I've hit the 90-day milestone on Carnivore. In another timeline, this would be a festive day to celebrate the success of the first campaign contributing toward achieving a year-long goal. But, I feel...defeated when I really should feel like I'm winning.

I experience these lyrics from Shinedown's Burning Bright:

There's nothing ever wrong,
But nothing's ever right
Such a cruel contradiction
I know I crossed the line,
It's not easy to define
I'm born to indecision
There's always something new,
Some path I'm supposed to choose
With no particular rhyme or reason

Yes, there's nothing wrong, but there's nothing quite right, either. A large part of my Carnivore experience was one that came off as clockwork for morning and lunch while attuned to my appetite. It was just beef, bacon and water. Today, it's the aforementioned along with salt; coffee and butter; and eggs whenever I want.

I guess if I would put my finger on my despondency is simply my inability to workout due to one injury after another this year. Right now, every step I take is a sharp pain in my left heel from what I suspect is from my failed attempt to push a vehicle from the snow—briefly, I thought I could call forth the power of my Viking and Neanderthal forebearers, but instead, I received a take-home gift of another ding.

See, this new thing I've got I can massage the pain up from heel into my calf. Turning 43 this summer, I'm even more impressed by Tom Brady's 43 with both a Super Bowl ring and his deft avoidance of chronic inflammation. All I got to say is sign me up for some of that pliability!