It's Friday. Every week, I give myself one "rest day" and it's typically on Fridays. My rule is no intentional exercise on that day. This allows my muscles to repair themselves and my joints to get a much needed break from the insanity I put them through daily. So, here it is, my rest day... (Side note: I actually ended up at the gym this morning but this was due to the fact that I was going to support a friend who, at the last minute, decided that their warm bed was a lot more fun than sweating it out at 5am.)
In addition to it being a rest day, I am usually much more relaxed about my eating habits (a.k.a cheat day). Through experience, I've learned that having one higher calorie day during the week "resets" your body and puts it back into a losing mode. The body is very smart and when you give it less calories than it wants, it will think you are starving and will hold on to the fat, just in case you need it. Eating more calories on one of the days of the week tricks your body by saying "Hey now, body of mine, I am not starving you at all. Look at all this food you've got" so that when you eat less the next day, it will allow itself to lose some fat, knowing that you won't need it.
When I have my rest/cheat day, I'll usually allow myself a "naughty" food like cookies or ice cream. As you probably know, I am ok with "anything in moderation" when it comes to sweets and treats but I don't moderate on my cheat day. If I want a whole bowl of ice cream or a slice of cookie cake then darn it, that's what I eat. That's always been my plan. But that ends today...
Let me explain. Today, I ate like I used to eat. I didn't look at a label. I gave no thought to calories, fat, protein, or carbs. This was intentional as I decided that I wanted to see how this would affect me. Would I have more energy for my workouts? Would I have a sugar crash later in the day? How much could my body handle? (And what better day to do this than the day before a planned 14 mile run, right?) I gobbled up some of the Andes candies I keep in my candy dish for guests; I helped myself to one of my son's chocolate pop tarts (gag); I ate lasagna for breakfast. Yes, people, I said LASAGNA FOR BREAKFAST! I was Maria, three years ago.
And now, sitting here at 4pm, I am sick as a dog. My belly is aching and I am in a rotten mood. My body doesn't know what to do with all this excess sugar. I am laying around like a lump and not doing my usual "Yo Gabba Gabba" dance routine with the kids. I am not myself.
In less than 8 hours, I have managed to transform from a happy-go-lucky motivational cheerleader-type flitting around the house, accomplishing her entire to-do list to a sluggish pile of poo curled up in the corner of the couch.
And I will never....mark my words...never do this to myself again.