I started my pre-competition diet 22 days ago and have lost 7.1 pounds so far. I am allowed to eat precise amounts of chicken, bison, egg whites, protein powder, basa, and skim milk for protein, along with brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, and butternut squash for carbs. I have six relatively small meals per day, enjoying low, medium, and high food days. So far, it has not been too difficult, though I admit to having drafted another post called ‘FML [Fuck My Life] Diet Moments,’ in which certain challenges will be explained, hopefully in amusing detail. One small problem is that continually cooking sprouts makes my kitchen smell like German baby farts. More about that later. First it is important to note that the diet includes an extensive regime of supplements, taken at seven intervals throughout the day. I am not even sure what they are, and will shortly research them online, reporting my findings to you. Here is a picture of my organizational system, designed with containers purchased in the Alzheimer’s Aisle at the drugstore. It is right beside ‘Incontinence Corridor.’ According to my family history, I will soon be suffering from confusion and an inability to use the knobs on the stove, so this diet is helping me prepare for the inevitable.
The Queen of my Regime [QMR] had given me a long list of supplements, with such acronyms as BCAA and CLA. No doubt with a puzzed look on my face, I carried her instructions to the specialty shop, asking the man-clerk for help. He looked surprised when I requested tribulus. ‘Are you sure, little lady?’ he queried, ‘we mostly sell that to men.’ ‘Yes,’ I insisted. ‘Grab me some creatine and glutamine while you’re at it.’ ‘Oh, just getting into training, are you?’ he asked with what I thought was a condescending sneer. I was not impressed, and almost ripped off my jacket to brandish my guns. The image of my biceps in the header of this blog site is dated, my friends, as I am more ripped now. Instead, I stripped down to the red party dress I just happened to be wearing, and made the gesture pictured below, shouting: ‘My professional diet coach told me to buy these supplements, and I am damned well going to buy them.’ He then piled 9 bottles onto the counter and charged me $180.00.
When I got home and dutifully started washing the pills down with lemon water, I realized why the clerk-who-underestimated-me might have questioned my purchases. The jar of tribulus was made from standardized puncture vine, claiming to ‘help increase sexual desire in men.’ Oh my. Would it make my already sizeable cock even bigger? The short answer was yes. It has caused me to attack my partner on a daily basis, and he is frankly afraid to come home at night. Though he is exhausted, I am not tired because tribulus improves recovery time, providing a natural source that raises testosterone levels and thus the ability to gain lean muscle mass. Apparently, it also increases fertility. So get ready for me to pop out a jacked little baby soon! Not!
I am also taking Branched Chain Amino Acids (BCAA), which are metabolized in the muscle, not the liver, to provide energy and build new proteins. Conjugated Linoleic Acid (CLA) is a naturally occuring free fatty acid that helps to burn fat. Seems counter-intuitive, but I do not doubt; I simply obey my cell phone alarm and take it throughout the day. A jar of Essential Fatty Acids (EFA) provides energy, reduces water retention, and regulates mood. So far. Well, maybe it doesn’t, for I am increasingly easy to annoy. Message to the squirrel-headed bastard in line behind me at the grocery store: ‘If you hit my legs with your shopping cart one more time, I will pretend that this organic squash is a bat and that your stupid face is a t-ball.’ P.S. ‘Why do you need a cart for four chocolate bars?’ Audible sigh…and I’m back to the subject at hand: glutamine is another fatty acid that promotes glycogen resynthesis and is important for protein metabolism. I take it both before and after my workouts, which deplete my glycogen stores. I then swallow little yellow capsules full of creatine, designed, according to the bottle, for ‘muscle mass, muscle energy, muscle strength.’ The subtext notes that ‘creatine has the awesome effect of super-hydrating muscle cells with water. It enhances muscles’ growth too—making muscle fibres bigger and stronger.’ Add to that two multivitamins, vitamin C, B complex, calcium, a daily dose of cranberry for my kidneys, and vitamin D to stave off breast cancer. There are a few other elliptical shapes to consume, including two filled with zinc and magnesium aspartate (ZMA), a scientifically designed mineral formula that ‘may significantly raise anabolic hormone levels and muscle strength in trained athletes.’ It too augments testosterone, which sheds even more light on my recent behaviour and threatening gestures. In short, I am extra strong and healthy, not to mention well dressed, but will my poor partner survive?
I think this shit is working and I have yet to start taking those crazy fat burners that make your hands shake and hips sweat. I have, however, begun receiving positive commentary at the gym, often from total strangers. Yesterday in the locker room, a young woman asked me for nutrition advice. I was eating chicken from a snap-top plastic container, and nodded toward it while grunting. She turned out to be a vegetarian, so I encouraged her to consume fake meat like I used to (not so long ago), ordering her to step away from the pasta buffet. That goes for all of you! Did I mention that tribulus also increases aggression? Got a problem with that? Well, get in line bitches. Just get in line. … But don’t even fucking consider nudging me with that cart.