock it? Down with the kids much?

This insightful gem, from a poem called "quarrel": 'no words, no words pass between us today. no words, no words she said.' - Otherwise known as the silent treatment, genius.

'Courtney Kazembe's Blog: Inspiration, Motivation and Transformation' - No, no and no.

There are dozens where that came from, but I got bored writing them down. I will let you explore for yourselves, fuelled by this final inspiration:

'My Weekend: I spent the weekend here at home.' - Hold me back!

Can someone please point me in the right direction?