Day 4 of 30 – No Deficit Today
|Calories in||Calories out||Deficit|
|4522||3000(haven’t actually ran yet so this is an estimate)||-1522++++|
No deficit today.
My God I’ve eaten terribly. Hilariously so. Even by my own standards. I arrived home from London. The plane was OK but I got nervous and antsy on the flight. I’m much happier on trains and boats. I don’t find myself trying to reconcile with Gods I don’t even believe in on every fucking trip.
My mam bought me an Easter Egg so I thought I’d take a bit of the shell at lunch. Shit lead to more shit and eventually I’d eaten the entire fucking thing in about 15 minutes.
I just couldn’t stop fucking eating. It was all going into my face at an alarming rate. By 5pm I was sitting on a hilarious 4,522 calories. 715g of carbs.
Dr Pete Atilla the bald champion of keto would be crying into a bottle of coconut oil shampoo at me. 715g is a summer worth of carbs for him and Owen Wilson.
I’ve always eaten in a disordered way as an adult. It’s how I got fat in the first place. How can I write blogs about healthy living when I’m still this crazy? It’s ridiculous. Normal people sit down and eat a lovely garden salad at a table, talk about real estate and then do yoga.
I scoff, run and shit.
Usually all on the same run too. Especially during these sexy summer months.
Up until 505 days ago I drank on top of it which obviously made life worse. Put what I ate today but add in 4 or 5 pints of Thistly Cross Cider and I’d be up above 6,000 calories on an average homecoming day.
I’m going to be back to deficits again tomorrow. I didn’t sleep at all last night as I had to be up by 3:30am for the flight back from Stansted. It meant I had a lot more time for eating than normal.
That’s 4 positive days vs 1 bad one. It’s all about my response and I showed last week I can respond well so I’m not down.
I haven’t been on a run yet and it’s 11:15pm here. I need to get fucking out. The trouble is that my stomach is upset. I keep sitting on the John and letting out the same massive fart. It sounds like a proclamation of independence from my bumhole.
Got out for my run. Tried to sustain a sub 5 minute/km pace for as long as possible. Got to 7.5km. My lungs are fucked. First time I’ve worked them since Munich. Not much fun there.