Losing It

My mad, crazy journey to health and beyond

Seven days

No, this is not a Craig David song. No-one was making love by Wednesday, and on Thursday, and Friday and Saturday. Although we did chill on Sunday.

Monday: Taking a break from civilisation. Up early to train. Healthy meals all day. Work till 9:30pm. TV. Bed. Watch stuff on laptop. Know I should really be going to sleep. Watch more stuff anyway.

Tuesday: Up early to train. Healthy meals all day. Work till 7pm. TV. Bed. Watch stuff on laptop. Big Fat Quiz of the Year cracks me up. Even though I’ve seen every episode 3 times now.

Wednesday: Up early to train. Healthy meals all day. Work till 4:30pm. Watch The Cutting Edge. For the millionth time. TOEPICK! Bed. Watch stuff on laptop again. Starting to develop a crush on Jimmy Carr. May need to return to civilisation sooner than I thought.

Thursday: Up early to train. Healthy meals all day. Work till 5:30pm. TV. Bed. Watch stuff on laptop. I like Noel Fielding’s hair. And his dress. That was a weird sentence.

Friday: Up early to train. Healthy meals all day. Work, then return to civilisation. TV. Bed. Watch stuff on laptop. Wishing the year would hurry up and end so they would bring out a new episode of Big Fat Quiz of the Year. Obsession with Richard Ayoade is now at an 11 out of 10.

Saturday: Up at 4:30am. What in the name of all that is holy??? Eat breakfast half-asleep. Drive 500 miles (ok, 50km) through to Landskroon Winery. Not to drink. To run. Because I am mad.

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Run 10km in 1:16. Not quite last, but almost. Eh, don’t care – was a beautiful run. Realise that left arm is in an immense amount of pain, with almost zero mobility. Drive home, shower. Carefully. Drive through to hair salon. Changing gears is excruciating. Yay for me. Sit in chair and wonder if everyone looks revolting in those awful hairdressing capes, or if it’s just me. How come I never noticed I had so many chins??? Drive home. Ow. OW! Healthy lunch, watch tv, take drugs given to me by pharmacist. Drape hot pack over arm. Pray for slow death. Realise that getting dressed for function later will be almost impossible. Call friend over to help. Drink bubbly, get dressed very slowly. Bubbly helps. So does friend. Call Uber. Thank fuck I don’t have to drive. Get to Pigalle (fancy!) for freelance Christmas party. Have super awesome time with friends!

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Eat healthy food. DRINK ALL THE DRINKS! Move on to some other clubs. Not feeling it. Some weird-ass dude is trying to feel my face. Dimly recall there’s some sort of song about that. Realise that when I am in a club surrounded by 25-year-olds on E, it’s probably time to leave. Pour myself into an Uber and go home to pass out. Getting undressed doesn’t hurt quite as badly. Thank you alcohol.

Sunday: Why am I asleep on my couch? Remember moving there in the middle of the night. Don’t question it. Headache. Arm still hurts like a mother bitch. Yay Myprodol and Rehidrat! Healthy breakfast. Shower, Cavendish, Mockingjay Part 2. Biltong snacks. Home after decent movie and appalling Point Break trailer. Crave pizza. Have a chicken and salad wrap instead. I would high five myself but it’s too much effort. So traumatised by previous trailer, watch real (and only!) Point Break to calm myself down. Snooze on couch. Wake up to Keanu yelling “I AM AN FBI AGENT!” Yes you are baby, yes you are. Skype parents, watch random crap on TV. End off day with a healthy dinner and half of Ghost. Apparently I’m in a Patrick Swayze kind of mood. He would never put me in a corner.

Monday: Up and at ’em, go go GO! Drive through to Clifton, climb a fucking ridiculous amount of stairs (whatever 280 x 14 is). Die.

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Home. Breakfast. Doctor. Cortisone and anaesthetic. Bliss. Work till 6:30pm. Healthy meals all day. Perve new intern on Grey’s. Again. Assessing whether or not this means I am in need of a life. Bed. More Big Fat Quiz. Wonder if Eddie Izzard is straight or gay. Google. Straight apparently. You learn something new about transvestites every day.

Tuesday: Step on scale.

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Realise that after a week of regular training, healthy eating, positive thinking and doing a lot of what I love, I have managed to lose 3.7kg in one week. Because I am a fucking legend.

And that, my friends, is balance.

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Frequently Asked Questions

I’ve been writing a lot of FAQ pages recently in my professional capacity, so I thought, why not write one in my personal capacity too and tackle some of the queries that have been coming my way. Just go with me on this.

 

Q: So where’ve you been recently Nicola?

A: At home. Away. Home some more. Away some more. Not wearing pants. Bars. Also bars. And then bars. I did wear pants in the bars though.

 

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Literally do not remember this photo being taken.

 

Q: So does that mean you’re drinking again?

A: I refuse to answer on the grounds that it may incriminate me.

 

Q: You know we’re in South Africa right? The Fifth Amendment doesn’t apply here.

A: Oh for fuck’s sakes.

 

Q: Would you like to try that again?

A: OK FINE! YEEEEEEEEEEES I am drinking again.

 

Q: What are you drinking?

A: Kenilworth mostly.

 

Q: Why are you being so difficult?

A: Permission to be acknowledged as a hostile witness Your Honour.

 

Q: Again, not an episode of Law & Order. Seriously, what’s going on?

A: I don’t KNOOOOOOOOOOOW! Ok well actually I do know. Drink, drink, drink some more. Make some very questionable choices. Throw name like a fucking champion. Wake up feeling like SHIT. Eat all the food. Have one to two days of making healthy choices. Ooh I feel like a drink! Repeat ad infinitum. Feel guilty, feel like crap, feel ashamed, feel like burying myself under the duvet and never coming out, feel li… WHERE IS THE MYPRODOL???

 

Q: Yeah no, that’s not good.

A: That’s not a question.

 

Q: Ok, so here’s the question. What the actual fuck is going on?

A: Genuinely, honestly, I have no idea. It could be a number of things. Work is BEYOND insane, so there’s that. I’ve been working relentlessly at my health and fitness journey for nearly 18 months now non-stop, so there’s that. And it’s the end of the year, when everyone is naturally tired and exhausted and broken down anyway, so there’s that. Throw my biggest trigger and my knee-jerk go-to coping mechanism on top of all of that, and it’s like chucking a Molotov cocktail on top of all your hard work and watching everything go up in flames.

 

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Cheers!

 

Q: So are you going to go back to sobriety again then? Because it seems that all your issues started as soon as you took that first sip of wine a few weeks ago.

A: I’ve seriously contemplated it. Giving up alcohol and committing fully to my health journey was a massive catalyst for change in my life, and it not only introduced me to new friends and new pastimes, it introduced me to my authentic self, and a better quality of life overall.

 

Q: So that’s a yes?

A: You would think so, but no. I thought about it a lot, I discussed it with friends, I mulled over it at 3am when I couldn’t sleep, and I most definitely considered it when I was hunched over a toilet at 5am having a dramatic technicolour conversation. And at one point I was genuinely convinced that I was going to embrace lifelong sobriety. But then I realised, I don’t WANT to be sober for the rest of my life. What I want is to be able to go to wine festivals and dinners and lazy lunches and ladies’ nights and enjoy some drinks, some giggles, some good conversation, some blissful tipsiness, and embrace everything that life has to offer, not just part of it.

 

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Case in point.

 

Q: What do you mean by that?

A: Well, when I gave up drinking, it was the absolute best thing for me at the time. It forced me to confront the fact that there IS a way of existing, of living, of coping and of being happy without having to depend on alcohol constantly. I’d heard this was possible, but I’d never experienced it for myself. So that’s what sobriety allowed me to do – enjoy life to the full without any chemical enhancement. But looking back on it now, I realise that it wasn’t a balanced way of life. There were a lot of things I sacrificed and missed out on while I was so determinedly focused on my health journey. And that’s fine, I was fully prepared to give up those things for the sake of my physical and emotional health. But now I want to embrace life in EVERY way – to enjoy the same awesome moments and the same amazing quality of life I did while I was sober, AND to enjoy the fun of partying and socialising with my friends too. I want both sides of life, and even though I’m struggling to reconcile them at the moment, it’s something I know I can make happen for myself, if I work hard enough at it.

 

Q: How?

A: Well isn’t that the fucking million dollar question. Obviously I don’t know right this moment, hence the struggle and the falling and THE SHAME and the everything. But I’m determined to once and for all find the thing that has so far escaped me for most of my adult life – BALANCE. Drinking all the time obviously wasn’t balanced – but then neither was being sober all the time too. Both were very all or nothing ways of existing, and yes, while sobriety worked wonderfully well for me, it was a temporary phase, not a permanent way of life. Now that I’m finished with that phase, it’s time to move on to the next, far healthier, far more sustainable one – BALANCE.

 

Q: And you think you can?

A: I gave up alcohol for 15 months. If I can make it through dinners, parties, blind dates, concerts, my high school reunion, and a freaking car accident without resorting to alcohol, I can do this. Embracing sobriety was literally the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, and I genuinely didn’t think I could do it. I’m looking forward to surprising myself again.

 

Q: Don’t hit me, but I need to ask. Has all this up and down and sideways and what what affected your weigh-ins at all?

A: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. What do you think?

 

Q: I’m taking it that’s a yes?

A: That’s a big fat yes.

 

Q: Ok, so what are you going to do about it?

A: Well I’ve taken a few lessons from the fuck-up that has been the past five weeks – the biggest one being, never, ever, ever, EVER drink the night before a trail run. I’m serious kids. Don’t do it. There are few other guidelines I’ll be putting in place for myself in order to achieve more balance in my life, but the biggest one is, just let it freaking go man. We’re all human, we all make mistakes, you don’t have to be better than anyone else or hold yourself to a higher standard or be perfect ALL THE TIME. Because you can’t. So when you fall down, don’t lie there yelling and screaming and drowning in your own shame and guilt. Just let it go, get up, and get back to work. Ain’t nobody got time for that. As for the few (ok, ok, 6) extra kilograms I’ve picked up, the rest of the year I’ll be making as many healthy choices as I can, as often as I can, I’ll be getting back on the trails and back in the gym, and come January, I’ll have lost it all and be ready to pound 2016 into submission!

 

Q: High five sister!

A: High five.

 

Q: Ok so those are all the questions I have for you.

A: Thank god for that, I’m starving, and my chicken and lettuce wrap awaits!

 

Q: One more thing.

A: I knew it was too good to be true.

 

Q: Don’t think that because you have a blog and do health coaching and post transformation pics of yourself and have a health and fitness group that you can’t ask for help too. This shit is HARD, and no-one expects you to be Little Miss Perfect, 24/7. Because frankly, how boring. Don’t feel guilty, don’t feel ashamed, don’t feel fat – just learn, get up, do better and don’t stop sharing. Because people care, and you’ll see that whenever you fall down, you have hundreds of hands waiting to help you back up. Don’t ever forget that, ok?

A:

Birthday fun

I see what you mean.

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Things I have realised

1. It’s important to take time out to relax. Too much focus for too long can lead to burnout, swearing, hair pulling, and a bizarre need to stick one’s head into a vat of wine at 9am.

2. Trail running is awesome.

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3. I don’t need this blog quite as much as I used to at this stage of my journey. When I started this blog, I needed it to share things about my journey as I learned them, whether from a nutritional, training or emotional standpoint. Now, nearly two years later, I’m comfortable with my weight loss journey and what I’ve learned so far, and I don’t have as strong a need to share everything – mostly because there’s nothing new to share. Wait till we get to maintenance. I know fuck all about maintenance. That’s going to be fun.

4. I need to learn how to say no. I say yes far too often – to work, social engagements, people, situations, all out of a desire not to let anyone down. I now find myself overwhelmed with work and in a number of convoluted, undesirable situations, all because I find myself physically incapable of saying no. And at the end of the day I’m letting the most important person down – myself.

5. Wine is awesome.

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Too much wine, however, is not. I have two more social situations planned between now and when I go away for Christmas – the only two situations in which I’ll be drinking between now and the end of the year, and while I know I’m totally going to drink too much at these events, I’m actually ready for moderation now – which is the plan for 2016. No more sobriety, but alcohol and macros all the way. Will someone please call Guinness because I don’t quite believe it myself.

6. I don’t like eating junk food anymore. Fucking bloody fucking hell. Seriously? My one go-to for when times were tough, and it doesn’t even work anymore. After drinking a spectacular amount of Pinotage on Saturday (it’s called Pinotage on Tap, what do you expect from me?) I did what I would normally do which is eat a bunch of food the next day (this was planned, fear not). And to my surprise, disbelief and horror, I didn’t enjoy it. Sure, the food tasted good while it was in my mouth, but afterwards I felt overfull, sluggish, lethargic, bloated, tired and generally like crap. Plus my feet were the size of dinner plates thanks to all the water retention. So bang goes that strategy for making me feel better. I’m alive with pleasure now.

I enjoyed this lunch more than I did the pizza I had on Saturday. I actually want to cry right now.

I enjoyed this lunch more than I did the pizza I had on Saturday. I actually want to cry right now.

7. I don’t even know what my freaking size is anymore. I had to get a lady at Woolies to measure my bra size FFS. 38 D as it turns out. I don’t even remember the last time I was a D. When I started my journey I was about an F, now I’m a paltry D. Someone said to me the other day something about how “oh but you only have small boobs” and most of me wanted to cry. Big boobs and blonde hair has always been my thing. Now that I’ve lost 55kg, oh yay well done me, but now all I have is blonde hair (and even that’s mostly fake). Come back boobs, all is forgiven!

8. This journey really and truly is one of self-discovery, and not just of salad. Here I sit, not knowing what my size is, not knowing how to reward myself, not knowing how to cut loose, not knowing how to enjoy myself – because all the ways in which I used to do these things, and all the things I used to know about myself have been stripped away. Mostly because they were bad, sabotaging, damaging things. I had a minor freakout yesterday – WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO NOW???? – and started feeling resentful because everything I used to love now no longer loves me. And I guess I could have stayed in that negative space, feeling annoyed and irritated and hard done by. But that’s not really me. There are a lot of things I’m unsure about at the moment, but the one thing I know is that I’m a positive, optimistic person. And so instead of getting upset at the fact that certain external stimuli no longer hold the same value for me, I’m going to get excited about the fact that my internal support structure of self-love, worth and esteem has grown to the point where I’m able to validate myself, rather than rely on other people and other things to do it for me. I might not be able to say no, but there’s a lot I’m able to say yes to, and I’m looking forward to finding out what excites me, what soothes me, what cheers me, what fills me with joy and passion now that food and alcohol no longer do. They should never have needed to in the first place, and although it’s taken a fuck long time for me to realise that, there’s no going back now. So let’s see what the future holds. I don’t know about you, but I’m excited to find out!

9. Oh and the last thing I’ve realised – never weigh yourself after a weekend of drinking and eating carbs. I found this out a long time ago, so I didn’t even bother weighing myself today. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. Which means if you’re looking for a scale pic, you’ll need to check back in next week 😉

Cheers!

Cheers!

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Things I am thankful for

1. I am thankful that when this happened to my car, nothing happened to me.

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2. I am thankful for friends who talk me out of making potentially big mistakes.

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3. I am thankful for George Ezra concerts and picnic food and catching up with friends.

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4. I am thankful for fabulousness, and glitz and glamour. And six-packs.

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5. I am thankful for people who have gone out of their way to help me, from good friends, to acquaintances, to people I barely even know. Whoever said Capetonians are stuck-up and snobby and aloof was clearly smoking some low-grade crack.

6. I am thankful for my father organising cars and test drives and back-up plans all the way from Mauritius.

7. I am thankful for my sister and mother checking in on me everyday to make sure I haven’t topped myself out of frustration and boredom.

8. I am thankful for messages of support and kindness and cheerfulness.

9. I am thankful that my favourite band in the whole world is FINALLY coming to South Africa!!!! (If you don’t have their latest album yet, go out and buy it right now – it is miraculous, lack of banjo notwithstanding.)

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10. And finally I’m glad that a weekend of ups, downs and everything in between had little effect on the scale:

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11. Oh and bonus thankfulness – to Rouge Spa for yet again another fantastic toe makeover, in luscious Orly “Melt Your Popsicle”. Watch out – I’ll do it too.

So much to be thankful for, and so much to look forward to over the coming week. May it be a blessed one.

Thank You

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Girl Power

My friends and I have a tradition. Every Women’s Day, we go out for lunch and get completely and utterly hammered. We start our “lunch” at around 1pm (inverted commas because very little eating usually gets done) and eventually stumble out of the restaurant at about 11pm. Sometimes later, depending on the severity of the week. I love my friends, and I love drinking, which is why I’ve always loved Women’s Day. Good food, good wine, good conversation, and good god, what an awesome time!

Obviously some memorable moments have come out of these annual drinkathons. There was the year my friend went to the loo and her bag got stolen off the back of her chair. There was the year the same friend and I got so rat-assed, the evil waiter charged each of us R700 individually, instead of collectively, and we didn’t notice (that fucker made out like a bandit). And there was the year I said to my friends, “I hear there’s some 10km Women’s Day race in Stellenbosch or something – maybe next year we should do that.” And then we all gave ourselves appendicitis by laughing so fucking hard, and went back to drowning ourselves in tequila and bad decisions.

This year marked the 10th anniversary of our annual Women’s Day Piss-Up, and after a decade of laughing, eating and drinking together, you would have thought this celebration would have been the one to END THEM ALL. I’m talking body shots and strippers and Cuervo, oh my. If you’d looked at us, you wouldn’t have seen anything different. You would have seen love and laughter and clinking glasses and friendship. But if you’d looked a little closer, you would have seen three out of the five glasses filled with sparkling water, and the other two only half-filled with a single glass of wine. Because times change, and so have we.

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I spend a lot of time on here talking about how much I value the support of my friends, but I don’t talk about them much beyond that, mostly because I try to disassociate them from my word drivel as much as possible. I’ve made a lot of new friends in the past year or two, thanks to my association with SleekGeek and my new love of trail running, and I appreciate and value them all, but it’s the friends I’ve had for the past five, ten, fifteen years that I want to recognise today. The friends who don’t know me only as Nicola who fits into size 30 Levi’s and gives talks about weight loss success. Rather, the friends who knew me when I drank too much, ate too much, didn’t shower for weeks on end, wore filthy, ripped clothes to work, was hungover four days out of seven, and spent most of my time hating myself and hating my life.

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I’ve lived away from my family since I was 12 years old and in boarding school, and as a result, my friendships have become massively, intrinsically, critically important to me. My friends are more than people I simply spend time with – they are my urban family, the people I turn to in good times and bad, the people I ask for help, and the people I depend on to tell me when I’m going off the rails and harming myself. I’ve done plenty of fucking stupid things in my 38 years of existence, but one thing I’ve done right is surround myself with the best family members a girl could ask for. Together we’ve seen each other through everything – losing partners, losing jobs, losing family members, losing hope, and in the process we’ve gained something indescribably valuable – a connectedness that surpasses petty jealousies and spitefulness and nastiness, and is instead the strength of sisterhood at its finest.

We might not be on the same paths, but we’re constantly growing together, learning together, and striving to transform into the best versions of ourselves we can be – which is why instead of knocking back the GDP of Mexico this year at Women’s Day, we were concentrating on filling up with what was really important – each other.

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I used to think all women valued each other and recognised their collective strength and importance, but it turns out I was wrong. Instead, it seems there are some women out there who simply don’t get it. Women who tell me I’m showing off for celebrating my progress. Women who call me a bitch for losing weight. Women who smile in front of me and say nasty, vile things about me and my journey behind my back. And women who tell me that my choices (to be celibate, to not have children) somehow make me less than a woman, with a life unfulfilled.

Yeah just look how unhappy I am.

Yeah just look how unhappy I am.

I made the mistake last week of letting these stings and barbs bother me for a few days. I even almost went as far as deleting both my blog and my Losing It Facebook page, because I thought, what is the fucking point? I moped around a bit because, human, but then I realised something, and I’ve slept easy since then. I realised that I don’t need to feel sorry for myself, but sorry for these women instead. I’m sorry that there are women out there who let themselves feel defeated by the successes of others. I’m sorry that there are women who choose to put others down in order to lift themselves up. I’m sorry that there are women who feel more comfortable exposing their naked insecurities than working through them. And mostly I’m sorry that there are women out there who are such a blatant disgrace to their gender and feminism as a whole. Bless sweethearts. Womanhood. You’re doing it wrong.

Some people who aren’t doing it wrong though are my friends. My strong, powerful, beautiful, supportive friends. We may not get quite as shitfaced together anymore, but we’re still here for each other on Women’s Day and every day in between. And while the health journey is hard, and the road is long, walking it with you makes every step easier and more worthwhile. So a massive heartfelt thank you and bags of love to Sue, Wendy, Liezl, Pat, Lynn, Tiziana, Chantel, and of course, Caren. I went and looked up “woman” in the dictionary, and your names were all there. My dictionary is a weirdly specific one. Girl power. You’re doing it very, very, very right.

Literally the only fucking photo I have of you Chantel. What the F man?

Literally the only fucking photo I have of you Chantel. What the F man?

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My wishlist for the rest of 2015

Yes yes I know, you were starting to wonder if I was still alive. Well I’m here – buried under a mountain of work, but here. And since it’s my first time back in a loooong time, I thought I’d inject some positivity into this here place – with a fantabulous wishlist for the rest of the year. Five months and counting. Usually people wait until Christmas to put together their wishlists, but I’ve never been what you’d describe as normal. Also, it’s Christmas in July right now, and since no-one invited me to their big dinner (shame on you) I thought I’d put together this list instead.

  1. I wish to be having these things. Please to be buying for me? I have no money, but I like very much the things.

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  1. I wish tequila didn’t taste so damn good. Seriously, 377 days of no drinking, and it’s like I never left. Oops.

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  1. I wish I could remember the last hour of my birthday party. Double oops.

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  1. I WISH MATTHEW HADN’T FUCKING MOVED TO FUCKING DUBAI.

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  1. I wish I hadn’t put this red race shirt on backwards when I did the 11km Knysna Featherbeds trail run. I look freaking retarded.

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  1. I wish I was able to say to myself, ‘It’s ok, have a cheat meal’, and then not stress about it for weeks afterwards. Will I ever be able to eat like a normal person again?
  1. I wish I had enjoyed this race more. Bastille Day Trail Run, 15km. I loathed every minute of it. At least the pic looks good though.

Bastille Day

  1. I wish there was alcohol in this glass. Turns out that after more than an entire year of not drinking, I still can’t stop at one. Fucking hell. So the sobriety continues until my Run the Berg race in October. And then we’ll reassess.

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  1. I wish I could tell you how AMPED I am that a year after my very first trail run at Paul Cluver Wine Estate, I completed the same course OVER AN HOUR FASTER than last year! 60 minutes bitch – count them!

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  1. I wish I had this guy’s phone number. I’ve made celibacy a life choice going forward (genuine) but I would let this guy shoplift the pooty in a nanosecond. Jesus wept is he hot.

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  1. I wish I could do pedicures as well as the awesome folks at Rouge Day Spa. Most of the time I can barely touch my toes, so I love that I have someone to take care of them for me. Look how pretty – all lovingly wrapped up in Orly Rock It. And rock it, I do.

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  1. I wish this had gone a little better this morning. But it’s ok. After two weeks of parties, festivals, dinners, lunches and what what, I’m back on track and I’m ready to kick butt for the next phase of my journey. Bring it on life, let’s see what you’ve got!

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  1. And lastly, I wish I could say I was sorry for ending off with another one of these. But I’m not. Brock understands.

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Things I learned on holiday. In Mauritius.

In case you’ve been living under a rock, you’ll know that I recently went on holiday to visit my parents in Mauritius. I won’t bore you with how fabulous it was, because it was – instead I’ll pass on some extremely important life lessons I learned while I was swanning around an island paradise for two weeks. These are now what keep me warm at night while I’m shivering in my blanket taco.

1. Life is hard.

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2. Cake is good.

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3. Post-cake sugar coma is not.

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4. Waterfalls are cool.

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5. Cannons are big.

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6. Statues also.

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7. Lilypads also.

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8. Catamarans are awesome.

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9. Water is blue. Blue blue blue.

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10. Mocktails taste better on holiday.

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11. Parents rock.

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12. Birthday pancakes have no calories.

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13. Neither do birthday cupcakes, brownies or ice cream with homemade salted caramel sauce.

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14. Miniature Mauritian chickens are delicious.

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15. It’s amazing the difference a little time and a lot of work can make.

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16. And if you make healthy holiday choices, move regularly and choose your treats wisely, you can still lose weight even when you’re on holiday:

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You know what that means don’t you? Two years on this journey, FIFTY KILOGRAMS DOWN, and only 15 more to go! I’ll definitely be drinking to that on Saturday!

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Life sucks and then you die

I really didn’t feel like blogging today. I really didn’t feel like doing much of anything today, other than saying ‘fuck this shit’ and climbing back under the covers. Literally the only reason why I got up, took my weigh-in pic and went to gym was because a) my trainer was waiting for me, and b) some very kind people have told me that they look forward to Tuesdays, because they love seeing my weekly weigh-in and reading my blog. So this one’s for you:

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Sigh.

Logically I know that it is impossible for me to have gained 2.1kg in a week. I didn’t cheat on my eating plan once, I trained 6 days out of 7, and I tried to get a bit of extra sleep too. I know that apparent “weight gain” is a result of many things – water retention, inflammation, natural body fluctuations, hormones, yadda yadda. I know these things. But can I please just be human for one damn second, and say that it sucks giant donkey balls to do everything right and end up “gaining” 2.1kg in 7 days??

Sigh.

I realise I’m being slightly overdramatic, and that in the grand scheme of things, this is nothing. And I’m far enough along in my journey for this not to affect how I eat, train or live over the coming week. I’ve been to gym, I’ve had my healthy breakfast, all is right with the world. I am in no danger of eating or drinking my way through this. That way madness lies.

I’m a woman, so obviously I stepped on the scale 5 or 6 times to make ABSOLUTELY SURE that this was its last word on the subject, and sadly there was no budging it. Somewhere around the 3rd or 4th step onto the scale, the little voice in my head piped up. “You don’t get to be depressed about this. You have to be inspiring instead!”. I understand this. But please could you give me about 5 minutes to feel like crap? I’ll get back to being inspiring in just a sec.

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Frankie say relax

Frankie

Weekends. People on health journeys are always on about them. Too much cake, not enough salad, too much couch, not enough gym. I don’t have this problem. Mainly because I have no idea what a weekend is. When you work for yourself, the concept of two consecutive days off ceases to exist. Instead, weekends are merely days with more traffic than usual. Which is, quite frankly, really irritating. Can you all just please fuck off and go home so I can get my errands done in a jiff and go back to work??? Ta.

While it would be heaven on earth to actually have a day of free time on the odd occasion, the fact that I am busy as fuck all day every day on Saturdays and Sundays has actually been a blessing in terms of my health journey. I don’t have time to be bored and mmm let’s see what’s in the fridge. I don’t have time to laze around on the couch and mmm what can I eat. And I don’t have time to mooch around the mall and mmm let’s see what the new Burger King special tastes like. So while working on the weekends is a gigantic pain in the ass, it’s actually helped me develop a smaller ass. Believe it or not.

Working all weekend every weekend does take its toll though, which is why lately I’ve been making a concerted effort to enjoy more free time and less WORK WORK WORK YOU LAZY BITCH. And wouldn’t you know it, I’ve actually been having a lot more fun! Who would have thought.

I’ve been able to do things like:

Enjoy a fabulously luxurious stay at the divine Urban Chic Boutique Hotel on Long Street in town.

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Go for cocktails (YES THEY ARE VIRGIN COCKTAILS. Before you ask. Because someone always does.)

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Enjoy a sublime dinner at Pepenero, one of my favourite restaurants.

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Go trail running (and almost die in the process).

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Have a superiffic lunch after said trail run.

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Take in some local flavour (and local coffee) and the Hout Bay market (followed by a little coffee time at home).

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Enjoy time with friends, and with the gigantic seats at Ster Kinekor Prestige (go Avengers!).

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Treat myself to some mouthwatering (and completely within my macros) meals.

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And enjoy an absolutely decadent mani (Orly Faint Heart) and pedi (Orly It’s Up To Blue) at the always awesome Rouge Day Spa.

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Just because it's winter doesn't mean your tootsies have to be dull.

Just because it’s winter doesn’t mean your tootsies have to be dull.

Much more relaxing than a pub. Much less Myprodol needed afterwards too.

Much more relaxing than a pub. Much less Myprodol needed afterwards too.

So yes, it’s been a wonderfully relaxing, pampering, fabulous past weekend. I’m starting to see what all you 9 to 5 people are on about with your two full days of free time. And I’m thinking of starting to make it a habit!

Hang on, hang on, there’s something I’m forgetting. I’m sure there was something else I did recently… Oh wait, I remember! Lose a fuckton of weight.

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Seems like taking life a little easier has benefits beyond good food, friends and conversation. Because good golly Miss Molly, after this morning’s weigh-in, I only have 16.9kg to go until I reach my goal weight. WOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!

So I’m going to go off and have myself a little celebration – you all go off and have yourselves a fabulous Tuesday!

Kiss 1

8 Comments »

Some pretty searching questions

So last week I bored everyone senseless by banging on about how restless and drinky I was feeling. Yay for me! That’s why this week I thought it was important to start questioning myself and where I am at this stage in my journey, so I can see a clear path forward.

Congratulations, you have reached the question and answer portion of this exam. You’ve been feeling all AAARRRRGGGGG for the past few weeks – let’s take a look at where you actually are.

1. Why Nicola, are you wearing smaller pants?

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Why yes, yes I am.

2. Why Nicola, are you finally able to fit into the smallest pairs of jeans in your cupboard?

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Why yes, yes I am.

3. Why Nicola, did you get through the equivalent of a half marathon this past weekend?

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Why yes, yes I did (Barely).

4. Why Nicola, are those collarbones I see?

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Why fuck me sideways, yes they are.

5. Why Nicola, what’s that on your toes?

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Why, it’s a fabulous Rouge Spa pedicure in Orly “What’s the Password”, thanks for noticing!

6. Why Nicola, did you crush your weigh-in this morning?

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WHY YES, YES I FUCKING DID!!!!!!!

7. Why Nicola, are you going to be celebrating this?

You bet your tight little ass I am!

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So, bring on the 80s – I’m ready for them. Bad hair, lumo clothes, awesome music, can’t wait! That makes it 45.8kg down, and just 19.2kg until I reach my goal weight. High five for awesomeness!

High Five

PS: Tell me which comedy show I stole my header from, and you win the prize (no, it’s not Friends, don’t be lazy).

PPS: No Caren, you can’t enter (see, told you I’d mention you!).

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