Yesterday afternoon I looked at all those words of wisdom in the previous entry and thought, Who is this reasonable, level-headed person? What a smug bitch!
Oh yeah. I had pretty ordinary week, people. I had put my big hoof right into all those Social Landmines that I’d vowed to avoid. Result: 0.4 kg gain this morning, just under a pound. Arrgh!
Where did it all go wrong? I went on a team retreat type of thing last Thursday and Friday. There were fairly healthy food options, but I just ignored those options much of the time.
And the drink. Oh, the demon drink. I am not into alcohol to be honest. I don’t see the point in wasting calories on liquids. If I am going to indulge I want something I can sink my teeth into, literally! For all the travel and social events I’ve ponced through this year, I’ve averaged less than one drink per month according to my spreadsheet.
But I had about three drinks on Thursday night, because there was port and it reminds of Christmas and trifles so I couldn’t resist. And then we had our night out in Glasgow on Saturday. I am hopeless in any sort of nightclub situation, I just don’t feel comfortable. So before we even left our friend’s flat I’d already had two glasses of wine to calm my nerves. Normally it takes me about two hours to drink one glass, I’m so slow. Once out, I got locked in a round-buying thing.
I just cannot keep up with Scottish people. Do you all have cast iron livers? People assume because I’m a tall, sturdy lass that I can knock it back, especially since I’m an Australian tall, sturdy lass. In truth, I’m hopeless with anything more than one tiny drink. So on Saturday after three vodka and oranges spread over three hours, my stomach was churning. Gareth and I were lined up at the bar when my head started spinning and my vision clouded. I stumbled to the loos and of course there was a queue, there is always a queue! I felt like a hapless sixteen-year-old who’d sneaked in past the bouncers; I looked so pale and pathetic and bedraggled. Finally I got into a stall and just sat there feeling sorry for myself and clicking my heels in a There’s No Place Like Home fashion.
But I splashed my face with water and ventured back out, and drank nothing but water for the last couple of hours. I actually quite enjoyed it once I’d sobered up a bit, but I couldn’t help calculating that I could have eaten a whole bar of Green and Blacks for all that booze I’d guzzled!
Finally at 3am we were lined up in the world’s longest taxi queue and everyone was walking by with polysterene boxes piled with greasy chips, kebabs, spring rolls, mysterious meats and slippery noodles. I had never known such longing.
Thankfully I resisted, because I had already done quite enough damage to my week. Yesterday afternoon I was feeling so porky and miserable for screwing up the 16 Week Challenge. But then I gave myself a stern pep talk; it was just a blip and not the end of the world. I got off the couch and did a blistering upper body weights workout and then sat down to a healthy dinner cooked by Gareth (roast vegies, sauteed curly kale, Quorn sausages and vegie gravy. Noice!).
So order has been restored. This week will be better. Or else!