Day 5: Reverse Planking Is Still Planking, Right?
Another rest day.
And I’m actually taking this one quite seriously because tomorrow is hockey drills. 🏑
Which means running.
Actual running.
And if we’re being completely transparent here, for approximately the last 15 years, the only part of me that has consistently run is my mouth.
So I feel today’s rest is not only deserved, but medically necessary for whatever shitshow tomorrow may bring. 😂
If I survive, there will be signs of life. Probably another blog post detailing how I tripped over my own feet, peed myself slightly and reconsidered every decision that brought me to this point.
That exact scenario is currently doing circuits in my brain.
But tomorrow’s trauma is tomorrow’s problem.
Today, my uterus chose violence.
Tannie Flo is still here after arriving six days early, and apparently she woke up this morning and decided:
“You know what? Let’s try to kill her.”
She did not succeed.
It has, however, felt at times like someone is enthusiastically stabbing me in the ovaries.
Uterus: 1
Me: still fucking standing.
Well… lying down currently, but we’ll get to that.
The munchies also arrived.
And I DID NOT GIVE IN.
Breakfast was my granola and Greek yoghurt. During the day I had a sugar-free Red Bull, two air-fried chicken thighs, a cup of tea and plenty of water.
Look at me being all responsible and shit.
Then came the real test.
I went to the shop.
I walked past the brownies.
They called me.
I swear to God I heard a tiny:
“Psst… psst… Candice… over here…”
I kept walking.
Then I passed the lamingtons.
Thankfully, those little bastards were behind a refrigerated door, so their voices were muffled.
I couldn’t hear their cries to come home with me.
Instead, I bought nuts, biltong and venison drywors.
I didn’t actually realise it was venison until I got home, but I’m pretty sure I get some sort of healthy-person bonus points for accidentally buying game meat.
Brownie points, perhaps…
Oh for fuck’s sake.
THE BROWNIES ARE BACK.
😂
But tonight? I’m having a burger.
A proper, scrumptious, homemade cheeseburger.
And do I feel guilty?
Nope.
Because I made better choices today.
I walked past the sweets. I ate well. I drank my water. And right from the beginning I said this journey was never going to involve surviving on chicken, broccoli and sadness.
A homemade cheeseburger isn’t failure.
It’s supper.
And I intend to enjoy every bloody bite.
As for tonight’s exercise…
I am currently reverse planking.
For anyone unfamiliar with this highly advanced exercise, it involves lying completely flat on your back in bed and doing absolutely fuck all.
It’s something, right?
At this point, I think the actual plank and I may need couples counselling.
And actually… something is changing.
Day 5 wasn’t exciting.
There was no workout. No dramatic breakthrough. No magical transformation.
I ate reasonably well. I survived my uterus. I resisted the brownies. I’m going to eat my burger. And now I’m lying in bed.
But five days in, I’m already noticing little things.
My energy feels different. My sleep seems to be changing. My mood has been better.
Despite feeling like I’m occasionally being stabbed directly in the ovaries, I’m actually chipper.
I’m happy.
And perhaps that’s the bit worth writing about today.
Not every successful day needs to be dramatic.
Sometimes success is simply noticing that you feel a little better than you did five days ago.
So sweet dreams, everyone, and congratulations on surviving another week. ❤️
For once, I don’t feel like I’m just surviving.
I’m surviving and thriving.
And I’m starting to genuinely believe:
I can definitely do this.
Tomorrow: hockey drills. 🏑
God help me.
Day 5: Done. ❤️
Uterus: attempted murder.
Brownies: resisted.
Burger: absolutely happening.
Mood: suspiciously cheerful.
Plank: reverse edition completed successfully.
Tomorrow: we run.*
Allegedly.
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