We said we’d still eat Whole 30 compliant during the week. We said we’d not touch carbs. WE LIED. I’ve eaten so many goddamn Christmas mince pies that I’ve lost count. I’ve scoffed cheese/chocolate/shortbread. EVERYTHING.
I feel awful. My tummy was much flatter during Whole 30, now it’s just fatter. I feel bloated and blah. The only thing I’ve really stayed away from is alcohol. I can’t get back on the buzz. All my buds and colleagues know I love a glass of wine, and was previously always the one panicking about if we would be served alcohol. I’ve also been known to announce that “Prosecco is the perfect breakfast drink!“. I’m seriously just not into the taste. Normally I’d buy a nice bottle of red wine after work and have it with dinner, but in the last few weeks I haven’t fancied it. Everyone keeps asking if I’m pregnant – I wish. I think I was just on the buzz of feeling amazing. Like Kate Moss famously said “nothing tastes as good as skinny feels”. While I don’t agree with the “skinny” part of the quote – when substituting in how healthy I was feeling I totally get what she’s saying. When I was in the full swing of Whole 30, people telling me how good I looked, clear skin and bright eyes; I felt amazing. No block of gruyere, hot chips or chocolate bar was going to pull me from the claws of healthiness.
Over the weekend we (and eight of our friends) went to a bottomless brunch at Asia de Cuba – the food was delicious. I started with a Bloody Mary to get me going, winner. But after three Bellini’s and a mojito I was starting to feel worse for wear. My friend managed to force me to finish my last Bellini with some peer pressure. Honestly, bullies. We next move to a pub in Leicester Square to carry on the drinking, with a gin and tonic in my hand I started to loosen up and get in the groove with the alcoholic beverages. Two further G&Ts and a Southern Comfort and lime later, I was fully back on the bandwagon. Dancing, singing and making a complete ass of my 30-something self. What else is Christmas for? Sunday morning I was feeling a little slow and sluggish, but not hungover. We headed to a pub in Greenwich for a roast with friends and I added a pint of lager to get me over the hump and moving ahead with the day. Just writing this I feel like an alcoholic. I didn’t even mention the part where I’d been out Friday evening with a girlfriend for red wine and a cheeseboard.
So you know previously where I said I can’t get back on the buzz with alcohol? That all changed this weekend. I mean, I don’t buy a bottle of wine and drink it on the bus or on a park bench. But with the Christmas celebrations and catching up with friends it just comes part and parcel. Phil and I have already made the decision that January is crunch time again. This time we’re going for a Whole 30+. Whole 30 plus as many days possible we can carry on, my goal is to complete a Whole 60.
There’s still two weeks of merriment to go, including four nights with the bunch of brunch friends above in a chateau in Salzburg to make it through. I’ve decided not to beat myself up about drinking and eating everything throughout this two weeks as it’s Christmas, and likely our last one in the Northern Hemisphere. Mulled wine will be drunk, pastries will be eaten and I’ll be shoving as much turkey and gravy in my gob that I possibly can.