Officially sponsored by sweet potatoes, bananas, and Swedish fish.

Yesterday, two different people spontaneously asked me whether I eat meat. I found the question amusing (first, because I’ll eat anything that’s not nailed down; second, because I think it would be pretty tough to effectively support this level of athletic activity without animal protein). But it also made me suspect that I’m overdue to share a nutritional update, because (as this training cycle is reminding me!) that particular learning curve never truly stops. Pushing ourselves into new territory with regard to our physical goals means that the nutritional habits supporting those goals have to evolve as well.

Nutrition is WILDLY variable — from person to person, from sport to sport, even from week to week for women — and I would never claim to have it all figured out. But I can claim to have taken the time to learn and experiment on myself. I usually do my best not to post exact numbers as they relate to bodyweight or macros or calories — not out of embarrassment, but simply because we’re all so different that comparisons of that nature are seldom ‘useful’. However, assumptions are not helpful either — and I know there were many points along this road where it would have been reassuring for me to hear the hard data behind someone else’s experience. So, in the interest of transparency (and #showyourwork!), I’ll break my own rule and share some specifics this time.

The past 2.5 years have contained several nutritional ‘phases’ for me, each of which has naturally built on the previous in terms of slowly internalizing the distinctions between sustainable habits versus temporary tools. So this post could, and probably should, be divided into multiple parts. But this is me we’re talking about, and I never feel like I’ve told a story properly without providing every scrap of context. (We’ve all experienced “the meeting that should have been an email”? Well, I am forever “the email that should have been a meeting.”) So… go ahead and pour that second cup of coffee.

Phase one of my personal nutritional journey involved learning how to manipulate macros for fat loss and subsequent weight maintenance. That’s a fairly common story, and I won’t rehash all the details here; however, for anyone really interested in poring through the archives, I did post quite a bit about the process as it was happening: my early nutritional adventures in 2017, followed by my second (slightly ill-advised) cut, and then the point where I finally started to get smart in mid-2018. But, in summary, I mastered that set of tools relatively well across a roughly 15-month timespan, going from 173# to 133# and eventually finding a ‘happy’ maintenance size of 140# and 17% body fat.

Phase two was an extension of the first — learning how to maintain weight against undesired loss. That definitely wasn’t a situation I’d ever been in before, but, ironically, it was the training cycle leading to the 2018 NYC Marathon that taught me the most about how to “eat for recovery.” I had not planned to run that marathon; indeed, I had entered the lottery on a passing whim, had promptly forgotten it entirely (that out-of-the-blue Amex charge came as an “oh-shit” moment…), and was rather resentful of the fact that my spontaneous entry was unexpectedly accepted at precisely the time when I was finished cutting, finished with the Open, and chomping at the bit to get back to ‘normal’ CrossFit. However, endurance work has such a direct correlation to fueling — more mileage equals more required calories — that it was actually a very reassuring framework within which to learn some of these nutritional lessons. Week after week, my body consistently showed me that it knew what it needed — and, with no small degree of wonderment, I began to trust it. I continued to loosely utilize the scientific principles I’d learned from RP, but my macro tracking shifted from ‘active’ (deliberately aiming for a set of numbers) to almost entirely ‘passive’ (eating intuitively, tracking later). I was also highly motivated to avoid muscle loss, so, in contrast to my cutting days, I was watching the scale to ward against a decline, meaning I became more comfortable erring on the side of MORE food, rather than less.

By the end of that training block, I had gained a fairly stunning amount of insight into the physical, mental, emotional, and nutritional aspects of hard, focused training. The post I wrote nine days before the race reflects the tremendous maturation I underwent during that cycle. Although I nicknamed it my ‘accidental marathon’, it was ultimately one of the most valuable experiences I could possibly have had — because, ironically, without that endurance training experience, I would have likely struggled much more to successfully fuel my strength training.

Which brings me to phase three: understanding how to manipulate macros for weight (muscle) gain — and learning to mentally accept that process. Prior to switching coaches, I’d been easily maintaining 140# for over a year. However, for me, that was a very ‘light’ size — great for running marathons and learning gymnastics fundamentals (and fitting into my petite younger sister’s jeans!) — but not ideal for being STRONG. I’d been told more than once that I was eventually going to need to allow some weight gain in order to become more optimally functional within the sport, and although I wasn’t quite ready to actively AIM to see the scale go up, when I started with my new coach in April 2019, I did finally feel mentally prepared to ‘allow’ that process.

So I shoved the scale under the sink… and didn’t look at it for six months. I stuck to my previously internalized habits — 150+grams of protein per day, increased carbs around workouts, intrashake during training, casein every night — but mostly, I simply ‘ate to recover’. I sought a feeling, not a number — because, thanks to the endurance cycle, I understood what recovery ‘felt like’ physically, and had already undergone the associated mental learning curve with regard to the amount of food required.

In hindsight, I can see what a tremendous advantage that was. There were definitely many anxious moments (the fit of my clothes changed a lot; there were times when gymnastics felt disproportionately tough; I was no longer confident running without a shirt). But I focused on how much more easily the barbell was moving. I savored how incredibly well-recovered I felt — seldom sore or even tired. I secretly enjoyed having a butt for the first time in my life. Above all, I marveled at how much more COMFORTABLE I unexpectedly felt inside a slightly sturdier body. And after five months, when I did finally reach a point of legitimate unease, it took just a four-week ‘intuitive cut’ (no scale) to recapture that ‘sweet spot’ of relaxed confidence.

In all, the five months of massing + four weeks of cutting yielded a 14# gain, which DEXA scan said consisted of more than TEN pounds of LEAN tissue (!), with only an accompanying 1% increase in body fat (from 17% to 18%). I’m the first to admit that this definitely isn’t a typical result; the ratio I’ve heard most often is that women typically net roughly 2-3# of muscle for every 10# of total weight gain. However, it also doesn’t mean I’m a metabolic freak. If I had to guess, contributing factors (aside from phenomenal strength-focused programming, obviously!) were probably as follows:

• this was my first-ever mass (“newbie gains” are always the biggest)

• I spent much of my adult life at a heavier size (my body wasn’t reluctant to head back that way)

• I don’t use any kind of hormonal birth control (mixed evidence on whether this impacts muscle gain)

• I started creatine (which prompts a bit of water holding, which DEXA will read as lean tissue).

In other words, future cycles like this will almost certainly not have nearly as dramatic of an effect. However, they also don’t NEED to. The pendulum swing is narrowing — honing in on the sweet spot where I can be most optimally functional across ALL ‘time and modal domains’. I posted recently about how I finally feel like I’m moving past the concept of numerical bodyweight — because I’m strong enough inside my body now to let it be whatever size it needs to be in order to accomplish my goals. There will come a day when I’ll want to cut again — but when that happens, that decision won’t be made because of an arbitrary measurement; it’ll be because I don’t feel quite right ‘inside myself’ in terms of how I move and perform.

For the moment, I’m reassured that I have the tools to exert change when it’s time to do so — as well as by the knowledge that this process is maximizing my potential in terms of the ‘long game’ of my life. I may be fitter than I’ve ever been, but I’m also a master’s athlete; I am not 20. My current biochemistry has a finite timeline; hormonally, my bone-building ability has already peaked. I feel very lucky to have the chance to pile on some raw strength at age nearly-36 — because I will never again have MORE muscle-building ability — or more recoverability — than I do right now.

…Which brings us to phase four — the present day.

Metaphorically speaking, those first three nutritional phases are all tied up with nice little bows; this current one isn’t. On some level, I think I’d been lulled into thinking I was ‘done’; I’m very comfortable eating intuitively, have reversed my calories up to an impressively high level, and naïvely assumed that my instincts would continue to suffice from here on out. But this post-Open strength cycle has been on a whole new level in terms of volume, and the functional evidence — low mood, disrupted sleep, ‘bonking’ during training — quickly showed me that I was missing something. We’re pushing into the zone of ‘functionally overreaching’, and (it turns out) that requires an increased level of nutritional awareness on my part.

This learning curve is ongoing. I don’t know what the ‘right answers’ are (not for myself and definitely not for anybody else), and I may very well reread this post in six months and cringe at how much I didn’t know.

But this is what #showyourwork is all about. This is how we learn. 

So, here’s what I’ve got so far.

Lesson one: I need to eat first thing in the morning. This is something I did naturally for most of my life, then deliberately ‘trained myself out of’ during my RP cutting days, so it’s not hard to get back in the habit (indeed, it feels like a luxury — I was a little more excited than strictly necessary for my cheesetoast this morning!). This is especially important for me as an early-morning exerciser — I can’t rely on my intrashake alone to be a sufficient jump-start — but even on rest days, I’ve noticed that getting the first meal in EARLY seems to make my hunger signals more prominent/reliable for the rest of the day.

Lesson two: not all carbs and sugars are created equal. My usual intrashake (tart cherry + orange juice + vanilla whey) has served me really well until now, but it turns out “I didn’t know what I didn’t know.” Ridiculous as it sounds, I discovered by accident that Swedish fish (sucrose) make me feel a thousand times better during training — and when I checked the literature, sure enough, fructose alone isn’t nearly as effective as sucrose. (Planning to explore dextrose next.)

Lesson three: a major light bulb from this past week was that the panicky meltdowns that I occasionally experience during training are apparently caused by... subclinical HYPOGLYCEMIA. I feel supremely stupid for not putting this together until now, both as a healthcare provider and because this is something that’s happened to me since my very earliest days of CrossFit. It was never terribly frequent and was always in the metcon, so I’d always assumed it was somehow related to the adrenaline. But this cycle’s sessions take more time — and that longer duration has given me the ‘opportunity’ to hit that same inexplicable panic during relatively casual accessory work, which seemed odd. I’m never “hungry” when it happens, just shaky and “upset,” so it had never previously occurred to me to try eating — but once I did, I was magically back to normal almost instantly. Game-changer, not least because I should NOT be hitting this point to begin with. Identifying the problem means I’ve probably been under-fueling my sessions for years (#FACEPALM), but also means I can likely adjust my nutrient timing to eliminate the issue altogether.

Lesson four: I have a new respect for anyone who is attempting to train at this level and simultaneously hold down a full-time job. Stress and distraction make it much more difficult to stay in touch with your body’s signals. I am incredibly fortunate to have a job that requires fewer hours than almost anyone else I know in the medical field, and yet I’ve become very aware in recent weeks of how often I unconsciously ignore my own needs because I’m too busy prioritizing someone else’s. There were two occasions during this cycle where I had 4-5 really rough days in a row — low mood, not sleeping well, more anxiety around training, gym movements feeling weirdly ‘off’ — and both times, once I finally had a ‘catch-up’ day (a period longer than 24 hours where I wasn’t at work), I promptly realized how hungry I was, responded accordingly, and felt dramatically improved by the following day. (The right half of the graphic below is a good example of this.) I definitely hadn’t ever noticed the effects of work on training to quite this extent before.

And, lesson five — the most challenging one at the moment — is the discovery that, past a certain point, those aforementioned hunger signals are not super reliable ANYWAY. This is not a problem I ever (EVER) expected to have, but right now, with this new level of training volume, I’m finding that I consistently ‘need’ (=to support sleep and mood and performance) more food than I actually WANT. I can definitely ‘feel’ it, systemically, when I’ve fallen behind, and (as below) I can also see it reflected in my heart rate variability / strain scores. But when you’re dealing with larger calorie numbers than ever before — and when you can’t quite trust your instincts — it’s hard to confidently identify what ‘behind’ is.

[LEFT]: a Wednesday (rest day) from two weeks ago, where I didn’t eat enough the day before. You can see the higher (orange) strain and the comparatively disrupted sleep (higher blue spikes even at rest). [RIGHT]: yesterday, also a Wednesday rest day. I’d had a rough-feeling few days, then ate 4000 (!) calories on Tuesday, and immediately started feeling better (note the ‘low’ blue static in the wee hours of Wednesday — that’s some resultant great sleep!).

A statement I once heard (from Dr. Mike Israetel of Renaissance Periodization) is, "There is no such thing as over-training, just under-eating." While I’m sure we could poke holes in that declaration if we tried hard enough, my experience so far has led me to believe that the general premise probably holds water. My current opinion is that, for active individuals, the calorie numbers we’ve been conditioned to call 'normal' are a starting point at best, wildly misleading at worst. So, in the interest of potentially reassuring someone else, here comes some more transparency — my intake right now is about 3500 calories on a heavy training day, 3000 on a rest day. It’s taken some trial and error to nail down those numbers, because I definitely don’t always want quite that much food from an appetite perspective — but those are consistently the thresholds that allow me to sleep through the night, feel strong in training, and stay mentally calm and optimistic. It’s surprisingly easy to fall short — intuitively, 3000 calories FEELS like enough on a heavy training day (especially if I inadvertently under-fuel the session itself) — but if I allow myself to stop there, it almost always means I then wake up hungry overnight, subsequently don’t sleep well, then struggle in the next day’s training, and ultimately need EVEN MORE food in order to catch back up. By contrast, eating sufficiently during the day leads to more restful sleep; that restorative sleep then leads to better recovery and more accurate sensing of appetite. It’s a self-perpetuating cycle in whichever direction we allow.

I’m almost finished with the fourth week of this cycle, so these patterns are becoming steadily more obvious in hindsight. However, they don’t yet correspond to my intuition ‘in the moment’ — which is challenging, to say the least. It’s tough to eat when you don’t want to, both physically and culturally (let’s be real: in this society we’re often encouraged to refrain from eating even when we ARE hungry, let alone when we aren’t)... and doing so consistently means that food is starting to feel pretty boring. Furthermore, no matter how much I remind myself that body composition is NOT the priority right now, eating this much in the absence of a clear hunger signal also means facing down a flicker of anxiety every time.

But we’re about ten days from the end of this cycle, and this week, I’ve finally reached the point of saying “fuck it.” Because, despite how ludicrous the numbers seem — from a functional standpoint, I’ve got to admit that I haven’t yet found an upper limit here. More food equals better sleep and better performance; less food (VERY clearly) yields worse sleep and worse performance. I can’t claim to understand much else right now, but that much seems clear.

So — fuck it. I’m not going to gain ten pounds in ten days (and even if I somehow did, we’ve already established that I have the tools to address that). The bigger priority here is to finish this cycle strongly. So, for now, bring on the frozen pizza, mac & cheese, and a loaf of that amazing Sara Lee ‘Artisan’ brioche. Because I’m not going to let ‘food fatigue’ be the reason that I don’t PR my clean next week.

Almost every aspect of this athletic journey is a balancing act of learning when to trust your mind versus when to trust your body. Turns out nutrition is no different. I’m learning that energy deficits come in many guises — and that disrupted sleep, low mood, and tears/panic during training are my body’s ways of telling me it needs more food. And although this cycle might have gone better if I’d been a little quicker on the uptake — well, “show your work,” right? I’ve definitely had more than my share of ‘bad’ days these past couple of weeks — but I’m also clearly figuring it out. Sleep is slowly getting more consistent. Strain scores are gradually dropping. Training is feeling much stronger (today felt great from start to finish — #poweredbyswedishfish!). And I’ve somehow even managed not to get sick (knock on wood!). My resting heart rate is still way too high, but even that is finally starting to self-correct a little — and hey, I can’t fix everything at once.

So much of the ‘work’ we do as athletes isn’t with barbells or rings; it’s between our ears. Our self-awareness is one of our greatest assets — and that requires ‘strengthening’ just as much as any physical muscle. I’ll undoubtedly handle FUTURE heavy cycles much better due to experiencing these things NOW — and that’s the whole point.