Some of the women I work out with at my CrossFit gym began a 30 day “strict” Paleo challenge on April 1st and they invited me to join them. If you’ve read my previous post about eating Paleo, then you’ll remember that I’ve already been eating this way for the most part. I’ve basically followed the 80/20 rule… 80% Paleo 20% other. Well, this challenge would mean shooting for a percentage a little closer to the 100 mark. But because I wanted to see what kind of results I could get, and because I had put on some winter pounds, and because hockey season was about to begin and I wanted to not DIE on the field, I decided to give it a shot. Really, what did I have to lose? Besides a few inches or pounds?
A friend asked me recently to help her get started on a Paleo eating plan. I’ve actually had the idea over the last few months of posting something similar here in case anyone else was interested, so I just happened to have some pictures I’d already taken! I won’t go into too many details about the Paleo way of eating. But basically, it’s eating like the cavemen (and cavewomen) ate. So pre-agriculture, meaning basically, meat, fruits, veggies, nuts and seeds. It also happens to be a popular diet amongst CrossFitters for its muscle strengthening, fat burning qualities. There are many resources out there and I am not an expert. In fact, I’m a big, fat cheater. I do, however, hope it will be helpful to anyone interested in eating healthier, and possibly shedding some body fat while gaining muscle tone. This way of eating helped me to lose 25 pounds about a year and a half ago. I’ve since gained some of that back, but I believe that’s due to an increase in muscle, not body fat. Because she’s anxiously awaiting my recommendations, I’m not going to spend too much time on writing and making this a perfect post. This is quick and dirty. If I leave something out or you have questions, please just ask! Here’s what I recommend for a beginner’s first week of Paleo eating!
I have a “bleeding heart”. It seems to run in my family. I am constantly calling my mom a “bleeding heart” because it doesn’t take her more than two minutes talking to a stranger for her to discover that the person is struggling somehow. Immediately, she begins offering emotional support. She becomes overly sympathetic, and it used to drive me crazy growing up. I didn’t get it – Why did she care so much? It had nothing to do with her or her life. Couldn’t she just put it aside so we could continue on with what we were doing?
I started CrossFit sometime in October of last year. I never intended to join… I was happy working out at my local Mommy Bootcamp, despite the fact that I was the only one without toddlers following them around. But when G, who had signed a year contract 6 months prior, hurt his knee and could no longer attend, I figured I had better take his spot if we were going to be paying for the membership. I was quite terrified at first, to be honest. It wasn’t the act of weight lifting that intimidated me… Weight lifting had been one of my favorite classes in high school! But working out in a primarily male-dominant atmosphere did. And I knew enough about it to know that there were strong military ties with CrossFit… and lots of yelling (of the encouraging variety, but yelling all the same) and pain (the good kind, if there is a good kind).
Ok, it wasn’t really my FIRST. I did watch several of the 2010 World Cup matches, but this was in the very early days of what would become my crazy, footballin’, soccer-mom life, so it doesn’t really count. I had no idea who anyone was. I didn’t know which teams were considered “good”. I had never seen Ronaldo, Messi, or Rooney play, or had even heard of such people as Özil and Iniesta. I believed the USA could make it to the final, because they were the USA, I thought “soccer” was generally boring to watch, and that the only way the sport would impact my life would be the couple of days that I’d agree to sit and watch alongside G until the competition was over. Probably scrapbooking on the side or something.
G and I had wanted to go to Spain for years. YEARS. But we never actually thought it’d happen. We’re not world travelers… either of us. I had been to Europe in college (Italy) but other than that, neither of us had been further than Cancun, Mexico. Well, thanks to some decent tax returns and G’s entrepreneurial success this past year, we were able to save up the money to fund the trip of a lifetime. Or at least a decade. And there’s no doubt… our (my?) football obsession may have played a significant part in getting us to finally take the plunge and buy the tickets.