Intolerant (Whole60, Day 1)

In the five days I was off-plan for my birthday, if the scale is to be believed, I gained 10 lbs and several inches (basically, everything I'd lost in 2.5 months of self-deprivation. In five days.) Sometimes I feel like my body is a separate being, with a sick and twisted villainous fucking desire to see me fail. I try very hard to love it, but sometimes I'm like "maybe love be back, motherfucker?"...

On Friday evening (the 14th), some members of the cast went to Jake's (an awesome pizza joint) to hang out and eat junk food. While I sipped my Crispin honey cider and waited on my pepperoni pizza, I chatted with Ron and Barb (the actors playing Mycroft Holmes and Mrs. Hudson, respectively) and being prompted I told them a little about Whole30 and the restrictions it placed on my normal way of eating. Ron mentioned that those kinds of diets worried him; he believes that if you completely cut out an element of food, that you can actually develop an intolerance to it. That your body can "forget" how to process it. That idea fascinated me, and I'd already noticed that my alcohol tolerance has gone waaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyy down given that I now drink so infrequently.

Perhaps it was psychosomatic because his words struck a chord with me, or maybe he was 100% correct - because in the past five days it seemed like every "treat" food I ate made me feel sick. Even though I was (by my own standards) pretty restrained, I felt as though I'd spent twelve hours binge-drinking (after having two small whiskey cocktails) or eaten an entire wedding cake (after eating three homemade chocolate chip cookies.) It seemed like dairy was the worst for me, stomach-wise, but honestly the alcohol felt like poison within a few minutes of consuming it.

On the one hand, I suppose this could be a good thing. My body doesn't "want" foods that are potentially bad for me (even though my brain and my mouth certainly do). On the other hand, I can't help feeling a bit cheated. I trained myself to eat wholesome nutritious foods the vast majority of the time, and in return I can no longer physically enjoy a treat when I allow myself the indulgence. What the fuck?

I have been stressed out with rehearsals and work lately. I couldn't drag myself out of bed this morning to work out (next week I have my evenings off from rehearsals, which will make it easier to exercise. I just...yeah I'm in no fucking mood to do anything lately.) I'm glad to be back on-plan, and I batch-cooked a bunch of basic Whole60 meals yesterday so I could be prepared. Today's lunch and dinner is curried cream of broccoli soup and spaghetti squash with spicy sauce.

Part of this frustration is likely sugar withdrawal. But some of it, I think, is genuine disappointment. The catch to "succeeding" at a plan like this means never going back on it, even for a day or two. If five days of relaxing can reverse the results of SEVENTY-FIVE DAYS of diligence? Fucking hell, dude.

And so begins another two months.