Goodbye to New York Style Cheesecake
I am a cheesecake. Or rather, I have become one. Of course, I'm not actually a cheesecake, but my organ systems are now thoroughly suffused in cheesecake. For the last 6 weeks, I have been on what can only be labeled a 'cheesecake diet.' Let me describe it in further detail, for those interested in trying it themselves (don't). Before I do, I will note that my body weight has remained stably at ~190# despite a change in my overall intake from 'healthy' to 'dessert-based.' At 6'1", this amounts to a body mass index (BMI) of 25.2, shyly breeching into the 'overweight' category. I'm slighly uncertain about this designation. Should I feel insecure? Of course, BMI does not distinguish lean from fat mass, but let's stay on task. Here's the diet:
1. Morning
4. Before bed: Fun begins
The diet and lifestyle combination thus outlined should not be undertaken, and my (poor) excuse for it has been ongoing right knee issues - mild lateral meniscus pain that went away, followed by a touch of patellofemoral pain. I chose not to run, and on starting up again a few days ago, my legs felt heavy and thick like cheesecake. The doughy heart protested, beating wildly at 190 per minute while I maintained a pedestrian easy pace of 9 min/mile. A simple jog, previously a respite from life's dissatisfactions, became a source of dissatisfaction itself.
Now my concerns have increased to include poor fitness. I went to the track the other day to do 20 100 meter strides (not speedy, just smooth and steady), just to rekindle the neuromuscular coordination of proper running form, and again, my cheesecake legs staggered and jaunced during every rep with none of their prior smoothness. I thought about every stride and its component parts - stance phase, swing phase - and considering these made the motions more erratic. The more I thought, the more unruly it seemed. The reps weren't physically taxing, given the light paces involved (15-17s / 100), but the hyper-awareness and doubt surrounding each movement disrupted the overall flow of the workout. Normally, it should be a flowing forward motion like a great egret gliding low over water looking for fish. In this case, much of my energy was wasted on excess 'vertical oscillation.' I bobbed up and down like a ravenous pigeon following an old lady's breadcrumbs in Washington Square Park. Perhaps it's the shoes, I wondered. This is a new pair of shoes - the Saucony Kinvara 9 - that I still haven't quite synced up with. I had bought the Kinvaras after reading many positive reviews on sites like runrepeat.com, a trusty source on these matters. I felt betrayed. How could RunRepeat give these a 92 score, among the very best of the entire catalog? If RunRepeat can no longer be trusted, what and who else will let me down?
STOP.
None of this has to do with cheesecake, or chocolate, or running form, or running shoe websites. Below the surface of cheesecake and running lies the grumbling, ever-sated monster of fear. I've gotten the residency position, and I'll be moving soon. Euphoria of returning to beloved profession mixes with uncertainty about the future. There is much fight ahead, and I do not possess infinite resources. I have limited time left on this planet; maybe 50 or 60 years, if all goes well. I have no children, though I think I'd be a great father. I want at least 2 - a boy and a girl - but I lack the stability and finances to afford the unique privilege of parenthood.
I am mortal, had been wounded, and, now that my life and mana are restored (Diablo), I feel the weight of humanity.
(Blurry gray fuzz takes me back to the Soviet Union, where an uncle of mine used to look upon my innocent 6-year-old physiognomy and say: "You have the travails of all the Jewish people written upon your face, the mask of tragedy." Then he would smile endearingly and get me to cheer up. He lives in Israel now.)
As new life beckons ahead, I know exactly what I must do, so I bid goodbye to New York Style cheesecake with dark chocolate squares.
No, this isn't about cheesecake at all. Not at all.
1. Morning
- Coffee (!) with milk and 2 sugars, 16-24 ounces; total caffeine content ~250mg
- Dannon Greek Yogurt * 1 (80 kcal)
- Small piece of chicken
- Small salad, no dressing
- Possible small coffee, ~100-150mg caffeine
4. Before bed: Fun begins
- 3-5 (average 4) slices of Carmine's New York Style Cheesecake, 330 kcal per slice
- 1 full Ghirardelli Dark Chocolate Hazelnut (or similar) bar, 600 kcal
- Sleep within 30 minutes of ingestion
The diet and lifestyle combination thus outlined should not be undertaken, and my (poor) excuse for it has been ongoing right knee issues - mild lateral meniscus pain that went away, followed by a touch of patellofemoral pain. I chose not to run, and on starting up again a few days ago, my legs felt heavy and thick like cheesecake. The doughy heart protested, beating wildly at 190 per minute while I maintained a pedestrian easy pace of 9 min/mile. A simple jog, previously a respite from life's dissatisfactions, became a source of dissatisfaction itself.
Now my concerns have increased to include poor fitness. I went to the track the other day to do 20 100 meter strides (not speedy, just smooth and steady), just to rekindle the neuromuscular coordination of proper running form, and again, my cheesecake legs staggered and jaunced during every rep with none of their prior smoothness. I thought about every stride and its component parts - stance phase, swing phase - and considering these made the motions more erratic. The more I thought, the more unruly it seemed. The reps weren't physically taxing, given the light paces involved (15-17s / 100), but the hyper-awareness and doubt surrounding each movement disrupted the overall flow of the workout. Normally, it should be a flowing forward motion like a great egret gliding low over water looking for fish. In this case, much of my energy was wasted on excess 'vertical oscillation.' I bobbed up and down like a ravenous pigeon following an old lady's breadcrumbs in Washington Square Park. Perhaps it's the shoes, I wondered. This is a new pair of shoes - the Saucony Kinvara 9 - that I still haven't quite synced up with. I had bought the Kinvaras after reading many positive reviews on sites like runrepeat.com, a trusty source on these matters. I felt betrayed. How could RunRepeat give these a 92 score, among the very best of the entire catalog? If RunRepeat can no longer be trusted, what and who else will let me down?
STOP.
None of this has to do with cheesecake, or chocolate, or running form, or running shoe websites. Below the surface of cheesecake and running lies the grumbling, ever-sated monster of fear. I've gotten the residency position, and I'll be moving soon. Euphoria of returning to beloved profession mixes with uncertainty about the future. There is much fight ahead, and I do not possess infinite resources. I have limited time left on this planet; maybe 50 or 60 years, if all goes well. I have no children, though I think I'd be a great father. I want at least 2 - a boy and a girl - but I lack the stability and finances to afford the unique privilege of parenthood.
I am mortal, had been wounded, and, now that my life and mana are restored (Diablo), I feel the weight of humanity.
(Blurry gray fuzz takes me back to the Soviet Union, where an uncle of mine used to look upon my innocent 6-year-old physiognomy and say: "You have the travails of all the Jewish people written upon your face, the mask of tragedy." Then he would smile endearingly and get me to cheer up. He lives in Israel now.)
As new life beckons ahead, I know exactly what I must do, so I bid goodbye to New York Style cheesecake with dark chocolate squares.
No, this isn't about cheesecake at all. Not at all.
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