Yesterday was the worst day in the history of my Whole30. I woke up after dreaming about buying dozens of treats from a cupcake-and-donut shop — btw, who runs a cupcake AND donut shop?? — and stumbled out of bed with the faint taste of cinnamon roll cupcake on my tongue. Mistake number one.
Then I proceeded to go for a run for the first time in a couple of months, after which I was very hungry and couldn’t seem to get full. I made a green smoothie, ate some eggs, ran some errands, came home for lunch, and continued to feel munchy. So down goes a small bag of plantain chips, crunch crunch crunch…
Which wasn’t so bad. But then I embarked on a massive baking mission to feed several friends and community members, in which I made three dozen applejack molasses cookies and three batches of cornbread. I ended up tasting a cookie out of each batch, and then probably a couple more for good measure. At this point, it’s all a blur. (But it is a good thing I taste-tested because I left the eggs out of one batch. Oops.)
That left me feeling sluggish and guilty, two of my least favorite feelings. That, compounded by a terribly unsuccessful dinner out at a restaurant, made for one grumpy mess of me.
My sweet husband drove us out to a bar & grill out on the lake we’d heard about and had wanted to try. It was going to be one of the first date nights out we’d had in a long time because we’re watching our budget and trying to save money by eating at home exclusively. There were some potentially Whole30-friendly options on the menu: burgers ordered without the bun, kebobs, salads. I got a grilled chicken breast topped with avocado and pico, with two vegetable sides. I thought I was safe. Little did I know that the grill cooks were actually the same people that made my cafeteria lunches from yesteryear — at least, that’s what it tasted like. Frozen, chemical-y chicken with some weird spice mixture (I swear I detected MSG), frozen steamed carrots with the texture of styrofoam, and “pico” that was actually canned corn with a couple of mealy tomatoes thrown in. I just couldn’t eat it. Insert pouty child rendition of “yucky” here.
How fitting that all of this transpired on Whole30 Day 18, the same day that I quit the challenge on my last go ’round. The forces that be were out to break me yesterday, but I’m back on my feet and ready to break this bronc today.