Last night I got frocked up. A Cooper St dress, my outfit from Spring Carnival last year, it always makes me feel good about myself. Big, gold earrings and bling on my fingers. Finished with a pair of deep-purple, high heel shoes. I felt amazing and ready to face the world.
It was the Annual Victorian Showjumpers Ball. The occasion gets us all out of our jodhpurs, into frocks and suits. It’s a great social night that we get to spend away from the usual trucks that we usually catch up in. It is also a great excuse for us all to have a drink, or twenty, together, being merry and dancing the night away.
I didn’t have a drop of alcohol, and it didn’t even phase me.
I was still merry and I still danced the night away. I suspect that it may take me less than half the time to recover than most of my friends.
I spent the night in that temptation, and it was easy. But, today I folded.
Was it worth it?
Defiantly not, but I haven’t beat myself up about it like I usually would. I am human and I may slip now or then.
I caved into the chocolate chip and macadamia cookie from the Yarra Glen Bakehouse. It tasted amazing, and I lingered on every bite. About half way through I felt like it was too much for my stomach and realised in hindsight that I didn’t need it. I guess it was a want.
Detox has given me skills to live a healthier life. I know that if I eat the chicken salad, I am going to feel way better than if I eat the chicken parma. I know that if I eat a sweet, it never is as satisfying as I originally thought it would be. I know that I can run 7km’s without much training, because my body doesn’t have to deal with toxins and I know that my skin looks beautiful.
I am apoligising in advance my next slip up this week, then hopefully I won’t feel as guilty. I bought “Sex and the City” Goldclass for my sister for her 30th. I can’t very well go see a “Sex in the City” movie without having a cocktail from my recliner chair.