You’d fire your mechanic if he didn’t fix your car, you’d fire your plumber if he didn’t fix your toilet, so why don’t you fire your personal trainer if he doesn’t fix your body? The IF Life has a wonderful article on 10 things your personal trainer won’t tell you.
If you’re in the mood for a chuckle, read Coed Fitness Tips’ Spartan Training Rules. Then go out and release a barbaric yop even mightier than Leonidas’s.
Want something even funnier? Pay Now Live Later reveals a super serious study about how high carbohydrate diets increase longevity. Serious, serious stuff.
It’s two days after the big event. You’re just now waking up from the gastric coma. And, depending on how faithful you were to the Primal Blueprint throughout the week (a tall order, I know, especially for those of us who grew up eating carb-laden Thanksgivings), you’ll be recovering from varying levels of glycemic shock. Oh, sure, you tried to follow our Primal eating plans as best you could, but once the relatives started showing up bearing steaming trays of stuffing, flaky-crusted pies, and gallons of mashed potatoes… it all just sorta fell apart. That first tentative bite of cornbread dressing led to a second, and a third, and that’s where you lost control. Hey, I get it. We all get wistful for the food of yore, especially around the holidays.
You packed up the pumpkin pie and gave it to Aunt Marie and sliced up the sweet potatoes and shipped it off with you cousin Glen, but now you’re left with a heap of leftover turkey and not a plan in the world for what to do with it.
A problem? Nope, not when you consider all the tasty – and primal – items you can make with the leftovers!
Catalogs, store fliers, magazine articles, and recipe books presume to offer it: “All you need to make a perfect Thanksgiving!” By now most of us have the “stuff” that typically goes into Thanksgiving: the food, the festive napkins, the centerpiece, etc. We’ve unearthed the ginormous serving tray from the basement and dug out the carving set. We’ve taken down the box that holds Grandma Rose’s old gravy boat. And we’ve likely ironed out the logistics of the occasion: when guests will arrive, when the turkey will go into the oven, and who will bring what. We’ve straightened the house, cajoled the kids to make their bedrooms presentable, and maybe the more ambitious and organized among us have even made a dish or two ahead of time.
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