🟣 The cake that ruined Christmas

It was cold enough to freeze my nips off.

I was walking back from the local carol concert on Christmas Eve with my Great Aunt Noreen, who had promised tea and Christmas cake to really kick off the festivities in aggressively festive cheer.

This cake was meant to be divine. Her next-door neighbour had baked it from scratch because he couldn’t afford gifts that year. He was dead proud of it and asked us to let him know if it hit the spot.

We got to her cottage and, as she hobbled through the door, we heard it.

“WOOODY

NO

BAD DOG

BAD BLOODY DOG”

Now, you didn’t know Noreen. It would be weird if you did.

But she was gloriously batty. The Mad Hatter would’ve looked like a boring damp sock next to her.

And her prized 12-year-old King Charles Cavalier had got hold of the cake and mashed it into the carpet.

“GO INSIDE. DON’T LOOK.”

She shut herself in the living room to salvage whatever dignity the cake had left.

Emerging 10 minutes later holding a small, misshapen core of sponge, generously coated in dog hair and carpet residue that likely predated my birth.

“TRY IT,” she demanded.

“With love, Noreen, absolutely fucking not,” was the unified response from the Henley family.

She scoffed at us, took a bite, and made light work of the grime-infested thing.

“OoooOOOooo. Bloody LOVELY. I must tell Eric how LOVERLY this cake is.”

(Eric, if you’re reading this, sorry I lied to you and said I tried the cake. I hope you understand x)

This is one of my favourite Christmas memories. I’m grinning like a tit just writing this.

Because the best stories are never the polished ones where everything goes to plan.

They’re the ones where things go up shit’s creek.

No good story ever starts with a damn salad does it??

And I think this gets completely lost in the self-improvement world.

Yes, change usually requires doing hard things.

Showing up when it’s boring.

Following routines with training and nutrition so you’re consistent enough to see progress.

There’s value in discipline. There’s value in saying no sometimes.

But it can’t be all the time.

There are moments where stepping outside your normal routine and just living is the whole damn point.

For a lot of people, Christmas is exactly that.

I used to stress my bollocks off over the festive week convinced all my progress would go in the shitter. Eating out of routine. Gyms shut. No structure. Cue guilt, panic, and far too much mental energy wasted on “falling off track”.

Now, 10+  years into training? I see it very differently.

I’m relentlessly consistent about 80-90% of the time. And because of that, the other 10-20% barely impacts and so I’d rather use that time to actually live.

If you’re feeling anxious heading into the festive period, here’s what I’d hold onto.

There’s value in being mindful so you FEEL good.

Eating to satisfaction and joy rather than being stuffed and guilty.

Moving your body to NOURISH it, not punish it.

But if you have a week where you prioritise memories over macros?

That’s not failure - it’s the joy of having a damn life outside of fitness.

And just like you didn’t build your progress in a single week. You’re not going to lose it in one either.

Sometimes the thing that keeps you consistent long-term is giving yourself permission to enjoy the messy, dog-hair-on-the-cake moments.

Have a great week

Big love

Rachel