Wednesday 10 March 2010

Now, Let's Try This Again

So where were we?

I woke up Saturday morning – three days post-binge – feeling somewhat close to normal, but slightly anxious. After all, I had three parties to attend (one Saturday afternoon, one Saturday night, and one Sunday afternoon), two of which were going to involve sure-to-be-amazing baked goods and champagne, both of which I love.

I'd already decided I wasn't drinking at either of Saturday's parties because I was running a 10K race through London's new Olympic Park on Sunday morning. I also knew this would be a challenge, since Saturday afternoon's party was a girly cakes and champagne birthday for a friend, and that everyone else would be indulging full-speed ahead. I knew my abstemiousness (is that a word?) would draw comments (it did), and I hate being the center of attention like that. I hate seeming about as fun as an unmarinated lump of tofu.

I knew the cakes Saturday would be of the pre-bought variety, and had decided I'd only indulge if there was something worth it. And there was: Lola's Cupcakes. Only before it came around to 4 pm – my usual snack time, which is when I planned to dig in -- all the vanilla ones were eaten. The hostess wanted me to eat a banana or strawberry one (ew) but I just wanted a vanilla one with its inch-high cap of frosting ("too much frosting to cake," complained a couple of the girls), and I didn't want to eat several hundred calories out of politeness. Actually, it would likely have been several thousands, because eating calorie-laden treats I don't really want is one surefire binge trigger. (Of course, I was still stuck with guilt about being rude – in my head or otherwise – and never being invited again, both of which are also a binge trigger. You never can win, can you?)

I was unreasonably grumpy about the cupcake – like the world was against me. I thought (very briefly) about bingeing, and then about how crummy I'd feel all day Sunday if I did. I teetered on the brink. I escaped to the bathroom to remove myself from cake-view, and also to calm myself down. (Like I said, unreasonably angry.) I texted Peridot, who I knew would understand. She did. She promised – post-10k -- to bring me a brownie from the batch she'd baked.

I thought about going to Selfridges Monday to buy a Lola's cupcake, but then thought (in frustration) that I couldn't, because I'd likely eat some kind of cake today, brownie post-race and cakes at parties tomorrow, and then out to a big dinner with Friend Bearing Chocolate (visiting from Istanbul) on Monday, which is already plenty of indulgence. Plus I've got crappy (but very caloric) military rations Wednesday and Thursday for a training exercise I'm doing...

I had a meringue with some cream and jam and a couple of figs and eyed some homebaked fairy cakes with non-buttercream frosting (a poor substitute, in my mind, for Lola's). And I stayed until after 9 pm, laughing and hanging out. I skipped Party No. 2, (a) because it was in Clapham and Party No. 1 was in east London and I'd first have to go home to change, (b) because by the time I got there I'd probably have to leave, and (c) because Nice Cambridge Jew had warned me it was going to be a crazy party, and it just would have been too tempting to give in.

Woke up Sunday, did my race (very cool to run into an Olympic stadium, even if it is unfinished! When else will I ever have that experience?), met Peridot and her boyfriend for handover of Best. Brownie. Ever. Then off to Party No. 3, where again there were vanilla cupcakes (this time homemade) with loads of frosting – and again, before I got to them, they were gone. I almost went crazy waiting for the birthday cake to be cut so I could grab a slice -- even though I didn't much fancy the marzipan icing on it, I still ate it (and felt slightly resentful that the slice I'd been handed looked smaller than other people's). Then a friend spotted a vanilla cupcake in the kitchen and I inhaled it in about four bites, hoping no one would see me. I could feel myself surrendering to a binge, and then stopped and thought: This does not have to be. Just because you ate an extra cupcake does not mean you have to eat several thousand extra calories on top of that, and then feel crummy for the rest of the night and possibly all day tomorrow.

This does not have to be, I repeated to myself. And it wasn't.

I got home at 8 pm, sober, happy – and very hungry for dinner. I told myself if I really wanted the Cupcake That Got Away I could go buy one on Monday. It's Wednesday and the urge frankly hasn't been pressing enough (it hasn't been there at all, actually). Score for me versus binge this weekend, 1-0. Six days clean.

4 comments:

  1. well played beth! you're a star.

    i think i've found my cupcake comrade... only vanilla and buttercream will do :)

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  2. Yeah - I've been slightly tempted by vanilla cupcakes recently but luckily the local shop that sells gorgeous looking homemade ones only sells them in packs of 4 big ones and I'm not doing that!!!

    Well done for stepping away from the binge, that is fantastic stuff.

    Have fun walking with Peridot and the labs!

    Lesley x

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  3. Woooooooo whooooooooo!!!!! You are amazing! Fantastic save, Beth! So glad to hear of your triumph. :)

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  4. Well done - I would have eaten every flavour and then bitched about it for sure because despite consuming a gazillion calories, wouldn't have got the taste I wanted. Good for you for being made of sterner stuff (that's why you have such weeny hips I guess!)

    love
    Peridot x

    PS You're nothing like tofu - marinated or otherwise (bland, disgusting pointless stuff that it is)

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