CFNE: Shark Attack!

Oh Miss Mama please don’t say it’s so. I am here to tell you in the full spirit of authenticity, the pressure on Labor Day was too much to bear. I strayed from Paleo. Now, given that the Paleo Point’s system is as unforgiving as Meryl Streep in Doubt, I sinned. I committed a venial sin, not a mortal sin. But, with the Paleo Challenge having a dip of hummus can reduce you to a three and a brownie can take you to zero. Fuzzy math as Bush touted before Al Gore. Fuzzy math…

So, I had a set of kick ass workouts Saturday, Sunday and Monday. And, I ingested my fish oil which remains battery acid in taste; quick aside I interviewed Lorraine Bracco 2 years ago about her eponymous wine company and she coined the term battery acid taste. However, the cook out on Sunday left me with 2 points. One for attending CFNE and one for taking my oil of the fish.

The BBQ I attended was at my parents’s house, where I currently live (don’t judge bitches). As my mother is preparing for her first marathon at 62, she is particularly sensitive to food issues and athletic performance. F’ that, I am not going to lie, Carol (mom) refers to herself as the Paleo Police. Each time I reach for something, her eyebrow raises.

Well, in good faith, the old woman put together a spread that was Paleo with fruit salad, meat, no buns, little seasoning and lots of water. The guests were another story. They brought the brownies, the blueberry cobbler, the potatoe salad and pasta salad.

Now, you know how those sharks are in Chatham looking for the delicious baby seals, swimming in circles: that was me around the table with the guests’ contributions to the cookout. The brownies (and this is directed at my mom, “Why were the brownies on the GD table with all of the food? Desserts are to be hidden until real food eaten”) were my baby seals. I hovered around the table when all was outside. The lights seemed to dim and my inner shark taunted me. Before I knew it, I picked the small square of heaven, downed it without really tasting anything. And, somewhere along the way, a Marine Biologist at Woods Hole tagged me with a GPS.

So, a day of perfection turned into a feeding frenzy, I thought, fuck it, I am already at zero points. So, I had a scoop of potatoe salad, a scoop of pasta salad and 14 hamburgers without buns.

Am I pissed, yeah. Am I thinking I am a failure: no. I didn’t go overboard. I portioned the bad staff and interacted normally with the guests. I cannot allow my failures or hiccoughs in the road distract me. I am not perfect and I have been eating like shit for 5 years. Old habits die hard. But, you have my word, I will do my best and always be honest about it.

Here is a little Ricky Gervais to lighten the mood: