So, this is the weekend . . .
Saturday was a day of not doing much. There was some house cleaning, scraping paint off woodwork, misplacing my wallet and having to cancel a trip for groceries with a friend, watching TV shows on the Internet.
Then I lay down for a nap about seven p.m. yesterday (Saturday) and woke up about one-thirty a.m. today (Sunday). It's about four twenty-five a.m. now. So basically my weekend is over.
Today, Sunday, is basically about getting ready for the work week. I go to church to try and grasp some encouragement for plunging back into it. This afternoon I take a nap. This evening I try to aggregate my fecal matter and get mentally as ready as I can for Monday through Friday. . . .
I have been looking on the Internet for any information I can find that might help me with my swollen left foot. It's been swollen and tender on the top for about a week. I've done a lot of icing and elevating, and it's made only a small amount of difference.
This developed gradually. My foot was sore for a couple of days the previous week because I put my foot wrong walking and put too much weight on it suddenly.
Thinking of dietary influences, I have been trying to track what I eat and have realized that I may have recently had too much salt in my diet from salted almonds. But my diet has been decent: meat (hamburger, chicken, turkey), eggs (chicken), butter, non-starchy veggies, nuts, coconut milk, olive oil.
Okay, there were a couple of no-nos. One day last week, I had a salad with barbecued chicken from a place near work, and the chicken pieces were breaded. I was hungry, so I ate them.
With another salad last week I had a packet of Paul Newman's salad dressing with canola and soybean oil in addition to olive oil.
It probably hasn't helped that I've been shackled to my desk at work. If I don't get up and move around now and again, at the end of a work day both of my ankles can be swollen.
I'm still fat and still tired, and now I have an effed up foot. But it would, I am convinced, be much worse if I were still eating SAD.
The beginning of getting stronger?
So, in the middle of all the other stuff of the past week, I discovered what shape I'm in.
If I stand up straight in the middle of the kitchen and raise my hands to the ceiling and then lower them quickly (sort of like I'm reaching up to yank something down from the ceiling), I can do that fifty times. '
If I am holding a can of black olives (weighing six ounces) in each hand, I can do it thirty times.
If I hold onto a door frame for support, I can bend each leg and raise the knee to about waist height thirty times.
Food today was simple. For breakfast and lunch, I ate about half a pound of cooked ground beef. For supper, I cooked some beef round sandwich steaks and ate five (they were small). For supper, I also ate a mess of greenbeans and mushrooms cooked in olive oil and sprinkled with parsley and garlic.
Also, for reasons unknown, my foot is not swollen like it was yesterday. Just a tiny bit swollen on top.
Tomorrow, another chance to earn money begins anew. . . .
The surprises that come from drinking and running, not necessarily together
Interesting day today. Started last night at bedtime.
Still wound up from a pretty labor-intensive work day, I put my emergency relaxation plan into action. Two jiggers of rum, knocked back. Usually gives me ten minutes to brush my teeth and get in bed, then out like a light (and no after-effects the next morning). But nothing.
Two more jiggers. Still nothing.
Two more jiggers for a total of six. Then I began to significantly unwind. So, I went to bed. And still, when I woke up, no after-effects. (My Scottish ancestors may roll in their graves, but this is one reason I like rum better than whiskey.)
Then I weighed myself. Six weeks ago, I got serious about eating Primal, dropped five pounds in a couple of weeks, and stalled at 235. This morning I weighed 231. I'm not going to say drinking six jiggers of rum had anything to do with it, but wouldn't it be lovely to try a steak and rum diet for . . . maybe a weekend?
And who knows? If I eat a salted almond tomorrow, I may end back at 235.
This afternoon after work, I surprised myself by *running a block* to the next stop to catch a bus that had closed its doors and taken off right as I got up to it. I think I surprised the bus driver when I got on. She gave me yadda-yadda about how the bus can't stop when it starts to leave the curb, but the bus hadn't left yet. I said, "The one good thing about this is that I have learned I can still run." A couple of people on the bus clapped.
The down side is that for a week now, my foot has definitely been feeling sore, as if somebody stepped on it and bruised it (though I don't know how it got that way). After catching the bus, my foot is definietly sore. I think I have to see the doctor about this for sure now.