Starting strenght and keto

2021.12.08 19:16 DeepBlue5387 Starting strenght and keto

I have recently started the starting strenght program (2 weeks) while being on keto. Ive lost enough body fat% that im now trying to prevemt muscle loss as I get rid of the last few pounds of fat.
However, ive been having problems with the program, and i have not been able to do the 5 lbs progression every workout. Am i doing something wrong, or is SS fundamentally opposed to keto and calorie deficit in some way?
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2021.12.08 19:16 ThongofSekhmet Have you ever heard the song ‘Gypsy Woman (She’s Homeless)’ by Crystal Waters?

View Poll
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2021.12.08 19:16 MadSpicy Meet Willow. She is 3 parts GSD and 1 part vampire.

Meet Willow. She is 3 parts GSD and 1 part vampire. submitted by MadSpicy to germanshepherds [link] [comments]


2021.12.08 19:16 Real-Principle1972 Tyne & Wear Metro Ride - Sunderland to Millfield | Cabin View

Tyne & Wear Metro Ride - Sunderland to Millfield | Cabin View submitted by Real-Principle1972 to AirLandSeaTransport [link] [comments]


2021.12.08 19:16 bustacell Eiffel 65 - Blue (Da Ba Dee)

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2021.12.08 19:16 LGisnotafatpig OMEGALUL GORDON

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2021.12.08 19:16 Throwawayexjw07 I have play daily and send gifts. My office job has a Pokestop and I play all day.

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2021.12.08 19:16 lynnmarie2009 Rub my belly

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2021.12.08 19:16 MemeMachine27 discord amongus jews

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2021.12.08 19:16 KiwiDuude "You sound like a crazy person on a subway"

Arin was saying some made-up word and Dan replied with that quote. I cannot for the life of me remember what that word was.
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2021.12.08 19:16 Draweverydayprobably Why do CU and TCR2 get 5-day WFH automatically, but no other department does??

Has anyone asked their management about this and got any reasoning on it?
Im not saying they dont deserve it, they work hard and their work is hard too, but just like.....Id really like to know why management decided it's okay for them but not the rest of us???
Its just more proof they could let everyone WFH but they choose not to. But WHY??
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2021.12.08 19:16 zubair107 Quran

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2021.12.08 19:16 fjksb What are these and why?

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2021.12.08 19:16 Uder72 AT-AT 6 extra yellow bricks on step 8?

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2021.12.08 19:16 subscribe-by-reddit New German Government is Pro-Encryption and Anti-Backdoors

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2021.12.08 19:16 mrcoolguy9000 Winter Bike Training

Hello,
I come from an extensive swimming background and want to get back into competitive athletics after deciding to forgo the grind of college swimming this year. I have competed in several triathlons before and enjoy doing so, but I would like to join my school's triathlon team and need to improve my cycling. My bike skills have never been on par with my swimming or running, both of which I'd still like to improve before attempting a longer race. What do those of your in cold climates do for winter training? Do you find that stationary bike training and weightlifting works for improving your speed on the bike come springtime?
If any of you have any other insights/workout tips to share, I'd love to hear that as well. Thanks!
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2021.12.08 19:16 Erutious The Night I Met Soap Sally


The snowstorm was one of epic proportions.
It closed the schools for three weeks, right up until Christmas break.
And that was when the disappearances started.
"Better not stay out too late, or Soap Sally will get you." my mom called to me as I went out the door to play with Rob and Terrel.
I rolled my eyes at her, slipping my mittens on as I grabbed my sled from beside the door, "Sure, mom. I'll be sure to watch out for Soap Sally."
That had always been mom's little attempt to scare me as a kid.
When I was younger, like four or five, mom would use it to make sure I was inside before the streetlights came on. I remember the first time she ever said it to me; the moment ingrained in my brain forever. I was heading out to play in the sandbox in my front yard, something dad had spent all day building on his day off, and she had offhandedly told me to make sure I was in before dark because Soap Sally would take me away. I had stopped, little pale and shovel in hand, and asked her who Soap Sally was.
My mother just shrugged and said it was something her mother had always said, and the two of us had used it as a kind of personal joke from then on.
"Better get the groceries in before dark," I would say to mom, "Soap Sally might get us."
"Better hurry up and take out the trash," Mom would say, "I think I hear Soup Sally prowling."
We'd done it so long, it had become normal, but I wasn't a baby anymore. I was twelve, and I knew that Soap Sally was just some boogyman that adults used to scare kids. She was no more real than the Wampus Cat, another of my mother's colorful stories, and I put it out of my mind as I ran to join the others. Terrel had told us that his brother had told him about a big hill near Baskers Pond.
"It's so steep that when you come down it, you almost fly!" he said.
So I trudged through the fresh powder, over the streets that no longer looked like streets at all, and made my way towards the edge of town. My hometown isn't very big, one of those two stoplights and a gas station kind of places you always drive through on your way to somewhere else. There were maybe twenty kids my age in town, and our whole school was probably less than your graduating class. We knew we were living in a podunk town in the Georgia hills, and most of us dreamed of getting out after high school and doing anything but staying here.
For some of us, that dream was actually realized.
For others, the cemetery was all they had to look forward to.
I met Terrel near Baskers Park, a small little picnic and play area that butted up against Baskers Pond. The pond wasn't huge, but it was a great place to swim and fish in the summertime and just enjoy yourself. Today, however, it was a winter wonderland of fresh snow and chilly winds. Terrel was bundled up to his eyebrows in a thick ski jacket, and his snow pants had little rolls in them that made him look a little like the Michelin man. He, too, was clutching a battered old sled, and when he spoke, I could still see the air puff from his mouth.
"Bout time. Wheres Rob?"
That was when we heard a loud call from up the road, and Rob came running with a banana yellow disk under his arm. He was wearing a matching ski suit and a pair of thick snow boots that seemed to be the only thing he wore that wasn't yellow. His voice cut through the sound of the wind like a foghorn, and I wondered if we were the only people in the whole town not inside right now?
It was a little bit spooky, even in the middle of the day.
"Took you long enough." Terrel said, "Are we ready to sled?"
"If this hill is half as cool as you say it is, T, then I'm ready to sled till midnight!" Rob said excitedly.
With that, we set off.
We had all seen the hill in question. Overlook crest was the place to spread your blanket on the Fourth of July to watch the fireworks, or to have a picnic, or to sit and watch the boats that went fishing out there during the warm months. It offered a great view of the water, and as we trudged up it, the hill felt about twice as steep as usual. The snow made it slippery, and the three of us were laughing and pushing as we raced to the top. Terrel won, of course. Terrel was a beefy kid, and he was harder to push down than Rob, who was mostly skin and bones.
He set his sled against the snow, and when he slid down, he really did seem to fly.
We spent the day on the hill, sledding, snowball fighting, making snowmen, and generally enjoying the day. Blizzards like these were rare, and we had been having a lot of days like this where we were free just to be kids and enjoy our childhood. Sometimes we linked up with other kids from school to have snowball fights or play games, but mostly it was just Terrel and Rob, and me, enjoying the childhood we had before it was over. We had all expected it to end when we went to Highschool, the dying place of childish things, but none of us could have guessed that it might be something childish that ended our innocence.
I didn't notice it was getting dark until the street lights came on and sent a dazzle of diamonds up from the snow.
"Oh crap," I said, "moms gonna be mad if I'm late."
"Oh, relax," Rob said, "it's not like we have school tomorrow. As long as you're home before bedtime, why would she care?"
Rob's parents were never home, leaving him in his aunts or Grandmother's care since they worked late. Terrell and I, however, had mothers and fathers who would expect us home when the street lights came on, and I could see Terrel shuffling nervously too. We were all poised at the top of the hill, prepared to race to the bottom, and when Rob saw our looks, he rolled his eyes and jumped.
"Last one to the bottom is a baby!"
We all jumped then, putting on a burst of speed as we tried to catch him.
As we came down, I began to hear a strange sound. The rumble of something rolling down the street, the jingle of an almost merry bell, and the hum of a gravelly voice. I looked around, trying to find the source of the noise, and that's when I saw her walk under a street light. It was an old woman pushing a wheelbarrow or a small cart. We were heading right for her, and Rob was turned around backward so he could laugh and mug at us.
"Rob," I shouted, "look out!"
He turned just in time to smack face-first into the cart.
We swerved to a stop, Terrel and I running down the hill the rest of the way. We could already see the old lady bending over him to inspect the prone boy, and under the glare of the street light, he looked pretty bad. There was a big gash on his forehead, and blood was leaving red streaks down his yellow ski suit. Rob was groaning when we approached, and the woman looked up at us, smiling feebly as she rose to her full height.
She was as wide as she was tall, and she was nearly six feet tall. She wore a voluminous black dress, her hair caught in a scarf of a kerchief that trapped it to her head. Her hands were liver-spotted, her fingers long and spidery as they sank back into her sleeves. The cart she was pushing seemed to be empty, and I figured she was on her way to pick something up when we bumped into her. There was a bell attached to it, and as Rob flopped back against it again, it tinkled merrily.
"Deary me!" she said, and her voice was thin and spidery, "I didn't see you there, son. Are you okay?"
We helped Rob to his feet, but he was very shaky and hardly able to stand. I was worried that maybe he had a concussion, maybe even a broken skull, and I wanted to help get him home as quickly as I could. Terrel asked the woman if we could borrow her cart, but she said she needed it later and couldn't loan it to us.
"But," she said, "I will help you back to my cottage so you can call for help. I'll make you something warm to drink while you call your parents and let them know what happened. Put him in the cart now, and you can help me push him to my house."
I was hesitant, mom was always clear on not taking rides from strangers and certainly not going into their houses, but Rob groaned and wobbled then, which made up my mind. Our town was so small, after all. We had never seen this old lady before, but what were the chances that she would want to hurt us? No one ever wanted to hurt us and, despite all the lessons about stranger danger, we had never even heard of anyone getting kidnapped.
We loaded Rob into the wagon, the bell jingling as he slid in, and pushed it back the way she had come.
As it turned out, the woman lived in the woods behind Baskers Park. The tired rumbled over the woodchips that led to her house, and Rob groaned as he was jostled in the cart. We had left our sleds behind, and we moved unburdened towards a dark little cabin at the end of the long road. It looked spooky in the night, not a candle or a light to be seen inside.
"You can push him right in the front door," she graveled out, and as we neared, something screamed at me not to go inside that house. Common sense seemed to have reasserted itself, and when I paused on the steps to the front porch, the old woman and Terrel barely noticed. As the door came open, I could smell something like wax melting, the warm aromatic smell of tallow. There were floral smells as well and something akin to the cooking of bacon fat. There was another smell, though, something that prickled the hairs on the back of my neck. A coppery smell, a wet smell, and when I took a step back, the old woman seemed to notice that I hadn't come inside.
She turned in the doorway, and we made eye contact for a few seconds before she asked why I wasn't coming in?
"I just remembered that I," I thought of something anything, and landed on a flimsy lie, "my dad was coming to pick us up. If he comes to the park and we're gone, then he'll worry. So I probably need to…."
I had turned to go back down the cedar path, but suddenly her hand was around my wrist.
I felt my breath catch as I looked down at those long, spindly fingers. The bones creaked beneath the skin, and the flesh around them was so thin that I imagined I could see those bones through the pale wrapper that surrounded them. As firm as her grip was, her skin was waxy and slick. It reminded me of nothing so much as candle wax, heated tallow, and when I looked into her face, I could see nothing human there.
Her face looked like an exceptionally well-crafted mask.
A mask made of human skin.
"Come inside," she whispered, and I could see that her mask bore too much makeup. She had really caked it on, and it made her look almost clownish. Whoever had applied it had applied it roughly. Her eyes were like black pits beneath all that dark shadow.
"I," I whispered, my dry tongue battering at chapped lips, "I just need to tell my dad where I….:
"Your father can't help you now." she breathed, grinning with her mouth full of gravestone teeth, "but don't worry, you'll see him soon."
She yanked my arm then, and I saw my one chance to escape.
I pulled back hard and nearly toppled her from the porch, my arm slipping from her greasy grip.
I was running flat out as she cawed angrily behind me.
I didn't stop running until I reached my house.
My mom was waiting for me on the porch, looking angry as I came running up. She asked what I thought I was doing out so late? She asked if I meant to meet the Soap Sally that she always joked about? She asked me if I intended to freeze to death in the snow?
All those questions went unanswered.
All her anger disappeared as I wrapped my arms around her and told her that some old woman had taken Terrel and Rob. She called the police but seemed angry when she hung up. She told me that they must have thought she was someone pulling a prank. They told her that they would get right on it and that next time Soap Sally came after her to make sure there was less than a foot of snow on the ground. She sent me to bed, but my dreams were full of the old woman and her deep, pitiless eyes.
In my dreams, she got me.
In my dreams, she cackled as she peeled my skin off.
I woke up the next day to hear mom on the phone with Terrel's mom.
"He came home in a state last night, said some lady had Terrel, just like I told you last night. Didn't you find anything? I'll…. I'll ask him once he gets up. If he comes home, let me know, please."
She hung up the phone and came to talk to me.
The police came by later that day to question me.
I guess they were taking the disappearance of two children a little more seriously now.
I told them exactly what I had told my mom. Rob had hit his head, and the old lady had offered to help us. We put him in a cart and pushed him to her house. I got spooked and tried to run, but she grabbed me. I got free and ran for the house. I told my mom what had happened, but the police hadn't believed her. It seemed like they were interested in this house now and asked me to take them to it.
I gave them directions, but I refused to go anywhere near it.
They came back and told me that the house had been abandoned for years and asked if I was sure.
I told them I was, and they said all they had found was a little bit of dried blood and a black dress that might fit a horse.
They didn't believe me, that much was apparent, but they believed me after the soap arrived.
I woke up one morning, about a week after Rob and Terrel's disappearance, and walked downstairs to the smell of breakfast. Mom was making flapjacks and bacon, and the smell turned my stomach a little as the familiar odor assaulted my nose. To this day, the smell of hot fat makes me want to puke, and the smell of it always takes me back to that house and that day.
"Sweety, could you bring the milk in from the front porch?"
I looked outside, "The snow's three feet deep, mom. I doubt the milkman ran today."
"Well, I heard someone on the porch a few minutes ago. They left something and didn't knock. See if it's the milk before it freezes, please?"
Sitting on the mat, was a smaller wicker basket. Sitting on a bed of black cloth were square packages wrapped in wax paper. I felt my breath hitch as I saw the cloth but tried to shake it off. What didn't remind me of the old woman in the woods these days? I reached down to pick up the package and felt the semi-solid brick of soap as it smooshed a little in my fingers. I unwrapped it, not sure who would leave soap on our doorstep, and that's when I saw the note. It was under the soaps, written in a long spidery hand, and the words sent a shudder through me that the winter chill couldn't top.
"See you soon."
I felt the soap slip from my numb fingers.
When it hit the boards, I looked down and saw something that pushed a scream up my throat.
It was a bone.
A finger bone.
The police told my dad that it had been Rob's finger bone, but they found trace evidence of Terrel's bones in the other bar of soap. Both their parents had received similar baskets of soap and, unfortunately, Rob's Grandmother had brought it from her bathroom when the police came to check. She had been washing her hands with it all day, having no clue that she was washing her hands with her grandson's body.
My own Grandmother came to visit a few days later. She and mom had a long talk about something, and I got the feeling mom didn't want her to tell me something. As she shuffled to my room, I couldn't help but shudder as I imagined my door opening to reveal a huge woman in a black dress and shawl, leering at me as she smiled her witch's grin.
When my Grandma knocked, I told her to come in.
She sat on the bed with me and seemed to think about what she meant to say.
"I grew up in this town too; you know that. One night, my friend Grace and I were late coming home from a church dance. We cut through the park, and as we passed by the sign that said "Welcome to Baskers Park," we saw an old woman who was trying to fix her cart. She asked us to help her, asked us to help her get the cart to her house, and we obliged. No sooner had I seen her house, though, than I got a tickling feeling. My mother had told me about Soap Sally too, and I suddenly realized what that smell was around her cart. It was tallow, and lye, and blood. You got really lucky, kiddo," she said, giving me a little hug as her bones creaked in just that way Soap Sallys had, "don't press that luck by being careless."
She left then, and we never spoke about it again.
That was five years ago, five long winters ago.
The snow is back, and the days are short, but I haven't left my home after dark since that night I lost my best friends. Though I never saw her again, I knew she had seen me. Sometimes I hear the grumble of that cart, the tinkle of the bell, and it sends me running home as surely as it did that night I escaped her. My greatest fear is that she will make good on her threat one day.
One day, Soup Sally may leave me on my parent's front porch, their missing son unknowingly come home.
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2021.12.08 19:16 DankNerd97 'They took my life away': Teen girl jailed by untrustworthy cop must be allowed to sue

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2021.12.08 19:16 Ok_Marionberry4021 The Final Brain Cell on Twitter

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2021.12.08 19:16 rednitro restore crashed ship question

Doing expdition 2 atm and all i have left is the 'restore a crashed ship' and no navigation data on me.
Can anyone share the location of a crashed ship? Many thanks!
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2021.12.08 19:16 GloucesterRoad93 Rewriting an old story. Could this plot change make it better?

Back in the day I wrote a full story about a lesbian romance, where the main character was this shy girl who got in a relationship with an old crush's doppelganger (according to my 16 year old self, that was a very valid reason). Her love interest was a "party girl" who got tired of that life and wanted to settled down (only reason I could come up with to have the extroverted party girl interested in the wallflower).
Recently, I came across that old story and figured I could improve it. I'd scrap the whole old crush part and have the main character struggle with accepting her sexuality. She would try to do what, in her mind, was the right thing but she would feel a pull towards the other girl, completely at ease with her sexuality, very chill and not uptight at all. Regarding the other girl, I'd keep her motivation and chill personality but have her be a little too hands off about her own life and the main character would help her with that.
I'm aiming for the maximum realism possible. Does this make sense or are these people just not compatible at all?
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2021.12.08 19:16 LatentDugongAlloc Borb (Dark-Eyed Junco, Boulder, CO, USA)

Borb (Dark-Eyed Junco, Boulder, CO, USA) submitted by LatentDugongAlloc to birding [link] [comments]


2021.12.08 19:16 GOLDEN_RAVEN69 Tryhard Names

What is a tryhard CEO/MC name or just a normal name that will get people to stop messing with me and leave me alone because they think I am a tryhard
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2021.12.08 19:16 DrianoBriscoll Eating out Christmas Day. Best recommendations? Looking for somewhere upscale.

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2021.12.08 19:16 KingJoy79 This is new…I’ve never received an email that said my delivery date has changed. Anyone else ever receive these?

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