One Thousand In

Today is one of these weird days in the process of my recovery where I know I need to eat but I can’t. I spent a considerable amount of time over this weekend creating delicious foods that fit the macro requirements I’m after. And I know that the food is good – I’ve been eating on it since Friday. But I’m having a mental block.

So often, these blocks have very little to do with what my body needs – fuel – and what’s going on inside my head. Pressure from the upcoming week, the prospect of Residency on the horizon, and a whole host of other issues makes me feel like I haven’t earned my food. This thought comes after an intense session of squats and deads this morning, followed by 150 flights on the stepper, a five mile run and a grueling ab workout. Just writing out all of that exercise makes me shake my head. What the fuck is wrong with me? I probably burned damn near a thousand calories … ok, probably, my ass. I know I burned that many because I track my workouts. And know what? My calorie total for the day is just shy of six hundred. It’s so fucking whack.

Thing is, I know better. I am well aware of the fact that I need to eat so I can train, and that without proper nutrition, especially as a part time vegan athlete, I won’t be able to progress on any of my training. Last week, I set personal bests for my compound lifts, and I know it’s because I’ve been eating at 1200 calories a day. But knowing that my coach is upping my daily requirement to 1400, coupled with tomorrow being a rest day has my mind all sorts of jacked.

The rational thing to do would be to just eat. So easy, right? Except I can’t. I mean, I will. I’ll force myself to have a protein shake or something. But it’s going to be super rough.