Category Archives: June 2013

Hot-Sauce Chicken with Oatmeal and Broccoli with Cottage Cheese

At 10 am Wednesday, Chris ate this:


That is stinky fajita chicken doused with Frank’s hot sauce with a side of giant-bowl-of-cinnamon-and-Equal-oatmeal-with-blueberries.

This meal was obnoxious for three reasons:

1) The Stench. Remember on April Fool’s Day when Google pretended to have a new App that would let you smell through your computer?  That would be so useful right now.  Since it doesn’t exist, I’ll have to explain the smell of stinky fajita chicken doused with Frank’s hot sauce to you with my skills of prose:  it smells like butt.  Intense butt.  And our apartment is 900 square feet so when the butt chicken starts to smell, there’s no escaping.

2) The Timing.  It was 10 am in the morning.  Who eats chicken with hot sauce at 10 am in the morning?  (I know, I know, bodybuilders eat stinky chicken with hot sauce at 10 am in the morning.  This is why this blog has to exist; normal people don’t do this).

3) The Jealously. Despite smelling disgusting, this meal represents a key jealously I have of Chris which is that, when he’s dieting, he still gets to eat so much food!  During his last diet, when we did the scientific case study on him, his lowest caloric intake was around 2,500 calories.  LOWEST.  The stupid man went from 14.8% to 4.5% body fat and never consumed less than 2,500 calories!  I think I speak for all smaller statured women out there when I say, “Jerk.”

“So, Lindy, stinky butt chicken with hot sauce and oatmeal is a pretty nasty sounding meal, but is there anything else Chris eats that you find gross?” you ask.

Heck yes! Check this out:


That is an entire bag of microwaved broccoli.  I’ve always feared scurvy, so I totally support the vegetable eating.  What makes me want to hurl on the carpet though is what he eats with the broccoli:  a huge bowl of cottage cheese.  He doesn’t actually mix the broccoli and cottage cheese but just eating those two in the same temporal vicinity is just, well, not my bowl of cottage cheese brocolli.  (That’s an expression that’s going to catch on, you wait.)


Oh yeah, chunky and watery and weighed to the gram, bring it on

Did I mention cottage cheese and broccoli is his before bed meal?  Because he has a “before bed” meal.  Doesn’t everyone?

At least the cottage cheese doesn’t smell…

If you haven’t already left to go vomit, or, if you’re a bodybuilder, to excitedly go prepare your own cottage cheese / brocolli / hot sauce butt chicken with oatmeal combo, I want to end with a few shout-outs to some other blogs that I like:

1) Hilarious Blog theoretically on motherhood but you’ll still love it even if you are totally against children (and I’ve been friends with the author since 2nd grade and she’s awesome so go read it now).

2) New Informative Blog on why women need to get out there, wear wrestling shoes in the gym, and not listen when their fiances insult their squats; well, that’s what I took from it I guess… her tagline is “The female guide to conquering the weight room.”  Good stuff.

3) Another Blog for some good nutrition and exercise reading.  I recommend gawking at the picture of the peanut butter chocolate chip thing in the bowl – amazing (and it’s the perfect mental antidote to all the nasty food pictures I posted here).

No matter what Chris says, I’m good at squatting. So there.

I just got home from the gym.  I was kind of bummed because this elbow-mildly-painful thing that means I need to stop doing any exercises that stress my elbow was happening again and I had to limit my workout.  I had done 9 sets of squats though so I still felt like the workout was successful and I was feeling admirably (yes, I admire myself) positive about the situation.  I figured, OK, the elbow can recover; I’ll take a week off from any upper body work and it won’t be a big deal;  I had a great squat workout today so I’ll just focus on squatting a lot so I still feel like I’m having good workouts and I’ll be fine.

And then I talked to Chris.  Our conversation went roughly as follows:

Me (sadly, yet admirably positive):  My right elbow is bothering me.

Chris (consolingly):  I’m sorry.  That stinks.

Me (admirably positive):  It’s OK.  I decided to just lay off the upper-body work and focus on squatting for a while.

Chris (emotionless):  Your squats look awful.

Me (outraged):  What?!

Chris (sensing danger):  I’m not saying your squats look bad, I mean, they don’t look bad, they’re not bad, I’m just saying you’ve been bouncing a lot at the bottom and they look bad.

Me (aghast):  What?!  What am I doing?

Chris (scared now but intent on explaining):  No, your squats aren’t bad, I can’t explain what I’m seeing, I just, well, I’m surprised your knees aren’t bothering you.

Me (still aghast):  What?!

Chris (still fearful but intent):  I can’t explain it.  I’ll have to video tape you.  Just know that your squats don’t look right right now.  I’ll video tape you next time you squat OK?  Then you can figure out what I’m saying.

End of conversation.

So basically, the consolation I had, the thing that was going to make it OK that my stupid elbow is taking vacation days, the thing allowing me to act so admirably positive, looks terrible right now but can’t actually be explained to me and it’s a miracle I’m not injured.

The poor man didn’t realize what he’d done.

And that’s one of the (in retrospect only) most humorous parts of any man/woman relationship.

I truly believe that Chris had only good intentions in saying what he said.  If I was going to start squatting more; he wanted to make sure I knew that I should consider some form tweaks so I don’t hurt myself.  While I heard him cruelly yanking away the one thing that was going to make my elbow being hurt OK, he heard himself being helpful and kind.

We ended the conversation with me bluffing, “So, I shouldn’t squat?” and him assuring me that we would analyze my squat via video tape the next time I workout.

with bear

See? We still love each other even if one of us criticizes the other one’s squatting.  I wouldn’t fib in front of the bear overlord.

So the good stuff in this post is over now, but, because I have an ego and my identity as a good squatter* is something close to my heart, I have to defend what I think he’s seeing in my squats.  Unfortunately, unlike Chris, I do not set up a camera on a stool in front of the squat rack before every set, so I have no record of what my recent squats look like, but I know they look nothing like my heavy powerlifting squats such as seen in the video below from a few years ago.

My current squats are a bit deeper and with much lighter weight.  Lighter weight changes the way the bar moves me.  I think the “bouncyness” he sees may be because the weight is light enough that I can easily rebound out of the hole and he’s used to seeing me struggle.

So I’m still a good squatter.  However, I am not a stupid squatter so, next workout, I am going to video tape myself and analyze my mechanics with Chris.  It is, overall, very nice to have a fiance whose idea of a good night at home is to sit around analyzing tape of my squats.

Not done!  This is the post that never ends!

So you know, my max competition squat is 215 lbs not the 198 lbs shown in the video.  That’s just to emphasize the following point which you may have missed: I’m a good squatter.

Now the post has ended.  (Well, unless you skipped over the asterisk earlier and are reading the footnote now, but that’s your fault).

*By “squatter”, I mean “someone who performs squats for exercise” not “a person who occupies property or land to which he has no legal title” as is the real definition, as defined by




I recently discovered that Chris has been keeping his “cardio shoes” in a shoe box by the front door.  As previously discussed on this blog, Chris loves original boxes and saves all of them, but this is not the original box of these shoes:  this is a new Nike box housing old New Balance shoes.  What is going on here!?


New Balance “Cardio shoes” in a foreign original box

If he wore these shoes very infrequently perhaps the shoe box would be logical, but these are not “occasional wear” shoes for special outings. (Also, the shoe box is right next to the front door, not in a closet).  These are shoes worn regularly when he performs high-intensity intervals.

I just discovered this shoes-boxed-in-a-box-under-the-table system a few days ago and have decided not to question him about it.  Perhaps I will put a box of my own frequently-worn shoes on top of his box of frequently-worn shoes and see what happens…

On another shoe topic, a week or so ago, at the gym, I was asked if I am a wrestler.  I am not a wrestler.  I do, however, lift in men’s wrestling shoes.


My men’s wrestling shoes.  That’s right, they have zippers.

You don’t know what feeling attractive is until you wear men’s wrestling shoes with zippers.  I often wonder, while wearing them, if people think that I think that I look good in my men’s wrestling shoes with zippers.  (For the record, I do not think that I look good in my men’s wrestling shoes with zippers.  And yes, in my worldview, people constantly think about what I think about myself).  Who suggested I wear men’s wrestling shoes to the gym?  You guessed it:  Chris, who also wears men’s wrestling shoes to the gym.


Chris’s men’s wrestling shoes.  Note the lack of zippers (= not at all as cool as mine).

As a part of the group “men”, Chris’s wearing “men’s” wrestling shoes is not nearly as weird-feeling for him as wearing men’s wrestling shoes is for me, a non-men.  Also, his shoes do not have zippers.

So why do I wear them?

Because the flat soles are amazing.  If I try to squat in normal athletic shoes these days, I feel like I’m squatting with pogo sticks on my feet.  The flat soles allow me to squat with better form and to feel more stable on any free weight exercises I perform while standing.

I think the epidemic of bad squatting permeating this country could be greatly improved (not eliminated, but improved) by a change in footwear.

And finally, I’ve been wearing the zippered wrestling shoes for over 4 years now and the wrestler question was actually the first weird thing anyone has ever said to me about the shoes.  I think someone once pointed out that Chris and I have matching lifting shoes and that that was kind of funny but I was OK with that.  In fact, now that I think about it, maybe Chris and I should have more matching clothing pieces…  No time to figure out a matching outfit now though; I have to go put my own box of frequently-worn shoes on top of Chris’s box of frequently-worn shoes.

Maybe something magical happens when you do this?


I’m waiting for the magical porthole to open?



This is a code that I am adding to this post so Technorati will list my blog in it’s index:  VWCEHQ5A4K4F