Well what an awesome weekend we just had…honestly, if laughing was an olympic sport we would have had every place on the podium. I will forever look back at the weekend and smile – the messy and highly inappropriate Friday afternoon session where we worked our way through the extensive cocktail menu in the lido lounge as we set sail across a very choppy sea is one highlight. The Salty Dog cocktail which tasted of feet was particularly memorable.
The Friday evening dinner followed by super-cheesy jazz hands entertainment with more than a few singers who wouldn’t have been able to hit a note if their lives had depended on it was hilarious. The open-top bus tour of Dublin in the wind yesterday was good fun especially since one of our gang was trying to sleep off the excesses of Friday night on the back seat, and mooching around the Christmas markets was very festive…it’s just been epic, all of it.
I’m very happy to report that even with Singapore Slings and Whisky Sours running through my veins I wasn’t tempted to renege on the deal where my food plan was concerned and that’s one of the things I will look back on with immense satisfaction. I did it! I made a plan, and I stuck to it. Which, you know to Joe Average is sort of normal, nothing to write home about. For me, it still feels like a major achievement when it’s related to making skinny choices.
We came out of the Christmas markets area yesterday with the intention of flagging a taxi back to the ship, which we could just about see in the distance. I heard someone say the words why don’t we just walk? and as I looked around to see who’d made such a ridiculous suggestion, I saw five friends with their mouths open staring at me, and realised it was me. I’d suggested that. WTF is that all about?
So we did. It was about two and a half miles in the end, according to my wrist bitch, which to be fair I almost had to reboot – her internal micro chip came close to meltdown. On a daily basis she’s used to giving me a virtual kick up the hiney with encouraging messages like Come on, you’re an eighth of the way towards your daily move target! and Don’t give up now, just another nine thousand steps to go! Yesterday I’d swear there was a touch of hysteria when she announced You have reached your daily move target! When she realised I’d doubled it she was verging on emotional.
I was so knackered when we got back – I was footsore and my Ugg boots had rubbed blisters on my heels, but I did it. It was the kind of thing a normal person would do you know? I felt awesome. Well, to be more accurate I felt awesome after I’d made it as far as the ship’s spa for an emergency pedicure and foot massage, which I figured I’d earned 🙂 You know as I reflect back to my holiday in August when every step was agony, when I spent the time on shore excursions looking for a place to sit and rest my 300lb+ body and walking was something I was major-league struggling with it served as another sharp reminder of exactly how far I’ve come over the last four months.
It’s a good job – remember I said I was looking around for my longer term fitness challenge..? I’ve seen it…I know what I want to do.
If it doesn’t challenge you, it doesn’t change you, right? Watch this space 🙂
