450 Miles To Go
So I'm now officially under sixteen stone. I admit that doesn't merit a trumpet fanfare, but let's imagine a quick blast on the kazoo. I lost four pounds last week, thanks to some lengthy walks and the determination to resist all offers of chocolate and alcohol. Instead, I've become something of a fruit-junkie. I heard Tom Morton talking about rhubarb on his show this afternoon and I ran into the nearest shop and bought some. (Luckily I'd run into a supermarket). Oh, it brought back some memories, I can tell you. I can remember stealing rhubarb from a local field and then dipping it in brown bags of sugar. I'm also the only person in my family with a passion for pomegranates.
So, after six weeks of the Five Hundred Mile Diet, I've lost 12 pounds and now weigh in at 15 stone, 13 pounds. No sign of needing smaller clothes sizes yet, but I can now button the top collar of my shirt without going purple in the face.
That's got to be progress.
