The last couple of months have been a bit of a crazy whirlwind. Milestones are flying past at break neck speed. We’ve past the six month to go mark and in a couple of days, we reach our one year Engagey anniversary. As soon as we reached the 6 month mark, time seemed to speed up. I’m almost at the point where I can see a big Masterchef clock counting down in minutes and seconds above my head wherever I go. The Wedding train is well and truly hurtling towards us and, whilst I’m still enjoying the ride, there’s not too many more stops left before we will arrive at our matrimonial destination. Add to this overwhelming, super powered time vacuum, a new player has entered the game.
Engagey was first, my darling Engagey, so young and fun, of course we have Wedding who has been present throughout, and now we have the Moon. The Moon has been loitering for some time, existing more as a vague and fluid concept rather than something with real presence. But once Moon arrived on the scene, it certainly asserted itself in an undeniable fashion and firmly entrenched itself in our lives. Moon is amazing. It holds such promise for both of us and, at times, can overshadow even Wedding. More on Moon another time.
But the issue at hand is one I’m sure is quite common amongst most brides. We gotta whip that bridal booty into shape! Must start “Shedding for the Wedding.” For me, the moment took place over 6 months ago, in a time filled with excitement and joy - the day I found my dress. Sitting in the boutique, listening to the lady explain the details and the schedule of the dress making process, the exultation and jubilation soon turned to anxiety when she suddenly stopped, and asked me one simple question... “How are you feeling at the moment?” Easy! “I feel amazing! Overjoyed! Super excited!” I replied. “No, love….how are you feeling? As in about yourself.” Now, say this out loud whilst looking in a mirror, peering down your own nose at yourself. With a slow glance up and down that sears through your clothes and leaves you naked, ask yourself “how are you feeeeeeeeling?”
Suddenly, I felt stripped and vulnerable as my self-esteem started to seep slowly from my being. In that look she gave me, that slow scan of my body - she could see every lump, bump and dimple, she could smell the calories I’d consumed at lunch, and she immediately knew that I was a girl who was partial to a good meal and great wine, not to mention the occasional beer. I looked at MOB for support, reassurance that I hadn’t been living in some parallel universe where I was a fatty boomba. She looked back at me, sensing my panic, she understood what was going on, and gave me a nod of encouragement. Eventually I replied cautiously… “Good?” now completely unsure if that was the right answer. Well, I was good. Now I feel like shit. Ha.
“Do you plan to lose much weight or perhaps just tone up?”
“I’m not really sure…I guess I’ll tone up a bit.”
“Great well we can give you until July to do what you need to do before we take your measurements. Is that enough time for you?”
“Yep.” Shit.
So, 6 months down the track, I now have 1 month left until July when I need to walk my svelte, toned self back into that boutique for another round of ego battering. Can not wait. The problem is, how the F do I do it. I’m already quite an active person. My week looks a little bit like this. Monday 5:30pm - freestyle Spin class, Tuesday 6:00pm - RPM, Wednesday 5:30pm - Ashtanga Yoga, Thursday 5:30pm – RPM, Friday 5:00pm - Pump. Add to this, brisk walks or runs with two very lively Staffy’s 7 days a week, rain, hail or shine. There’s even the occasional Saturday morning run or another class thrown in there. At one stage, I was doing double sessions, hitting the gym up at lunch time or walking through the park when the weather permitted. I got tired of that pretty quickly.
Then I stumbled across a story about a woman who had stuck a feeding tube down her nose in order to shed a few unwanted kilos before her big day. OMG. This is pure insanity. It involves the “patients” carrying around a solution in a bag, which delivers fats, protein, and water (no carbs) through the nasogastric tube into the stomach. Patients consume about 800 calories a day, and no actual food ever passes their lips over the 10-day period.
So, whilst every bride wants to look amazing on her wedding day, it could be that last chance to show off a hot rig before it is wreaked havoc upon by childbirth or a job in administration, coupled with a stubborn metabolism that shows no signs of ever getting back to those carefree, eat what you want, nothing will happen days.
But guess what? A skeleton in a big, ill-fitting dress is not pretty, sexy or beautiful. Like marriage itself, maintaining a healthy weight is long term, there’s no quick fix, and no cheat sheet that doesn’t come without kidney damage, headaches, dizziness, vitamin deficiencies and dehydration.
Yesterday I had two chocolate biscuits.
The thing is, there’s enough to stress about other than how many calories are in a cup of green tea. The last thing anyone is ever going to think of the bride at her wedding is that she would’ve looked soooo much better carrying a little less junk in the trunk.
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