A dry January
No I’m not talking about the weather. That would just be silly.
I’m talking about abstaining from the glorious nectar that is alcohol. Any form. Wine, beer, vodka, Jack Daniels, Bailey’s, pretty much anything that I had on tap over Christmas.
In favour of my “eat less, do more” lifestyle that I am learning to adapt to (with aching muscles to prove it) I thought it would be sensible (afterthought - stupid) to give up alcohol on weekdays. Not easily done, but I conquered the good stuff. But then I had to get all competitive with myself and decide to give up until my birthday - 25th January for those who wish to worship and adore.
So I am one week down with around two more to go.
Fab.
All in all, this lifestyle change does seem to be working. Have made acquaintances with the gym again, which is no easy feat when I have to battle with my boobs if I so much as decide to skip, let alone run. Thankfully I am not in black-eye stages as of yet, though the male glances (admiring or horrified, unsure which) are a little disconcerting. Thankfully with the aid of one’s bright pink iPod, I can pretend I’m Beyonce, Katy Perry or similar. Unfortunately, have habit of forgetting where I am and can be known to sing. “I kissed a girl and I liked iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” doesn’t quite have the right affect when surrounded by sweaty individuals with their game face on.
When I am not at the gym, which is pretty much most of the time, because I am, by no means, a gym bunny, (gym bear perhaps?) I have resorted to dancing around the living room in form of hog gazelle, elegantly completing Clare from Steps’ fitness video. I have become very talented at this and have only banged into the sofa once or twice. Even have personal trainer, in form of Jack Russell, who for all his enthusiasm, prefers sit-ups or Canine Cardiovascular Activity, which he has wittily shortened to Walkies. Either way, progress is progress.
Food-wise, while the fat girl inside me screams for mashed potato, I am favouring forcing myself to eat the delectable nourishment that is soup, soup or water, switching only for a balanced meal in the evenings. Boring isn’t it?
Have now resorted to opening my Naughty Cupboard and staring lustfully, drool optional. Have also developed stalker tendencies and tend to frequent the chocolate aisle far too often at Sainsbury’s. Sure that Cadbury’s will take out a restraining order against me at some point, either that or enrol into some form of protection programme, while I rub Fruit & Nut all over my face while screaming…
I digress.
Yeah, so diet is going well then.
