Paleo, running, and why I don’t ever ever ever bake

Day 3 of Paleo is complete. I’ve been drafting this post in my head all night. And now I think it might be mostly incoherent. You see. Paleo is kicking my butt. At least, energy wise. And I know it’s a crazy diet. And of course I’m lacking energy. I’m eating almost no carbs. But. I’m actually sleeping better. And sleeping more. I’m just still EXHAUSTED. Bed time is 11:30 and not a second later. I’m currently fighting my body to jot this down before Playlist Thursday’s post gets in the way.

I knew my run tonight would be a little rough. As I pointed out – no energy. Plus I stopped eating grains and replaced it with an entire farmer’s market (seriously, I’m going through vegetables like Amanda Bynes is going through car accidents reports…) so Paleo is …ahem…cleaning out my system which equals some digestive adjustments which almost definitely means some cramping. I mustered through 2.25 miles is some really nice weather. Along with almost everyone else in town. That park was packed! But with a view like this, why not.

Now. Paleo. Monday was ok. It was weird to be packing a day’s worth of food that had no grains. But I was ok. I pre-cooked eggs inside bell pepper rings on Sunday night to last the whole week. And then grilled up some balsamic chicken for lunch. Tuesday I woke up and was exhausted and felt like absolute hell. My co-worker who introduced me to this torture health plan was back in the office and assured me the first week was the worst and did I remember how crabby she was (I don’t. I have a terrible memory). She rescued me in the afternoon with banana date carrot muffins made with almond flour and oh. my. so. good. I was also pretty hungry. I tried to replicate them. Now. Her’s looked like an actual muffin. It was all puffed up and sliced down the middle perfectly and tasted just like banana bread. I am not a baker. I just don’t have the patience. And I think when I was little and thought I was a decent baker it was because my Grammy did all the measuring. In reality I inherited my mother’s cooking skills and absolutely zero of my Grammy’s ability to bake. This is what my “muffins” look like.

Feel free to laugh. They look like someone has kindly pre-chewed some sticks and carrots and slapped in muffin wrappers just for me. To be fair. I think my baking soda is past it’s prime. And I couldn’t find almond flour so I substituted with flax seed meal. The internet said I could. The internet lies. But my cooking brain doesn’t understand that. So I said “Eff it. Close enough”. Yeah. No. I can’t wait until my co-worker sees this. She’s going to die laughing. I wonder if I can bribe someone to come bake for me if I’ll cook dinner. Any takers?

In defense, this is what dinner looked like.

Much better, right?

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