So, I made a major miscalculation. It appears if you don’t feed yourself enough, you starve the muse as well.
I didn’t intend to do that. I just wasn’t keeping careful enough track. See, I’m fat. I’m not “a little padded” or “big boned.” No, I’m just fat. Which annoys me. Earlier this year, I focused on bulking muscle for weightlifting, and I got fatter. That was inevitable, because once you’re past the rawest newb stage, it’s physiologically next to impossible to gain muscle without also gaining fat at the same time.
However, I’d decided it was time for a cut, because that would be less of a pain in the posterior than buying another size of clothes up. Again.
Now, some people are highly disciplined and track macros and calories. For the rest of us, it works to start with “cut carbs, add veg, cut portion sizes, and once the habits are in place, clean it up with all the fussy macro tracking as able.”
It mostly worked, except for the intended goal. Over the last 3 months, I wasn’t losing fat, and I was too tired and busy to deal with the fussy bits of calorie and macro tracking. I just focused on eating less, and cutting carbs, until I reached a point I could not make myself eat any less – trying to cut from there made hunger overcome my fading willpower.
So I finally sat down last week and tracked my macros. The ratios were off, but more importantly…
During the workweek, I was eating 650-870 calories… a day.
This would explain why I’ve been exhausted, and cold, and hurting, and not able to come up with words much less do all the other ever-present chores outside of Day Job. And why my weightlifting has sucked.
It also proves that the “You just have to eat less and move more” crowd of weight loss is more full of dung than a constipated elephant, because my body was cannibalizing muscle, leaving me still fat.
I confessed to my coach, who read me the riot act. I’m apparently supposed to be eating a lot closer to 3000 calories a day for the weightlifting I do. (It’s actually physically difficult for me to hit that target, much less on target for macros. Ah, well, iterate better.)
After a week of drastically increasing intake, I’m sleeping a lot better. I am feeling no less run down at the end of the day, but things get done a lot faster with energy left over at the end, so I get a whole lot more done during each day.
And the words have started to come back. The fight scene that I spent a month not able to figure out is now finished, and it only took a day to write.
Unfortunately, I got it written instead of being at FenCon because my love woke up with a fever, so maybe there’s more than one reason I’m still feeling pretty flat. But we get better by and by, fix by fix.
Take care of yourself, you hear?