The Freak in the Room
DAY TWENTY-FOUR (Four Weeks to Augusta 70.3)
To some degree, this is usually me. The Freak in the Room.
Whether it’s Party Girl Meredith (“Oh em gee. Did she really drink seven martinis? And she is still standing?”) [….You betcha I am. In fact, I’m dancing!]
….or whether it’s the new and improved Party Pooper Meredith (“She’s on her seventh soda water. I remember when she used to be fun.”)
…I’m always the freak in the room. How does this happen? I have a couple of theories.
1) It’s Not You, It’s Me
Whether I’m drinking the men under the table, or whether I am being the lame-o who is not eating or drinking anything… I’m still the crazy one. Because if I drink and eat in Party Girl form, then I am the super crazy one. If I don’t drink anything and talk about waking up for my 5 mile run, then I am the super crazy one.
Basically, I can’t win. Still the freak.
2) I’m Actually in a Cult
One of the athletes I coach sent me this classic video. Always a good laugh.
“Ironman is not a cult!”
I went to a Braves game for a super fun client event last night. And I was a Whole30/Eight to Great ninja. [a/k/a …..total freak]
I ate a salad in the car on the way to the game.
I ordered seven soda waters.
I ate a burger patty wrapped in lettuce.
And I had a great time.
My pal, Mountain Goat, has been a freak for a long time. I distinctly remember when we were both lawyers at the same firm —she pulled out a bag of carrots at a cocktail party. And poured Vitamin C into her soda water at another event. She always left early and didn’t care.
That Goat, she’s a freak. And I finally get it!
3) It’s my Astrological Sign’s Fault
Last night at the game, a co-worker asked me, “What’s your sign?”
I said, “Scorpio” and he screamed, “I KNEW IT! You are just like my wife. She’s a one-track focus mind. She’s all in or all out.”
I thought, that’s so me. If I am going to drink, then dammit, I am going to be the best drinker EVER! If I am doing triathlon, then I am going to focus on that. Doesn’t matter what the focus is…. it’s just a one-track mind.
An obsessive, addictive personality focusing on the wrong things.
The difficult thing for me is balance. I can’t balance. I just pile.
This way of eating has made me focus on the things I need to obsess about: my health.
It’s only one life.
4) I’m Just Gonna Fly my Freak Flag
Last night’s events made me realize many things. That I can still have fun without the “party” and that I can wake up after sleeping just a few hours, and feel okay because I didn’t add the added stress of booze and sugar devil food.
Why this was a revelation, I’m not sure.
And the funniest thing to me… is that I was still the same loud-mouthed, sassy goofball with or without the liquid courage last night. I don’t need it to get through situations. I don’t need to snack nervously. I don’t need any of it.
There is power in being in control of myself.
And even after going to bed way after midnight, I woke up early and completed my run.
I never acknowledged before… the power of being free to be me. The freedom to really control my nutrition.
I didn’t believe that me ….that I …was (good enough? smart enough? doggonit people don’t like me?) enough to stand alone in social situations. To end my hard day at life and work without the fabulous sound of a beer being opened, or a basket of chips and salsa in front of me. To not “self-medicate” my troubles away. To just relax and be me…
I think why Whole30 resounds with me is that it’s not restrictive. What? YES IT IS, you scream. Well, yes and no. The clear rules makes it manageable. The wide variety of food makes it enjoyable, especially now that I am over the sugar crashes and my tastebuds have changed. It’s got just enough flexibility to make it work (wrap a burger patty in lettuce; tear apart a chicken sandwich; salads…. you can find the stuff anywhere, really).
I am on Day Twenty-Four of Whole30 & Eight to Great. I am going to continue for another 4 weeks right up until Augusta 70.3.
Because I feel great. And when I don’t feel great, staying out of the pantry forces me to address what’s going on with myself internally.
I feel sane. As sane as a freak can be.
And I feel sweaty, oh so sweaty… and it’s all good.
I realize that I haven’t made a log of my meals since Monday. But I do know that I have eaten perfectly.
Lots of eggs. Mahi Mahi salad. Salmon salads. Chicken sausage. Kale. Zoodles.
I’ve been presented with awkward lunch situations where I was forced to order oddly: please don’t put anything on my salmon. No cheese. No oil. But it worked. I did it.
Today, I was presented with Panera Bread catered lunch for my choice. I piled on a salad and tore apart two sandwiches for the turkey and tomato – impromptu turkey salad. No dressing because I know it was soybean oil. It was dry, but it worked. [I did not look at the cookies.]
For me, it’s all about going into the situation with a smart mentality: “I am not going to eat badly. I am not going to drink anything other than unsweetened tea and soda water.”
Making the right choice ahead of time keeps me, and my Scorpio self, on track. You already told yourself no… so follow the rules, there freakhead.