Hazel’s House is an online clothing store based in New Zealand. When she’s not attempting to source exclusive brands at non-exclusive prices, Hazel sometimes writes blog posts…
Day One: Monday July 1st
Dry July, what a good idea. How many more of these two day hangovers can I cope with? Not many I hear you say. Not when I am trying to work two full time jobs. My liver is jumping for joy inside my abdomen. I’m not a big drinker, but I am a binge drinker. I’m like a 16 year old stuck in a 36 year old’s body, my idea of fun is drinking Blue Hawaii from the bladder like it’s going out of fashion. It did go out of fashion, and that’s a shame.
Speaking of wine cooler, if it was sunny, and I was pool side, I would murder a West Coast right now. And by a West Coast I mean a carton of…
I weighed myself today Diary, and I think the (very) early morning trips to a variety of fast food establishments have taken their toll. There has been movement on the Weight Watchers state of the art digital scale – in an undesirable direction. It’s time to try something new: intermittent fasting.
Is it wise to commence two new “challenges” on the same day? Probably not.
“Intermittent fasting, what is this?” I hear you ask my dear Diary. Well, I’ve done some research, and by research I mean I Googled “benefits of intermittent fasting” because no one wants to know the negatives when embarking on something that is going to make you look hashtag:fabulous.
Basically you cram whatever you can into your gob for an 8 hour period and then you’re nil by mouth for the next 16 hours. Well that’s one method, and the one that sounds the easiest, so I’ve gone with option A. Why over estimate your ability to take the hard road when there’s an easy road?
Day one has been relatively easy Diary, I have a feeling that’s because my entire digestive tract is jammed with the 7/8 of a cheese and bacon loaf that I accidentally consumed yesterday. 10:30 rolled around and I was hungry, but I wasn’t starving – let the fun begin!
To be fair, I didn’t binge. I tried to eat hashtag:cleanfoods and hashtag:wholefoods. I also drank 3 litres of soda with fresh lime. Like a makeshift mojito, only not, because it’s Dry July and mojitoes aren’t allowed.
I managed to stay sober for the whole day. Although that’s a matter of opinion, because due to my impaired liver function, there was probably enough residual vodka in my bloodstream from Saturday night’s celebrations to cause some issues when operating heavy machinery.
I arrived home to the flat I share with my parents at 18:00, 30 minutes before cut off. Somehow, while trying to force as much food down my oesophagus as possible, I lost track of time, and before I knew it, it was 18:47. I’d fallen at the first hurdle. I found myself at a cross roads: continue to binge until 21:30, or step away from the food? That was when the clouds parted, and a voice from heaven said “step away from the food”. Although, that might have been dad yelling from the lounge…
Unfortunately it’s my turn to take lunch tomorrow Diary, and so I roasted some vegetables to make a quinoa salad (hashtag:sopaleorightnow). If I could have had a drink for every time my hand was intercepted half way to my mouth, holding a tasty balsamic glazed morsel, I would have been quite pissed by bed time.
Never to fear, here I am, one day down, dry, and about to commence fasting period number one.
Day Two: Tuesday July 2nd
The alarm sounded at 05:40, I looked at the clock, confused, my alarm was set for 05:45. What on earth could have woken me 5 minutes early? The rumbling from my digestive enzymes, that’s what! Jeepers George, I was starving!!
I fought through the hunger barrier with the aid of some pre-workout stimulants that may or may not be banned in the near future due to irreversible liver damage and the increased incidence of heart attacks (congenital defects only though, so I’ll be sweet).
I had a meeting at 11am, and thought that I could squeeze in some scramble, but alas, it wasn’t to be. Prepping the scramble did make me late for my meeting, which meant running from one side of the venue to the other. I felt like a long distance runner in the Olympics, and pretty sure I burnt the same calories. In my head I looked like a cheetah, but to those passing by on Heaphy Terrace, I probably resembled a warthog. I was so hungry when I got back to the office, that when I ate my (cold) scrambled eggs I would have resembled a hyena.
I was in panic mode when I arrived home at 18:25, there was “nothing to eat” in the house. I’m not gonna lie, there were tears. Thank goodness for personal chefs. Mum whipped up some high carb delicacy, breaking the no-white-at-night rule, but it had to be done. Anything is excusable pre-fast.
Day Five: Friday July 5th
I am too weak from fasting to write. Just kidding! By this morning Diary, not eating until 10:30 was a piece of cake. Literally. I had a piece of cake. Cos I can. The afternoon was a busy one, so I didn’t think too much about forcing food into my mouth in time for the 18:30 curfew.
I’ll admit Diary that I did feel robbed when wine time didn’t roll around, it’s an imperative part of my Friday. I comforted myself by completing my 6th litre of soda water. There were some abstinence issues at the Hazel’s House party Diary, but that was more around the cheese and crackers on offer, than the cider.
I got home late and opened the fridge, just to check that the light was still working. Mum and dad are going away and I don’t want to have to deal with any unnecessary maintenance issues in their absence. Light is good.
Day Seven: Sunday July 7th
This morning I awoke, in a warm bed, with a warm body next to me. I had an uneasy sensation Diary, an anxious anticipation, I was waiting for the hangover that wasn’t coming. JL and I lay still for a while, and realised that we had no idea what people did on a Sunday if they weren’t hungover…
RL joined the party and we quickly deduced two things;
1. Going to a BYO Thai restaurant is nowhere near as much fun when sober
2. We probably weren’t going to survive 4 and a bit weeks of sobriety so a 40 week pregnancy was definitely not an option
We went to the mall and I had to break the fast prematurely. Dinner wasn’t eaten until 10pm the previous night, but try as I might I couldn’t hold off until 2pm…10 pieces of sushi and 1kg of grapes later…
I arrived home late, via KFC. Who does that? Not I! But there I was, needing to rebel, to fight back against the fasting and the dryness. You’re only fooling yourself. That’s what you’re saying isn’t it Diary?
Well, it gets better, Debs had made rst prk for dinner. That’s what the text said anyway. Not usually a fan of crackle, but the floodgates had opened, and before I knew it, 9 pieces were rammed into my mouth. At once.
I’ll blame the crackle on the cats Diary, but the potatoes, pumpkin and yams? Who will be my fall guy for those?
Day Ten: Wednesday July 10th
Today I have arrived in the office with a box of soda water and a large bag of limes. I have tricked my colleagues and the cleaners into thinking that this is a medicinal gall bladder cleanse. They are unaware of the fasting as I fear this may lead to copy cat crimes.
I have been too preoccupied thinking about what I’ll wear to the Beyonce concert to think about my first meal of the day, but if you insist Diary, I can tell you that it will gluten free chia seed bread, cottage cheese, spinach and smoked salmon (hashtag:breakthefast hashtag:clean hashtag:paleoplusbread hashtag:thirtyisthenewtwenty hashtag:dryjuly hashtag:doingitformyhealth).
It’s day ten Diary and I am doing sssooooooo well. Can’t wait to put before and after pics on Facebook. Just not sure which bikini to wear for my after shot…gosh, I hope this blog doesn’t become a pro-ana site…