|Everything and Nothing|
As most of you are aware, my latest challenge of losing 10kgs this year has been going swimmingly and if you’re up to date with the blog you’ll know that I have been dealt or thrown, depending on which sporting analogy you want to use – granted some say that poker isn’t a real sport, but to hell with them – a rather nasty curve ball in forgetting that I’m going to be a best man. Accepting this responsibility has come with two speed bumps; a Bachelors and the imminent wedding – both of which will be festive events and both of which will and should call for social lubrication, aka “The Drink”.
What I’ve decided to do hasn’t been easy and for some of you reading this will either lift your nose to say one of two things, 1) “Oh please, look how weak you are, giving up to a little peer pressure and just because it’s a Bachelors doesn’t mean you have to drink!” or 2) “Well then, what’s the point? Why carry on?” and the truth is, I don’t really have a rebuttal to either. I understand that giving up as much as I have has been a big sacrifice (well, to me anyway…I’m sure millions have gone on and done it just as easily) and that maybe I delved in too deep to begin with, but the honest truth is that I’m proud of myself for the things that I have achieved thus far and will continue to be proud of myself going forward. Yeah sure, so I’m drinking this weekend…and I’ll have a couple of glasses of champagne at the wedding, so f-ing sue me prat. I’ll be sure to put your “Compassionate Reassurance Cheque” in the mail along with a letter stating how you can pucker up and kiss my ass.
Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, I’m going to try and make sense of this decision or should I have to? Why can’t it just be what it is? Frivolous fun? A celebration? Reward even? Or simply a blip on the screen of achievement in the Project 10 radar?
The honest answer is, I don’t know. I don’t know if this is truly going to impact my progress, whether it may be mentally, emotionally or physically. In the end, the only thing we’re talking about here is: alcohol. So, if you had ideas of donuts wrapped in boerewors for breakfast, think again Mr.McCain, I’m sticking to the diet. So, I’m throwing a little booze in the mix for three days out of the allotted 6 months…shame…should I call you a “Waambulance” because the colour in your judgmental face is starting to look like that one of the sirens strategically placed over that enormous-pride-stricken face of yours.
Right, that was my last defensive blurp in this piece because some of you might be thinking that I am attempting to justify my up-coming actions.
I can assure you, I’m not. I’ve been very open about what I’ve felt, ate, struggled with and now I’m divulging what I’ve planning on doing…forgive me if I don’t see the difference there. What you have to keep in mind – and this is a recent revelation for me – everything that I have chosen to do, eat, not eat, deprive and reward myself of over the past 77 days has been all my choice. I have let no one alter my direction of influence my actions in anyway.