About Me

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43yo father of two. Type A, loves to plan, make "todo" lists, and stack things. My heart is on my sleeve. Both sleeves actually. I'm an open book. I favor symmetry. I can't be late for anything. I hate talking politics and religion. I watched the movie “Jaws” when I was much too young (and yes, it still haunts me). I could leap tall buildings in a single bound had I only done more squats and plyometrics as a teen.(Crossfit has me believing that I will one day). For 21 years I hid my mini-battles with OCD, the weirdest obsession revolving around the number “8”, all of which abruptly ended the night of October 27th, 2004. I've never tried an illegal drug, or cigarettes for that matter. People laugh at this, then call me a liar, but it's true. I say "Happy Holidays", not "Merry Christmas". It's the PCness in me I suppose. I leave out the word "God" when I say the Pledge of Allegiance and have so since the 10th grade. I think it has something to do with Separation of Church and State. I prefer sleeping with a night-light. So what? I have one addiction. No wait, two. Actually, three. Ice cream, Crossfit, and triathlon. Yeah, I know, these don't really work together too well.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Week of Weakness: My Impromptu Experiment in What Not To Do



Thanks (only in part) to mounting financial difficulties, compounded by a mistake on the 2011 taxes, life hit “small stone bottom” (which is only a couple of ounces above rock bottom). At first I thought I was dealing with a case of Identity Theft.  The IRS allowed me to believe this.  I even filed the official government form and spoke to our local police department and a family attorney.  I mean, how could I just forget about a sum of money that enormous as to not remember to claim it.  This was made worse by being convinced that it was impossible to “lose” that money, to then find the check stub and W-2 misfiled next to the long-forgotten 2010 tax binder.  My initial gasp of panic could be heard all the way to Washington.  But that gasp became a breath, became a wheeze, became a full blown panic attack that took over my life and landed me in the midst of the Worse Week Eva! 

Two things can happen to me when I land in such a spot.  I never know which one it’ll be until I come to find myself self-loathing, days later, looking for a way, a reason, to regurgitate my pity, and sweep it away like a mashed cockroach.  If I don’t curl up in a ball, become incommunicable, and near lifeless, refusing to eat, and giving in to the “top shelf”, I allow myself every guilty pleasure imaginable, engorging, until the will to do anything above baseline becomes extinct.  I chose the latter for the last week.  It was immediate.  There was ice cream in the house, and I hit it.  All of it.  Three nights in a row, and even one early afternoon (let’s call it lunch).  Girl Scout Cookies?  Yup, made a meal out of a box of Samoas (Caramel Delights based on the state you live in).  Protein shakes?  Screw that.  I have eaten peanutbutter toast and the kids’ breakfast cereal every morning this week.  I felt like as ass using my unsweetened almond milk.  I should’ve used heavy cream, or at least whole milk.  Hell, maybe even chocolate milk.  Easter candy?  Yup, been having a hard time walking into the dining room and not foraging through the two baskets on the table.  Fortunately, I draw the line at Peeps, so they were spared beheading.  Four times this week dinner has either been a peanutbutter and Nutella sandwich (or two), or a huge serving of pasta with grated cheese.  Each night is not exempt either.  Just before bed I mope through every corner of the kitchen looking for a final indulgence.  I’ve had frozen pancakes, homemeade breakfast muffins, the kids’ granola bars for their lunches, fig newtons, peanutbutter graham crackers, handfuls of chocolate chips, Hershey bars, and numerous table spoons of almond butter (Yes, Amanda, it’s a weakness of mine too).

So, you can imagine how much energy I have had to workout in the last week and a half, right?  Damn, you guys are good.  None?  Yup. If you guessed, “None”, you were right.  I haven’t swam, rode my bike, ran, gone to crossfit, or stretched once. And I’m 6 weeks from a Half-Ironman event.  FN Great!!!

You’ve got to be wondering how I must feel.  Let’s just say that I think the experiment is complete.  I’ve eaten about 90% Paleo for almost 8 months, and trained about 5-10hrs/week on average, over the last 6 months.  It is easily the best I have ever felt, mentally and physically.  I am accomplishing things I wouldn't have thought possible less than a year ago.  The way I have felt in the last week is how I used to feel just about every single day about six years ago, and less so, even just last Spring.  It’s ugly.  By day five of this experiment I was immersed in the fourth day of a headache (which continues as I write this).  The following day, abdominal cramping and bloating joined in on the fun.  I can’t fall asleep at night.  I can't stay asleep at night.  I seem to sweat profusely all night.  I pee about twice per day, instead of every 2 hours.  I am never feeling rested or restored. 

But I’m not blaming the IRS.  It’s me.  It’s all me.  It’s nothing but me.  At some point this will break.  I will break.  And when it does, I’m sure I’ll crack a grin, right after I crack an egg.  After all, I heard they are good for you.



Addenda:  Opened a letter this morning from the IRS, and I quote: "Thank you for your response to the notices we sent you about your 2011 taxes.  We're pleased to tell you that the information you provided resolved the tax issue in question and that our inquiry is now closed."
BAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA.  Bullcrap!  I'm not falling for that, because I know I owe you that money now.  I actually found the mistake myself.  This is all part of the government's plan.  Remember I posted on FB about 2 months ago, "I'm becoming more and more convinced that the government's only job is to separate it's citizens from their money."  I know the IRS's plan.  Ten years from now, if I'm not audited before then, they reopen the inquiry and discover the error, and WHAMMO! - now I'm saddled with 10 years of penalties and interest.  Not gonna happen.  I hereby declare this bout a draw (I win).


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