So, If I learned anything from running the 25K at Stanky Creek, it was this…..SOMETHING HAS TO GIVE. I simply cannot reach my goal of running a 50-mile ultra marathon while eating the same poor diet that I have been eating. Intellectually, I know this, and have known this. I have talked to most anyone who will pretend to listen about this, but I remain vigilant on my training, and believe that I can outwork a poor diet. I believe this because I want to believe it. I believe it because it is convenient. I believe it because if there is a shortcut, or an easy button, than I am all about it. I want an easy button, but I want one that is not so hard to press. I also want one that is not very heavy. I want my easy button lightweight and compact, so it will fit in my pocket. I want to be able to press my easy button without having to reach into my pocket, because that requires effort. Honestly, I think my easy button needs to be voice activated, so as I do not have to expel the energy of not only finding my button, but also pressing it. My point is, that I am lazy and I want convenience. Removing my intellect from the equation has seemed to produce the best outcomes, so this is what I had to do. I stopped relying on what I think, and started asking the people around me who have the energy, stamina, and physical properties that I am looking for. What I heard was an overwhelming acceptance for something called the WHOLE30 Program. It seems that quite a few of my friends are familiar with this, and speak very highly of it as a tool for getting the ball going in the right direction. So, I have begun the program and I am currently on DAY 13!

This is what I have come to know about the WHOLE30:

The WHOLE30 is comparable to a  Boa Constrictor, which slowly wraps itself around your head and your life, and sucks away every bit of freedom, energy, and happiness that is present. It was originally created during WWII to be used as a torture method, but they found that it was too fu*king time consuming to google whether or not various foods were WHOLE30 “compliant” or not. It was deemed “cruel and unusual” in the late 1950’s and has remained underground until recently. It is similar to water boarding for your taste buds, only instead of depriving you of oxygen, it deprives you of all the good sh*t to eat. I have had victims of WHOLE30 send me sympathy messages similar to what one receives after losing a family member; because they know the pain and anguish that I am going through. I received a message that could have been read as my eulogy, as if I had already gone towards the light.I have not looked at anything in the past 13 days that did not contain bread, cheese, or sugar. I actually woke up in the middle of the night, and with the door open, I began to point my finger and curse at my refrigerator. I was eating a tomato like an apple. I was butt ass naked, and I was pointing at my refrigerator, an inanimate object, and putting it down for its inadequacies and lack of pizza. I was telling my refrigerator that it has always been sh*tty and that I was going to replace it with a better one after the 30 days was over, with one that would be there for me, and provide good tasting food when I was hungry. Homicidal thoughts have increased by 500%. It seems that the only way of surviving this would be to actually kill someone, and be locked in solitary confinement. The problem is that there are SO many people that I would like to kill right now, and I do not know where to start. Every time that I feel like I am ready to commit murder, and I go to get the knife, I see my pizza cutter and wind up sobbing on the kitchen floor. By the time this is over, I need another nap, and usually wake up dry hunching the pantry. On about days 8 and 9, I took a cumulative total of 5 naps, and that is counting my last nap, which started at 7pm and rolled over into a 13 hour sleep marathon, so technically 4.

I cannot see how anyone could do this alone. The primary reason that I have made it this far is because my girlfriend, Amanda, has volunteered to do it with me. She is totally badass and has very little room for improvement, but is competitive as hell, and always looking for a challenge. You can bet that if I am going to do something that I do not want to do, there will be one of two things at the end of it….a pizza, or a girl. In this case there is certainly no pizza, so here we are. Amanda has been a TOTAL CHAMP. Because of her competitive nature, I don’t have to worry about her bailing out on me. I can’t imagine her not finishing really much of anything that she puts her mind to. You gotta love hard nosed women. We have spent virtually every free moment that we have been together either at the grocery, in the kitchen, eating, talking about eating, or taking naps. The rest of the time is spent bi*ching about wanting to nap, or eat, or just the Whole30 in general. Our primary form of communication is texting about what other people are eating around us, or what we would eat if we could.

HOWEVER, there is light at the end of the tunnel. All bi*ching aside, there are some truly remarkable things going on. One of the things happening is that it is all happening EXACTLY as I was told it would happen. The energy is creeping up, my thoughts are becoming more clear, my belt is already loosening, food is keeping me fuller longer, and the cravings are starting to subside. I am finding my outlook to be pretty positive, not that you would read that in this blog. I am cautiously optimistic that I will continue down this course.

Mark Fortune, Amanda Drogmiller and myself went for, what was supposed to be, a 12 mile trail run along the Tour de Wolf at Shelby Farms this weekend. Mark and Amanda turned it into 13.5, because they are mean and hateful people, who have absolutely no regard for Beefcake and his overall well-being. I had already been warned that with the alteration of my diet, it could be a struggle. At the beginning of the run, I am not sure that I have ever felt so good while running. It seemed pretty effortless and was actually enjoying conversation. My knees and joints did not ache as much as they usually do, but it was still worthy of some bi*ching, for good measure. Aside from my tits catching on fire, like literally catching fu*king fire, and a ranger putting them out with an extinguisher, who then handed me a pamphlet about forest fires caused by fata*ses chaffing, everything was going remarkably well. It went well, right up to the point where it didn’t….and when it didn’t…it didn’t. Suddenly, I was stopped in my tracks. I was dizzy, nauseous, and tired. I have never been so hungry and nauseous at the same time. Mark was able to explain, in great detail, EVERYTHING that was going on with me, yet was unable to produce a cheeseburger and fries. It was like a bad movie, where the villain makes someone drink poison and then tells him how he is going to die, as he is dying. In case you are wondering, while dying, it is of infinitely zero value to know exactly what is going on during your death. I had to walk for about 1.5 miles, before finding out that we had an additional1.5 miles to go. I was pissed. I blamed them both for not only my current situation, but also everything that has ever gone wrong in my life. While Amanda happily bounced her happy, energetic a*ss ahead to get me some almonds and a water, so that I might possibly make it outta there without a fu*king medivac helicopter, I spent some time alone in the woods with Mark. He has never looked so appetizing, a literal cartoon where the coyote sees the roadrunner as a roast beef sandwich. My only dilemma was trying only to decide whether to lethally latch on to the back of Mark’s neck, dragging him to the ground as a meal, or to just take as big of a bite as I could from his bronzed hamstring. Either way, Mark’s time on earth was extremely limited.

****Below is some footage of what I planned to do to Mark at Mile-13:

Fortunately for both of us, we popped out near our cars and were able to order the WHOLE30 compliant meal that Mark had been raving about for 3 hours, only to find out that they were no longer serving it. Mark, Amanda, and the rest of the Panera Bread Company staff had set me up. They were all intentionally trying to make my life miserable and I hated them all. I actually contemplated violence, but I did not have the energy to grab the girl’s throat behind the counter, or the strength to hold on. So, we all lived to fight another day. As I do most every Sunday, I returned home with the firm resolve to never run again. After further contemplation, I see that I might possibly be overreacting. Expecting to be nearly cripple from the run, today I actually feel really good. I am attributingmy overall lack of soreness to my nutrition. We will see. A lot of things are changing, and I hope that my diet continues to be one of them. I am always a slice of pizza away from a complete disaster, so wish me luck. My track record is poor….at best, but I am, however, Hopeful.

Peace, Love, and all things Beef related


Wilson Horrell