Avoiding the Freebies

Day Eight

Then: 15 stone 5 pounds (215 lbs)
Now: 15 stone 0 pounds (210 lbs)

Oh dear. Added two pounds since yesterday. This could be down to one of three things. It was either

1. the stuffing at yesterday’s hog roast, or
2. Dukan is right that the first day of eating salad induces excessive water retention, or
3. the fact that I weighed myself at 4 in the morning rather than at 9am as usual because I had to catch an absurdly early flight to Bristol to this BBC meeting.

The early departure meant I couldn’t enjoy (if that’s the right word) my daily dose of oatbran. In the airport’s executive lounge I normally consume a couple of free croissants with butter and marmalade and a huge cappuccino. I love a freebie, and the fact that I have a pass to the lounge means that I can’t bear to fly without grazing through it. I have a whole cupboard at home with tiny bottles of hotel conditioner in it. I don't use conditioner.

I made do with a small espresso and then, realizing I was flying Easyjet and the only edible option on board was likely to be the “ham and cheese melts” (see my Blog From The North on this one), decided I had to eat something to keep the hunger at bay.

That’s when I spotted the Special K 88-calories-only bar. We’ve all seen the impossibly glamorous girl in the red leotard consuming them happily in the commercial breaks and I decided that, although I was a long way off wearing the leotard (red was never my best colour), they clearly hadn’t done her any harm. Tearing open the packet I devoured it in about three seconds, then felt the sugar rush. I looked at the ingredients then wished I hadn’t. It appeared to have all the ingredients of my oats and yoghurt breakfast, including the yoghurt coloured icing on the top. But the sugar kept me going till lunchtime.

Thankfully, the BBC didn’t book Pizza Express last night: that would have been a temptation too far. Instead, they led us to Goldbrick House, which sounds like a Social Security building, but is in fact a very nice, almost club-like restaurant with what looked like very good food. Well, the menu was good, but the only thing I was allowed was smoked salmon with a poached egg on top and Chicken and root vegetables. Once I’d pushed all the tantalising vegetables to the side and scraped the hollandaise off the egg, my meal looked very small compared to everyone else’s: most had gone for the belly pork or the risotto or fishcakes. Large quantities of wine were consumed. I slunk out early, too full of water to join in.

I know this diet is working, because I actually had no desire to have a glass of wine and, more important, when I went to bed in my hotel room, I didn’t touch the free biscuits in the tea-making facility. Both are real signs that something big is happening (or, rather, not quite so big as before).