Ordering a glass of wine felt like a drug deal

For some time now I have been desperate to get away. The stresses in various areas of my life have been piling up and I needed to press reset.

We decided to book a weekend away, combining a mini-break with seeing Lovely Girl #1 who is currently in her first term at Uni.

The second lockdown was announced after we’d booked a hotel in the centre of Oxford. We debated whether we should go, but we would be home before the new rules came into effect. It seemed that if we didn’t take the opportunity then we probably wouldn’t have the chance to see our daughter in the near future.

After arriving yesterday morning I had a lovely day shopping, hanging out and having a socially distanced walk with my girl. It was just what I needed.

Dinner was uninspiring. I picked my way through the menu and the best that I could come up with was ‘steak, no chips, no sauce with broccoli and roasted beetroot, no butter’. It was fine and I was feeling quite pleased with myself that I’d side-stepped the chips (which is always harder than it sounds).

We’d had an early dinner and walking back to the hotel I really felt like a glass of wine. I was on holiday for goodness sake and if I couldn’t loosen the reins a little whilst I was on holiday then what was the point? (I had a mental image of the puritanical Miriam Margolyes in Blackadder booming “…Nathanial sits on a spike and I sit on Nathanial. Two spikes would be an extravagance.”)

I think that one of the reasons that I have been able to remain fairly consistent with the sensible food and exercise is that I haven’t put myself under pressure to stick to unbreakable rules. My calories aren’t counted; my portion sizes aren’t controlled and if I want to eat something I “shouldn’t” then I take responsibility for it, photograph it and enjoy it.

The previous two decades of failing to lose weight have been all about being unable to stick to impossible rules. I’m not going to put myself through that again.

There are plenty of blogs out there about giving up alcohol and this isn’t one of them, but it has been an important factor in my journey. I am certain that I would not have lost as much body fat if I had still been knocking back the vino.

Walking in the dark last night I debated the implications. If I had a glass of wine and enjoyed it, would it put me back on the road to Lushville? Alternatively, if I didn’t like it, would it mean that I would never drink again?

It felt like a really huge decision.

Stepping through the door of the 17th century hotel the warmth of the glowing fire kissed my cold cheeks. The room was strewn with piles of pumpkins and I thought that there was nothing I would like more than to sit by the fire with my husband, glass of wine in hand laughing and talking nonsense.

So I did.

I chose my wine carefully and settled upon a Pinot Noir from Marlborough, New Zealand; I also ordered some cheese. If I was going down it would be in a blaze of glory (for which read ‘runny nose and headache’).

As I placed the order my heart was pounding, partly because it felt illicit and partly in anticipation.

The first sip was ok. Not as unpleasant as it is when you taste wine as a child; but not as amazing as the first sip when you are in the habit of drinking. It was a lovely wine but my palate was unused to the alcohol. I bravely mowed through.

The cheese/wine combo was amazing and by the end of the 175ml first glass I was giggly and happy. In the glow of the fire I ordered another.

As I sit here this morning I am exceptionally grateful for my good sense not to have a third glass. I fell asleep quickly last night but had a fitful night. This morning my head feels fuggy and mildly headachy.

On reflection what I’ve learnt is that I simply don’t enjoy wine as much as I used to; that the relaxation is not worth the headache and the giggly feeling does not outweigh the detrimental impact on my training.

I’m glad that I drank last night and although I’ll never say never, I probably won’t do it again any time soon. The interesting outcome is that in future, my sobriety will be a positive choice rather than an imposed rule to be railed against. I feel like I’ve reset my relationship with alcohol and this time I’m in control.

The tragic truth is that the buzz that I used to get from a few glasses of wine is nowhere near as good as the high of a really hard training session.