Honest Diary Of An 8 Week Challenge
56 days sounds roughBy Guest Styler | 9th April 2020
Yep, you read correctly. I, Georgina Murray, am partaking in an eight-week challenge.
It’s something I’ve toyed with in the past but never bitten the bullet, so when the opportunity came up and a few holiday rolls still hadn’t budged (why are they so obsessed with me?), I decided to just HIIT it. (See what I did there?)
I’ve joined the ranks of Newstead’s Facilities Fitness and am ready to get fresh and fit.
Although I’ve always considered myself active, over the years I’ve been better at lifting wine glasses to my mouth than lifting weights. I’ve always kept up my running, but have actually run away from the reality that it just wasn’t enough. For history’s sake, and as a teaser for a future memoir, I was never too shabby when it came to sports (B+ in the good PE class, I’ll add). I played soccer and futsal on a state level for years and was the 1999 Under Six Swimming Age Champion once upon a time.
However, after moving to Sydney for two years and finding my penchant for pasta and Pinot, the weight game was on and it was winning. Look, I consider my current figure a walking memoir of good times but I’m over it; jogging on. I want to be able to run at a half decent pace again, fit into some clothes that I miss and just generally feel better. Ya feel?
I genuinely enjoy exercise and am so excited to get started. So, with this, challenge accepted!
Task: Eight-week challenge
Location: Facilities Fitness
Goals: Run, Forest, Run // HIIT It // Prepare to nearly die
Trainers: Mitch and Terry
For the next eight weeks, I’ll be documenting my progress and experience. Join me for the break down each week (both emotionally and physically haha, kidding…I hope).
Week one has already reminded me of how much I love to exercise! And, although group classes can be super daunting, I was warmly welcomed and felt comfortable after just a few days. I’ve chosen the 5:45am classes as my go-to’s for a few reasons: practicality – it fits in nicely with work, and then of an afternoon I can do as I please without the guilts. I also really enjoy starting my day with a sweat and always have done!
Every morning was a different class which was great. From core and conditioning, to boxing and strength it was nice to mix it up. Ah yeah, I was sore. But to me, it means it’s working so I like it. The first few days it was hard to get up but it’s crazy how quickly you can get into routine. By the end of the week it felt like the norm, although, I won’t lie – I was looking forward to a Saturday afternoon nap.
Once I get into the rhythm of training, my diet naturally improves too as I don’t want it all to go to waste and this week, it was also the case. I haven’t started the supplied nutrition plan yet, but was eating a balanced diet with lots of veggies. (Mum, please re-read that sentence).
This week also featured the body scans of doom. Keyword: doom. The results were horrificccccc but indeed a motivator. It’s actually really sciencey which is great and looks at muscle-to-fat ratio etc, so it’s not all about what’s on the scales. As mum always said, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Cute.
This is where I would like to introduce you to Mitch and Terry – the two uber-fit trainers. Mitch and Terry are both so welcoming and calming which is really relieving in a gym environment! I’m not the most coordinated person, so their patience in week one was, and is, certainly appreciated. While I’m on my challenge, I think Mitch and Terry may be on one of their own… an eight-week challenge of putting up with me. Will they survive? That’s the real question.
Anyway! In a nutshell, week one was a success. In the words of Drake, I’m feeling good and livin’ better. Week two, awaits.
Week one highlights: Good sleeps, better energy and lots of gym dogs (literal dogs).
Week two means twice the thrills and twice the hills (replace hills with block runs. I just want it to rhyme, is that a crime?).
With week one ending on such a high-note, I went roaring into week two with just as much – if not more – enthusiasm. I completed seven sessions in five days and literally ran into the weekend (fine, I’ll be honest, I hobbled into the weekend. But the effort was there, okay?)
The highlight of week two – besides every inch of my body hurting – was Friday’s session. Although Fridays seem to be by farrr the hardest of the week, once it’s done, it’s the most rewarding. Arriving to the gym just as the previous class is finishing is a dangerous move though. Seeing people wanting to throw up and mutter expletives doesn’t exactly pump me up. It more provides a slight tingle of anxiety and dread knowing the 600m block runs are likely in my near future (@ my trainer: I’m not complaining, you are.) Nevertheless, I’m a sucker for a challenge and accepting I could half-die from the get-go is fab. That’s the spirit. At least I would die and have a half-cool story, right?
Food-wise this week, I stuck to my guns. Double barrelled roast chicken and vegetables were always in my arsenal and I got used to it pretty quick. Shout-out to my housemate/best friend, Jacquick, for supplying guiltless banana bread to get me by.
Summary: One glass of red wine consumed, nine work-outs survived, sore muscles, happy. Week three, what’s up?
I feel like my momentum slowed down this week. I still managed a class per day from Monday to Friday and went for a jog on the weekend, but I was on Struggle Street. Actually, scratch that – it was more like Struggle Highway and I was heading south.
Anyway, I made it to the end of the week and once there, I realised what a great week I’d had at Facilities, despite the slow start. Generally speaking, it was a tough week and I felt as though the workouts helped mentally, espesh the boxing. Speaking of the boxing classes – shout-out to whoever is partnered with me. My coordination is often so slack, I would look like an old aged moth rather than a butterfly like our pal, Ali; there was certainly no floating like a butterfly or stinging like a bee, but it was still very fun. I’m sure that’s what Sonny Liston said after his fight with Ali, too – “Ahh good job, Muhammad. What a time to be alive. It’s all a bitta’ fun innit?” – and they laughed and laughed and became the best pals ever.
Between boxing classes, I also learnt I can’t do chin-ups, even when assisted. I don’t know why I’m so shocked. I mean, I’ve never even been able to do the monkey bars. This was some great food for thought on the drive home. “Ooo, soon I’ll be able to do the monkey bars and I’ll understand what the rage was all about, circa 1999″, I said to myself as I scouted out playgrounds en route. I can just see myself frolicking through the bark, making a beeline for the bars of joy.
On another note, one win I had this week was the amount of alcohol I consumed. I won’t lie – I’m prone to a glass of red, but I truly don’t discriminate. I only had half a glass of rosé the entire week which is a feat! But, I must say, I’m getting thirsty (no, Mum, I don’t want water).
I’m still [mc] lovin’ it. Terry and Mitch may not be loving the continuous sarcasm and the “No, you straighten your legs” comments, but, like Ali, it’s all a bitta’ fun.
Summary: I feel more toned, Terry said my face is slimmer (winning), but yet to fit into my year 12 formal dress. WTF, it’s been three weeks, guys. (I’m kidding, I’ll give it to week four).
What’s eight divided by two? FOUR. (Yes, I did mean to yell.) This means more than two plus two, it means we’re half way there. Woaaah, livin’ on a prayer. Take my hand, we’ll make it I swear (you know the rest).
Both Bon Jovi, The Black Eyed Peas and James Brown were all over it – halfway is where it’s at and that’s exactly where I’m at, too. I’ve happily made it to the 50 percent mark of the challenge and am quite surprised to say I’m looking forward to the following four weeks.
I thought I’d be as desperate as Fergie by this point, begging to be met at the borderline and that’s where I was going to stay. But, I feel as though I’m more on the vibe of Fergalicious – up in the gym just working on my fitness, *Mitch and Terry* are my witness *ooo-eee*. (For those who aren’t versed on absolute bangers, I’ll list song references at the end.) Anyway, you’ve got the point!
Week four was my best yet! I managed to complete 11 sessions between Monday and Saturday, including four on Wednesday. It’s safe to say, I slept well and did a lot of washing. Challenging myself to complete as many classes as possible in the week was great and I have already set the same expectation for week five. Of course, I’m keeping in mind rest days – I’m well aware I’m not Rambo. The other thing I’ve also become well aware of this week is my coordination, or lack thereof. Turns out, friends, I cannot bear crawl backwards. I just heard you gasp from here – Surely, I, Georgina Frances Rambo Fergie Sporty Spice Sonny Liston Murray can bear crawl backwards. But alas, I simply cannot.
This is ok. I’m ok. Everything’s fine. I’ve come to terms with it. I actually came to terms with it within the second crawl and continued to stumble backwards, it would’ve been a sight of complete attractiveness and sexuality. Plus, what’s the actual importance of a backwards bear crawl anyway? I’ve never even seen a bear crawl backwards, have you? I feel like I’m on a tangent now… BACK TO GYM.
So yeah, week four was great and knowing that it’s halfway has kicked my A into G a bit more. I haven’t lost as much weight as I’ve hoped. But in saying that, I’m yet to step on the scales. I think my face is slimmer and think I’ve lost one / four chins, but I’m yet to fit into one side of my jeans like that guy on those Subway ads, circa 2004. But again, I’m only halfway. (For the record, I still call BS on those ads and that pair of jeans.)
Oh, I’ve also made friends which is a bonus. They make for a great sounding wall for complaining yet encouragement. The classes are still super fun, and the all-round Facilities vibes are at an all-time high. I can actually say I’m having a bloody fab time.
Although my gym effort was there, I have some confessions to drop, bigger than Usher’s. I have had a total of four glasses of red wine, three hot chips and a chocolate truffle in the last week. I admit it! Oh, and a snag on the barbie, but only one and without bread, it’s called balance, look it up. As I’m writing this, I have realised that perhaps that’s why chin three hasn’t moved on yet…
Week five, I’ll hopefully be saying cheerio to chin #3 and manage another 11 sessions. Mentally, I’m preparing for many block runs, burpees and squats, but I’m here for it. By week eight, I’ll hopefully be back to my prime Rod ways, with a ‘Do Ya Think I’m Sexy?’ rendition, complete with leopard print matching suit.
As promised, songs for reference: Bon Jovi – Livin’ On A Prayer; The Black Eyed Peas – Meet Me Halfway; James Brown – Got The Feeling; Usher – the complete album of Confessions; Rod Stewart – Do Ya Think I’m Sexy? (Yes Rod, yes I do.)
Hi there, it’s me. Thanks for joining me again as we continue on my eight-week challenge journey. If you haven’t read the sub heading about three centimetres above, welcome to week five.
Now the introduction’s outta the way, we can get to the goods. My intros are beginning to feel like the start of a radio show or psych session and perhaps in a sense, these could be just that. So, take a seat, tune in and turn up (the volume, or with a drink – it’s your call).
I was wracking my brain on what angle I would write this week’s inclusion. At first, I was thinking of symbolising the gym as the jungle, and I, the jungle cat. Alas, that’s got more of a week six vibe. With that, welcome to SPICE WORLD.
Monday sure did start spicy – the Ginger kind. The 5:45am class kicked-off with a hai si ja hold tight. The classes certainly stepped-up and that was just the warmup. I like to think I was the right amount fierce and the right amount chill, just like Geri Halliwell, herself. Except this time, I wasn’t going to bail out and leave everyone high and dry. I’m in for the long haul, way past Two Become One and well into Holler. (Is it still too soon to talk about Geri leaving?) Two sessions: tick!
Tuesday rolled around, and I was full Posh, Vic Becks vibes. I was sassy, I was serious and I was not ready to sweat. It was strength day and the only weight I could withhold was my own attitude. I may as well have walked behind in stilettos in a black mini dress, yelling out, “Wait up, you guys!” (please refer to the Spice World movie for reference). Safe to say, I was too Posh to push and pull any more that day; the one class had done me. Plus, as they say, “Too much of nothing, is just as tough…”
Wednesday, I peaked. Say hello to Sporty Spice *high kick*. Colours of the world, every boy and every girl, people of the world. I was ready for a double double –a double morning sesh and a double afternoon sesh. It was boxing day again and I was (mostly) hands up and ready for a left, right, goodnight. But, in true Sporty Spice mode, my high pony tail and adrenaline was in action. Unfortunately, although I’m committed to the cause, I did not pursue the barb-wire bicep tattoo, nor don a crop top and Adidas trackie pants. Disappointing, I know.
Ello, ello Baby Spice. Although my platform shoes weren’t “gym friendly”, I could’ve really used the height and had to swap them over for my usual Nikes come Thursday. And, instead of a sucking on a lollipop, I was gasping for air. The Thursday morning session wasn’t actually too bad – I quite enjoyed it if I’m being honest. I was chipper, I was eager, I was smiley – I was full Baby Spice. All I needed was a workout appropriate pink shift dress and we would’ve been good to go. Ps. stop right now, thank you very much – there was no afternoon sesh this day, and no one wants to see me working out in a pink shift dress. I don’t think anyone would want to see even Baby Spice work out in a pink shift dress? Especially if there’s burpees involved, right? I digress…
It was time to unleash the leopard of the pack – Scary Spice. Friday’s sessions, if you haven’t already gathered, are the worst and holy shiz, this one was about to spice up my life. The session was intense and I was still feeling pretty tired. I struggled, but I got through without being cross and aggressively questioning Terry, “Who do you think you are?” The session was five rounds as fast as we could consisting of: 50 sit ups, 40 squats, 30 push ups, 20 leg raises, 10 burpees and a street run. Multiply this by all by five, carry the three, divide by pi, times 11 and to the square root of WTF = hard. But, like Scary Spice would’ve, I only complained once (maybe twice) and got through it. Shout-out to my gym pal Mary for keeping me going, just say you’ll be there next Friday, too.
What do you get when you have five Spice Girls but six days of workouts? An ensemble. Saturday was another double session which brings me to another grand total of 11 sessions in six days – Viva forever, am I right? I’m not here to make headlines, but I was pretty happy to hit the mark for the second week in a row, even if I didn’t make the Facilities insta (probably for the best if I’m being honest as I’m certainly not Posh when working out). Saturdays are great in the gym – everyone’s happy and there’s full good vibes. It’s also super nice to start off the weekend with a sweat and know there’s a guilt-free nap coming in hot.
In conclusion, the Spice Girls have a great discography, I ended the week very tired and super sore, but ready to try and get to 12 sessions in week six. I also felt as though this week I had toned up a little, which is great news to my new jeans I’m yet to wear. All that’s left to say is, a-zig-a-zig-ahhh and if you wanna be my lover, please DON’T get with my friends.
*cue intense banging of drums*
Welcome to the jungle – week six.
Last week, the Spice Girls came, they saw, they worked out. But this week, there’s a new cowboy in town. More precisely, jungle cat in the…well, jungle.
Just as I dabbled within last week’s inclusion, this week will be set in the depths of the wilderness where vines link rogue trees to poison ivy, grass has grown unruly and animals hide amongst the ancient fauna. This. Is. Facilities.
How’s that intro for you? Enough drama? Now you’re in the zone, welcome to my week six recap of the eight-week challenge. This week, I tasked myself to complete 12 classes and, boy, oh, boy, although it was a challenge (keyword), I gone, did and done it.
The classes at the beginning of the week set the tone of what was to come: sweat, and lots of it. I mean, the jungle gets heated in more ways than one. Let’s start off with Monday Morning…
In order to be agile and stealthy in the depths of the jungle, one must have a good core and we’re not talking a layman’s apple core. We’re talking the core of the trunk – the Neanderthal trunk to be precise – a lot of which I am lacking. I’m sure my core is in there somewhere, buried for safety behind insulation, otherwise known as chub.
Anyway, after what felt like 10000 sit ups, I lifted my shirt expecting to see a six pack and all I saw was a six pack of carton wine that still hasn’t budged. So many sixes: week six, six pack, six wines… need I say what the number of the beast is?
Boxing on Monday afternoon is where my inner jungle cat was unleashed and came out to prowl. No, I’m certainly not queen of the jungle as of yet, but really noticed my technique and boxing fitness had improved! I should be in the ring in no time; just need to land on an entry song as I don’t know if Rod Stewart will have the fierce undertones I need. I’m thinking more Survivor by Destiny’s Child, Anaconda by Nicki or Mike Tyson’s rendition of Bangkok? Open to suggestions.
Tuesday was strength day – both mentally and physically, ya feel? As the weeks continue, the classes adjust to become more challenging and Tuesday was on point with a circuit of weight exercises. This included sleds, which is great if we’re in for an Ice Age, as I can flip the switch from a jungle cat to a snow leopard.
For the third Wednesday in a row, I did a quadruple day I refer to as a double double, and it was tough! A boxing class and a HIIT class in the AM and again in the PM, in true form of Christina Milian (somebody hit the lights, so we can rock it day and night). The boxing classes are my favourite and this Wednesday we honed in on ducking and weaving – something I’m good at out of the ring in terms of reality, but yet to nail with gloves on. The HIIT class finished me off realll good and this time I really did feel like Sonny Liston after the Ali fight.
Fast forward to death day, otherwise known as Friday. This is when the best of the worst and worst of the best from the jungle is on show; the animals congregate around the watering hole seeing herds hurting and prides with pride. This instance, it was a race against time with blockruns, burpees, push-ups, sit ups, kettle bell swings and more in play. My time? 28 minutes. For some reason, I hadn’t felt like I had enough of a beating and returned for round two. Living off the land (eating a banana) as prep, I beat my time and completed the session in 25 minutes.
Saturday morning, I entertained the idea of lying in bed all day, but, alas, I’m a sucker for punishment and hit a HIIT and strength class. As part of the challenge, Facilities host ‘Activity Saturdays’, but it really should be called ‘Activity Satur-yays’. This Saturday saw us moving from the jungle to the sand with beach volley ballin’. To put simply, I don’t think it’s the sport for me – my t-rex length arms aren’t ideal accessories when it comes to getting the ball over the net and sand gets everywhere. Everywhere.
So, do I feel any different after six weeks of the above? Yes! I feel more toned, energetic and socially fulfilled. My work pals have been complimenting me which is major encouragement that’s it’s actually working and my clothes are fitting a little bit nicer…but I’m still no Ari Grande, yet! I spoke with Mitch about this who kindly analysed my day-to-day eating habits and suggested modifications which I’ve already put in play and helped me feel better. TY for the help, Mitchelly. Hearing the words “you may not be eating enough”, was one of the best sentences I think I’ve ever heard, other than “you’re the funniest person I know”, and “Rod Stewart is touring and wants you to be VIP”.
Before I wind-up (I can hear your sigh of relief from here), I will leave you with a text from my dad. I promised him after he texted it to me three times, phoned once and followed-up thrice, that I’d include it. (Not that he’d know if I included it or not, as he doesn’t know how to get onto the “inter web thing”.)
You’re welcome, dad.
In summary: 12 classes completed, jeans are feeling looser, push-ups are becoming easier!
See ya in week slavin’ seven.
Week seven was an interesting week to say the least and I’m talking on behalf of us all here. The ‘rona regulations are now in full force which of course means gyms are closed. This is obviously really disappointing as we’re only a week out from finishing the challenge, but more so because of the social environment the gym provided and the affects it will have on Mitch and Terry as business boys.
In saying this, I must also emphasise the fact we’re all healthy and have otherwise been unaffected by coronavirus which is a blessing in itself. We’re fortunate to live in a country where health importance is paramount and we have a system that’s doing what they can to stop the spread…even if this does mean gyms close temporarily.
However! In classic Mitch and Tez style, the boys bounced back just like Big Sean and instantly launched their virtual classes. Alternating between dynamic camera guy and sufferer/client, Mitch and Terry filmed every workout live in the AM and PM. This way, we could all follow the workouts, feel the vibes and ensure we were doing the exercises correctly. This also means we can go back to it at anytime and re-watch the sessions and low-key verse Mitch and Terry in times, reps and sweat. No gym equipment needed, just work-out appropriate jarmies. In the words of the boys – you gotta’ home? You gotta’ gym.
Week seven began.
The boys were ready, I was ready. My loungeroom and balcony neighbourinos however, were not (sorry ‘bout it to the people of Fortitude Valley).
Monday morning’s class was just like a normal sesh at the gym as I followed Mitch and Terry via Facebook Live through the workout. It’s actually quite good to see them suffering as much as we do (boys, I say that with love). My core was crunched and the couch called my name for a quick nap before work (the beauty of loungeroom workouts).
Every morning I joined in the Facebook workouts and it hurt my little heart in all the good ways to see everyone else still joining in and chatting amongst ourselves as well as seeing Mitch and Terry sweat up a storm – have I mentioned they’re doing the workouts with us and suffering just as much? Because they are and it’s great.
Although the morning workouts felt as normal as possible, I definitely missed the boxing and afternoon classes. To mix it up a bit I decided to work on my running abilities and finished off the day with a jog or walk with a pal along Teneriffe…with the rest of Brisbane. Teneriffe was tene-rrific with people traffic, but still so worth it.
Each day the workouts got harder and happier as Mitch and Terry also adapted to our new norm. Mitch’s dancing is something else and I now await hood-boy Zumba classes to become part of the schedule.
Saturday rolled around and as Sco-mo allowed, we were back in the park (evenly spaced, no contact and small classes, if government spies are reading). It was SO nice to be back with the team, sweating in the sunshine. If we were in a musical no doubt the “sunshine, lollipops, rainbows blah blah blah” song would’ve been the soundtrack with a quick LMFAO “I work out” sound bite for a ricca-ricca, remixxxxxxxx.
All in all, the world is weird right now and the challenge and overall gym environment for week seven despite the circumstances was better than ever. I’m extremely proud of Mitch and Terry and how they’ve adapted to the sitch’ and kept everyone encouraged, fit and healthy.
Week seven done, with one more week to go! Pew, pew, pew! I’m excited and feeling fitter and more toned than ever. I’m also very much looking forward to pizza. I’m yet to weigh myself and try on some sacred clothing to see how much I’ve lost. Bets on?
Seven days to go – perhaps week eight needs to be a rendition of Craig David’s Seven Days banger? I think yes.
“O-V-A-H, mum. It’s over!” said Kim to Kath Day-Knight about her marriage. As did I, to my mum, about the 8-week challenge.
Yes, the challenge is over! Eight weeks of me up in the gym dropping like it’s hot heavy, sweating up a storm and you (maybe?) reading along. What a journey we’ve been on. Do you feel like we’re closer? I do. Before we get started on the finale, let’s take a trip down memory lane, shall we?
*Cue The Final Countdown by Europe* There I was, week one: quiet, observant and unsure if I would last the eight weeks without pizza and regular red wines. I started the 5:45am classes, began eating better and feeling the difference. I had the initial body scans of doom which really sparked my motivation. To quote myself and Drake, I was feeling good and livin’ better.
Week two, my body was hurting in all the good ways – the burpees must’ve started working!? I realised the block runs were a regular occurrence and not simply a one-off but continued to stick to the routine.
Momentum slowed slightly in week three, but that didn’t last long. I recall being on Struggle Highway but still hit the pedal to the metal. This is when Terry mentioned my face was slimmer (what a moment in our friendship) and I channelled my inner Sonny Liston – end of the Ali fight and all. I explored playgrounds and pondered monkey bars.
Woahh I was halfway there, livin’ on a prayer – I made it to week four! In this week I learnt I couldn’t (and for the record, still can’t) bear crawl backwards, my brain contains a wide discography, I can make friends even when clumsily lunging and I added a few more syllables to my title becoming: Georgina Frances Rambo Fergie Sporty Spice Sonny Liston Murray. That should really explain it all?
Welcome to SPICE WORLD, AKA week five. I channelled a Spice Girl each day to help kick my A into G and completed 11 sessions within the week. This is when I really started to feel a change and my motivation kept rolling.
Speaking of rolling, let’s just fast forward to week eight! Week six and seven can be simply summed-up with banging drums, 1000 sit-ups and the introduction of corona-cardio. Let’s get to the goods.
Now, here we are…the end of week eight. How ’bout that huh. Sco-mo locked us down tighter than Tom Cruise locked-down Katie Holmes in 2005 and shut-down all boot camps faster than Skepta shut down London Fashion Week. This meant it was all up to me and my internal motivation to finish the challenge (the encouragement from Bre, Jill and Fef also helped too, I might add. You know who you are).
I must confess (just like Britney, bitch), my healthy eating habits slightly swayed on the Monday with a G&T and carbonara, which was more like carb-oh-na-raaaaa because it made me feel a little sick (my body is just such a temple now). But, after only a small glitch, I was back at it. I kept up the morning virtual workouts with Mitch and Terry every day and incorporated walks and runs in the evening. Friday rolled around which marked the official last day of the challenge which meant…pizza party! It was delish and worth every calorie. However! I was back at it on Saturday. The last week of the challenge flew by and I was quite sad to see it end.
Now, unfortunately, this should be the time the drum rolls and I reveal my stats on how much weight I lost, and muscle gained etc. But, due to the coronavirus precautions, we can’t do our final scans until the risk has passed. With that, I’m going to keep on keeping on with the workouts and healthier eating habits…just with a few added glasses of wine when needed.
In summary, I loved the challenge. I feel better, I’m more toned, I have more energy and I generally love the whole package of what the challenge brings. I’m going to keep going and slide right on into another eight-week challenge and keep training with Facilities. I can’t stop now, right!? If you read this, thank you. If you complimented me on my efforts and loss of chin, thank you. And if I ever was sassy because I was tired and hangry, I apologise.
Eventually, once we’re able to do the scans (and the results are actually positive), I’ll add them below. Georgie Murray, out. (Is it only me, or do you feel emotional, too? I’m not crying. You’re crying.)