There are many ways to lose weight. The common element in all of the ways is a net loss of caloric input into the system. Simple net equation, which means exercise more or eat less. Any other "rule" is just a detail or way to trick someone into eating less by "feeling fuller" or exercise more by "distracting away" from the effort. My favorite way to lose weight is go play more ultimate. I've scandalized Mom before with that suggestion. For some reason I have yet to fathom, she thinks there are people who don't lurve playing ultimate.

My mom is crazy.

Eating less, although nearly as effective as exercising more, has never exactly a favorite. Who wants to stop eating the tasty, tasty food? And if it's not tasty tasty? Then why are you eating it?

Recently, I have been eating less, though not exactly intentionally.

Four years ago, I had a strange allergic reaction to life. Every single part of me itched. My eyes itched. My nose itched. My mouth itched. My ears itched. My skin itched on my legs, my arms, my scalp. Yes, even that itched, too. In an effort to figure out the cause, and to rule out any dietary causes, I changed my diet drastically: no meat, no wheat, no dairy and no soy products.

Do you know just how hard it is to eat without eating meat, wheat, dairy or soy?

It's hard.

The outcome of the diet was the discovery I have a wheat allergy. Not celiacs, but a gluten allergy that caused stomach (chest) pains, acid reflux and whatever else I might have had. I stopped eating bread and most items with wheat in them. I didn't cut out all the wheat in my diet, just the bulk of the wheat based items. The stomach and chest pains went away and, like most pains when the source is gone, I forgot about them.

In the last few months, however, I started being a lot more cavalier about my wheat consumption. I'd go to sandwich shops for lunch (scandalous!). I'd have toast and English muffins for breakfast (shock!). I'd eat pasta (oh no!). I. Would. Have. Whey. Protein. I know, I know. That's a big one.

I should have known better, I really should have. I shouldn't have tempted fate quite the way I did.

Alas. I did.

Recently, I've started eating less than I normally would eat, not because I'm on a diet, but rather because eating hurts. I managed to eat enough wheat these last few months, coupled with bizarro stress, that eating has become painful. I can usually get about four or five bites in before I'm full. Not really full, but the sensation is much the same, a pressing feeling in my stomach indicating I'm done eating.

So I stop. I stop with 3/4 of my food still on my plate (hey! leftovers!). It's strange, mostly in that I'm not actually feeling hungry, nor am I particularly tired most of the day. I've also cut out most sugars and many sweets (oh, ice cream, how do I miss thee!), in the off chance I'll be able to fix these pains before they become too bad. I have to remind myself, however, when I walk through the bakery at the grocery store that, no, these tasty tasty chocolate cakes are not forever banished from my diet, they're just treats now, to be eaten and savored on special occasions. Such reminders prevent me from purchasing a double decker chocolate chocolate cake and downing it in the store while throwing money at the cashier on the fourth bite.

Maybe if I'm good enough now with the wheat and sugars, I won't have to go back on the no wheat, no meat, no dairy, no soy diet to fix my tummy.

Because that diet IS hard.

Brynne is lots of fun. I'm not sure she knows that. She's very passionate about topics and items of interest to her, and she inspires the rest of us. Take, for example, our team's "anonymous" psych-up buddies. Just like a Seekrit Santa, we pulled names from out of a hat for a teammate to encourage. Who drew who was supposed to be unknown, but some people need help figuring what helps fire up their teammates, so some of the buddies are known to various people. Some people opted out, and some people are overwhelmingly excited about the opportunity to inspire their teammates.

I'm one of the latter.

But I can't post until we're done psyching up for this weekend's tournament. I'm not sure if we'll continue the process through the end of the month, the results being somewhat uncertain at the moment that people want to continue, but I'm very happy that Brynne started the project. I know it's brought fun for me to the team, fun that I've thought was lacking this season. I think i may have to do it by myself all next season, it's been so much fun.

My psych-up buddy started by sending me poetry:

Hi Kitt,

Every day until regionals please expect at least one email from this
address. We begin today with three haiku and a limerick:

Kitt makes savvy cuts
Will she go in or bust long
Defense falters, rues

Kitt plays shut-down D
Think you'll get the disc today?
Try again, sucker

Every time she's in
She plays with verve, style and smarts
That Kitt has gumption

I have a sweet teammate named Kitt
Who besides her peerless wit
Brings zeal and tenacity in every capacity
She's too legit to quit

Admiringly,
Your Secret Psyche-Up Buddy (henceforth "spub")

There was a follow up email poem, hinting at who my psych-up buddy might be, but without confirmation, I'm still in the dark. Especially since Doyle made nearly the same statement just before I received the poem:

you might think this is ------------
but i am sneakier than she
and far more daring
that was a red herring

I'm excited for these emails (even if I won't be playing much at Regionals). I'll play the first two days of Saturday for sure. After that, I suspect it'll be slim pickings for me.

Fortunately, I'm good with this career turn of events. Guy is coming up to Seattle to help us with stats and taking videos of the harder competition. I also have an advanced system for taking stats. We'll get the usual stats, but also more defensive stats, as well as location based pass completion information.

Is it bad that I'm as excited about my statistics as I am about playing?

Probably.

Doyle and I went to Thai for lunch today. Normally, we don't eat Thai food for lunch on Tuesdays, as the hot hot spices tend to upset his stomach at track on Tuesday evenings. Today, he wanted Thai, so Thai we had.

Most Thai days, we order soup. We used to order chicken satay, but I've been trying to avoid meat since Andy told us about how he eats only humanely raised animals and goes vegetarian the rest of the time, and I thought it was good enough idea to try it myself. I've been getting a lot of my protein early in the morning, so soup works better than satay these days.

When we order soup together, it arrives in a large metal bowl with flames shooting out from under it. The flames keep the soup warm (hot), which is appreciated. However, after we scoop the first two bowls out of the flaming pot, the remaining soup always heats up quickly and starts to boil.

Last week, I blew out the flames, which were jumping from a small pink substance clearly created for burning in these pots. My first blow was too weak, causing the flames to move slightly in their mocking dance of light. One big blow later, and they were gone.

Doyle tried much the same today at lunch. His first blow was weak (weak sauce). It moved the flames a little bit in my direction, but not much else. Just as I bent over to blow on the soup in my spoon I was raising to my lips, Doyle blew the blow that would extinguish the flames.

Unfortunately, his aim was off.

Yes, he did, indeed, put out our soup fire.

He also sprayed me in the face, neck and hands with hot, scalding, boiling soup.

I had my eyes closed, so at least I'm not blinded by thai coconut soup or the mushrooms. Or the evil little corn spears that taste nothing like corn, but merely mock me in their corn-like shapes.

We laughed a bit about my soup shower, before I continued eating my soup. Unfortunately, I hadn't let it sufficiently cool in my bowl, and, well, one bite too fast later, I was downing a glass of water to the dawning realization I just scalded the back of my throat. I really should have just spit out that soup.

The rest of the meal was a fight to finish, or at least eat part of the way. Scalding the back of my throat caused everything to be too spicy. How in heaven's name, you might ask, does pad see yew become too spicy to eat? When you've scalded the back of your throat. Doyle suggested I try the salad to see if the rest of my meal was indeed too spicy, or if the scalding was causing problems.

When a bite of plain iceberg lettuce causes tears in your eyes from its spiciness, you've scalded the back of your throat.

October is National Breast Cancer awareness month.

Pink for October is a website movement/trend designed to raise awareness of the issue of breast cancer:

"Web sites will Go Pink during the month of October to bring attention to Breast Cancer Awareness Month, get people talking about breast cancer, and raise money for research.

But to be clear, raising money isn’t the primary purpose of this web event.

The hope is that you turn your site pink (in whatever way works for your site), go out to that World Wide Web thing (in fact you’re on it right now!) and educate yourself about the multiple issues related to Breast Cancer, then take that newfound knowledge and tell someone else what you’ve learned."

Breast cancer, or any kind of cancer really, has the potential to devastate lives in ways that only those whose lives have been touched by it can truly begin to understand. It's not an old woman's disease, as many women my age like to think it is.

Nor is it merely a woman's disease, as many men seem to think it is.

I'd be surprised if turning my site pink has any large effect on breast cancer awareness among my circle of friends. However, just as that article I carried around with me for two years before I finally had the growth along my eye checked, maybe this change will prompt one person to have a check-up that will extend his/her life for another few decades.

Maybe that person will be me.

It's fall. The air smells different. The air feels different. Sure, it's colder, but it's more than that. I've come to the conclusion fairly recently that, well, summer isn't my favorite season. Fall is.