I'm a Rock Star, Oh... Wait, I'm in a... Routine?

This weekend, I decided to try to change my lifestyle by starting a new routine. And by "routine," I mean another overhaul of my life: getting up earlier, going to bed earlier, reading stuff I want to read, working nonstop during the day, leaving work at 4:30 instead of 5:30 or 6:00 but leaving work at work rather than taking it home, eating meals on time, and oh yeah, also trying the Ideal Protein diet.

First, I don't diet. I eat what I want, when I want, and I have the body to prove it. Hell, yeah.

So I am looking at this "diet" as a lifestyle change, the same way I viewed Try-Club. We haven't been back to Try yet this semester (or at least, I haven't) because (a) I'm really busy and (b) I'm really lazy.

I'm actually truly concerned about diabetes, pancreatitus and pancreatic cancer. All three run in my family, and coupled with my friend's continuous, ominous doomsday warnings about eating too many chicken wings, pizzas and donuts (none of which I do, despite her beliefs), I know I have to do more than just work out a few times a week.

If you have read any of my other posts, you might know a little something about some of my other endeavours this year, mainly having to do with this other girl and "My Fitness." She told me not to talk about her so until she changes her mind, I won't mention her name here, but she can change her mind at any time to become part of this and I will gladly write her into the story.

Routines are tough for me because some inner part of my brain thinks I am a Rock Star, and can stay awake all night. Then real life takes over at about 6am but my inner Rock Star still doesn't fully understand that it is part of the same body, and all that fighting inside one body is stressful. It's like all my internal organs are asleep while my outer body is functioning. So I'm here, but not really working on all cylinders.

I started the whole IP thing on Sunday evening. I was going to start on Sunday morning but I woke at 4am, thinking I had to go to work and I wasn't feeling so great. Around 7am, I figured out it was Sun and not Mon, so my spirits brightened a bit. I couldn't eat because I was nauseous, so I figured that was a sign that I should not start right away. I figured I should eat some crackers and tea. I love crackers.

So I ate some.

Then I had one of the IP puddings. YUUUMMMM-MMMMY! Wow, can't figure out why everyone isn't just gulping down protein all the time! I made my lunch for Mon and figured it was time to call it a night.

I then had a panic attack, thinking I had inadvertently started the whole thing and didn't even get to say goodbye to chocolate, so then I had half a chocolate bar just to say goodbye. Whew.

Then I had a cup of coffee. Coffee is ok, but I'm sure the eggnog latte part wasn't.

I was exhausted by 10:30, after getting a bunch of stuff graded, and figured if I ate or drank anything else, I would be past the point of no return, so I drank some water and went to bed.

In bed, I lay awake and thought about all the beautiful crackers out in my cupboard, and how many more crackers in the world there were that I would not get to eat. I was so sad. Eventually, I got a heartburn so I got up and came out to get crackers. With butter. So me-n-Harley trudged off to bed with our plate of crackers-n-butter and we had a fine lunch. Funny, I was eating crackers and water and happier than anything. That's jail food.

I got up this morning, fed Harley his chicken breakfast and made myself a yogurt smoothie. It was alright, I have been eating smoothies for breakfast for awhile, so all was good.

I felt like my eyeballs had opened to twice their size. Did I have more energy or was it just in my  mind?

At work, I was famished by 10am, and could not stop thinking about eating, so I had an IP snack. At lunch, I was so excited to eat a chicken and veggie salad that I could have cried. The thing is, all of this stuff is not new to me. My mother used to cook like this for me, but I'm just too lazy to cook for myself.

I think the while point of IP is to force you to organize and properly portion your meals. To me, it's very similar to how regular mealtimes go, with the exception of the protein packs. Anyway, I think it's good so far.

I find that if I don't space out my snacks, then I get kind of lightheaded because all of the recommended food at one time is too much, and spacing it out is better for me.

At 4:10pm, my last student had left my class and I was closing up shop for the day. My car wouldn't start with the remote so I was flabbergasted and infuriated - so much so, that I forgot my mittens and walked outside without my boots (just my regular shoes) on my feet.

Then, when I got to my car, I went to the bank and had to wait in the drive-thru line. When I got to the ATM, my window was frozen shut. Meanwhile, I was FAMISHED and all I could think about was busting open one of those protein packs and spitting into the package to make pudding or something. That made me contrary.

I stomped into the bank, got cash, and went to Safeway. On the outside, I was very civil, but on the inside where my Rock Star lives, I was screaming and yelling and stomping all around Safeway. I just wanted to eat and have a nap.

My adult person knew I was just tired and hungry, and knew I had to be normal, so I was. Then I got to the line. It snaked down the aisle. It was my lesson in patience. I was being punished for eating crackers, I just knew it. Rock Star vowed I was eating more crackers tonite.

So I got in line, and waited. Waited. Waited.

Finally, I got to leave, even after my club card wouldn't work and give me discounts. At that point, I was ready to rip the raw hamburger meat and frozen shrimp out of the packages and eat them, so I didn't care. I smiled, said 'see ya' to the kid, and left. And cursed out the shrimp (the frozen meat, not the kid) the whole way home.

I got in the door, let Harley out of his doggie area and busted out the crackers. I sat on the floor, and we ate crackers until I felt better. Harley feels good anytime I share food, so all was good in his world.

I realized then, that dog guides always say that your dog should know that you are the alpha, that you are allowing him to eat, and that he only gets food because you allow it. Harley is a good boy and he might cry if I ignore him too long but he usually waits patiently and does whatever I say for food. He rolls over, stands up, sits, does high-fives, whatever (and sometimes tries to do all of it at the same time). But I wondered how bad it must be when you are hungry and don't know when your alpha is going to feed you.

I just about went out of my head because I was on a food routine and I'm doing this to myself. Those little guys really don't know when they are being fed until the food actually comes out. I know where my food is, and I'm restricting it for health reasons. They don't know where it is or when it's coming. They think you are a food magician or the best hunter ever.

After all of that, I had salmon and veggies for dinner because it was the fastest thing I could cook. I cooked everything for the week this evening because I cannot wait like I had to do today. It could get dangerous for me - the Rock Star might get whiney or start shouting. That's not good. I could be arrested.

If I am limiting food, the food needs to be available now.

When I say 'suppertime!' Harley flings his arse around so that he spins (I call those his 'cartwheels'), and he rolls over. The poor dog doesn't know if he is getting his chicken supper, crackers or cheese.

This 'diet' aka lifestyle change will work. The first couple of days are difficult for anything. Routine is REALLY difficult for me, no matter what the routine is. Set times for meals and sleeping/waking really gets under my skin. I feel like I am 7 years old.

But I don't want to die due to bad choices, and I don't want diabetes, so it's time to change. If I get diabetes anyway, I'm eating chocolate and crackers and the fattiest latte I can think of, all at the same time. I don't even care.