My New Diet Involves Giardia, or Maybe Ebola

***Warning, it is possible this post may contain too much information, and is probably also too long and boring to read.******

So, at some point in the last year or so I decided I should try to lose a little weight.  This has gone well, except for the fact that I have gained 10 lbs.

I've tried everything from the Beer Diet to the Chik-fil-A Diet.  I tried eating but Cocoa Pebbles for a week, and I tried only eating food that has been dyed red.  Nothing.  

So one day, I got this idea to go for a run.

And by “run” I mean jog slowly for about a minute, then gasp and wheeze and choke for about two, and then  repeat for 15-20 minutes.  It had been a good 6 months since I finished my personal record for the 5K (39 minutes, woo!), and I hadn’t so much as jogged to my car for a fresh pack of cigarettes since.

The next day, I did it again (jogged, I mean).

And the day after.

And the day after that.

By the end of the week, I could jog really really slowly for a whole mile.  In a row!  Without breaks!

Everything seemed to be going well.  Three weeks into my training program, it was no longer a stretch to jog for 30 minutes in a row with very few breaks.  So I signed up for the Bolder-Boulder.  I know, I know, last year was a DISASTER, but this time I started training before I signed up.  It was going to be awesome.  I was NOT going to sabotage myself.  I was totally going to win.

Week 1, I ran 10 miles.
Week 2, I ran 11 miles.
Week 3, I ran 12 miles.

And then it hit.

Monday, April 25^th.

Not only were my boss, and my boss’s boss in town for a meet and greet, but I had to run (not walk, not jog, but run) to the bathroom about 5 times before lunchtime. 

Awesome.

I already knew I was going to have to skip my workout on Monday and Tuesday while they were in town.  

There wouldn’t be enough time because I wanted to have lunch with them and look like I gave a shit at work, and there was no way I was going to get my ass out of bed before work, and after work was out because once I get home I transmorph in to Slug-Leauxra and never get anything done.  But now my body had stopped digesting food and was just spitting it out the other end.  Lovely.

My stomach issues seemed to ease up as the week progressed, and I actually managed to run a little over a mile on Wednesday.  And then I ran another 2 miles on Sunday.

So I got three miles in for the week in training.

The weekend ended, and quite suddenly, I thought I might die.  But this is where I started getting confused, because a lot happened on Monday.

Not only did the stomach cramps and runs (ha ha, I am so punny) to the bathroom get worse, but I was feeling listless and bloated and started to wonder if something was really actually wrong with me.

It was about 9AM when I realized that I didn’t know where my iPod was.  No music for me, I had to listen to my coworkers while I tried to “work”.

And THEN all the internets were abuzz because Osama bin Laden had been killed.  It seemed weird that people were celebrating in the streets.  Who does that?

And because I felt sick, and because when I am sick, I spend a lot more time slacking at work, and this quote kept popping up on facebook (I know, because I checked facebook about 30 times an hour that morning, trying to avoid the news and thoughts of bowel movements), and this quote kept popping up:

This was later shown to be a misquote because quotes on facebook end up being a little bit like playing "telephone".  Click the picture for the whole story.

 

My brain started doing this weird little whirlwind as it flitted from subject to subject: I have to shit! A terrorist was killed.  Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music.  I have to shit! A terrorist was killed. Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music.  I have to shit! A terrorist was killed.  Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music.  I have to shit! A terrorist was killed.  Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music.  I have to shit! A terrorist was killed.  Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music.  I have to shit! A terrorist was killed.  Someone misquoted Martin Luther King, Jr.  I can’t listen to music. …

At some point, I think the walls in my brain finally fell down, and these were ALL THE SAME THING.

"Man, digestive problems are the motherfucking worst." - Florence Nightingale

So I didn’t run.  I felt like was getting better as the day progressed, and took a long walk down to the pub with my parents and boyfriend.  As soon as I had a beer, the tummy rumbles were back.

A new fear emerged that I couldn’t drink beer.

Tuesday was a repeat.

"This day sucks balls." - Charles Darwin

I tried having a home-made chicken noodle soup in the café at work, and realized that I was going to die.  My stomach bloated up like a Macy’s Parade float.  I was going to explode.  

I started wondering if I had my own little stomach terrorist.  Giardia.  Ebola.  E coli.  The plague.

My former boss and current running partner (“The thing is, Bob, it's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care.”), asked me if I was maybe lactose intolerant.  Or gluten.  Maybe it was IBS.

I wondered if I just needed a new catalytic convetrer.

"Pull my finger" - Neil Armstrong

I came to the conclusion that I just couldn’t eat.  Anything.

And what did I think then?  Did I think, “Gee, Leauxra, you should go to the doctor,” or “Uh, oh, this seems serious…”  

Oh no.

I thought, “If I have a flesh eating virus, I will probably FINALLY lose some weight.”

Yeah.  No. I don’t have a fucked up body image or anything.

"OMGWTFLOL" - Ben Franklin

And even though I knew there was something going on with my brain, and that I wasn’t thinking clearly, the only solution I had was to talk to my friend Suzi  aka Voltaire on Google Chat and misattribute random quotes.

"Que Sera Sera" - Sun Tsu

I got home in the evening, and hadn’t had to shit in like, 4 hours.  My boyfriend made me Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup (the kind that is mostly broth) because he is awesome, and I continued to not feel sick even when he fed me some Mike and Ike's.

"What's wrong with this goddamned printer?" –Voltaire

So I am writing this on Wednesday.  At work.  I had yogurt for breakfast, and I have another can of soup for lunch.  So far, I feel... normal?   

I will continue to eat yogurt, Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup, and red colored candy (new diet?).

I am going to go for run in during my lunch break, but "If I start shitting blood I'll go to the goddamned doctor!" - Mark Twain.

**** Special thanks to Suzi aka Voltaire (they share a freaking BIRTHDAY, yo) for feeding me random quotes all day