Ocsober Victory

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20150926_213310Crack open the sparkling water, I have made it through October sans alcohol like a BLOODY LEGEND! And, okay naysayers, the month is not entirely up, but it’s safe to say: I got this. High-five me! A whole month without a cheeky tipple? Who knew? Many of those other ‘dry’ months have passed me by, with just fleeting intentions to get on board, and to be THAT person, but there was always something on that would get in the way of sobriety – an upcoming party, Thursday…But this time, Ocsober came at just the right time. It was the day after The Footy Show Grand Final after-party and yes ok it was the 1st October (naysayers), where I drank bad white wine from a plastic cup, while trying to drown out the screeching sound of live Cold Chisel covers, and I thought, I’m done. And even with the relatively small amount of alcohol I consumed, I still woke up after a broken sleep, feeling dusty and over it. It was time. Not only was it a no-no to booze, I decided to go the whole nine yards and also ditch sugar, refined food, red meat, dairy carbs – yep, it was cleanse time.  And why not throw in 2 training sessions a week with a couple of spin classes? Steady on there #professional athlete!

So here is what I’ve learnt on my clean living journey of 3 weeks:

Boozy Habits   

In my previous life before I was a #professionalathlete, it’s become apparent that 20150904_174902I was a boozehound. I loved a beverage, especially Champagne and this was widely known. I could hear the pop of a Champers bottle from a mile away. At every social event, I had a glass firmly attached to my hand – it was quite unthinkable not to. Sharing lovely bottles of wine, eating chubby-making tasties off platters, long lunches, Champagne on the balcony – it was part of our culture as friends, and I loved it. And then there was couch time with the hub of an evening – reality TV and a few shwines – this was our time. Without the grog and carbs, I’m seeing no one and barely speaking to my husband. When one door closes…20150816_172740


Personality Deficit 

The other day I did make-up for a guest who had her own fitness app and a studio. Now, when I get a person in the old make-up chair, I like to chew the fat (pardon the pun), and engage in a bit of convo. But this trainer had NADA to offer. Sitting there in her active wear, and hard body, she appeared to have zero going on behind the bright, shiney eyes. And now I know why. Because she hasn’t eaten carbs since the 90s and she is worn out from exercise and can’t muster up the energy to chitchat. Hello, story of my new life! And I so get it, yes you’re feeling fabulous, looking better than you have for years and have energy, but not quite enough energy to sit around with friends as they move onto the second bottle, chow down finger-food, and listen to their stories. Furthermore, your stories…well, there are none. You’ve become the world’s biggest bore and because you can’t partake in basic bonding rituals like carbs with cheese, cocktails, wine and Champagne, no one wants to hang out with you. Nor do they really want to hear about how many centimeters you’ve lost around your waist. Boring! So, I’ve discovered I am indeed way duller than I knew.


I’m Not Counting down Days till I can Crack Open the First bottle of Champs20150816_172135

Unlike other diets I’ve been on, and let’s be honest there has been MANY, I am not fantasizing about my first cocktail or glass of Veuve. Ditto to sugars or trusty cheese platters. Sure, I am excited to surface and have a meal out. If the truth be known, I’d happily push on like a LEGEND through November. But with the in-laws arriving this Thursday and our 12 year anniversary on Monday, where we take a mini vacay to Bannisters Mollymook – it’s not going to happen. So even with the risk of losing all my friends and my marriage – I would go November, BECAUSE I FEEL FANTASTIC! I’ve lost 4 kilos, centmetres of all the bits and I feel strong and healthy. Summer doesn’t scare me as it has every other year. And I’ve become quite addicted to the weekly measurements with the trainer, and randomly hopping on the scales as they edge closer to that lofty goal weight. Who am I?

Will I just pack it all in after 3 nights at Bannisters with the odd Rick Stein meal and celebratory Champs (12 years of marriage people – alcohol required). Or will I get back on the horse and continue to be THAT person who loses weight every week and sips water at social functions if I’m ever invited to any?

Watch this space.




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