The Day Before D-Day: another diet looms

Diet Day: -1 

Now: 220 lbs (15st 10lbs)

Easter Day.  

In accordance with tradition, Izzy and I began eating chocolate Easter eggs from dawn. I think I am hooked on Green and Black's 70%.  I then had toast for breakfast - homemade, scrumptious wholewheat and sourdough. Unfortunately I couldn't decide between my wholewheat and my sourdough, so I had a slab of both, with lashings of butter and Oxford marmalade. And freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. 

Easter Day in England means a lunch of whole shoulder of lamb, marinated with olive oil, garlic, coriander seeds, rosemary and thyme; and tiny potatoes, and sweet, sweet parsnips, roasted in butter till they taste of candy; and sweet potato mixed with carrots, onions, garlic and oil. And very good Chateauneuf du Pape, by the flagon. 

Afterwards, steeped in wine and staggering from too much food, we went to see a kids show with Izzy and 3000 other children, and Granny bought us ice creams. Big ones. 

By sunset, Jo and I had made a pact. We're going to LA at the end of the month, so we've agreed to lose some serious weight, particularly because her brother Josh is getting married again. That'll be his third - together he and I are Henry VIII, six wives in total. But this time, it's different. 

Josh's new lovely wife Melissa is a dietician. So the poor bloke, thanks to their whirlwind courtship, is already half the man he once was. He's never looked so well, and he even looks happy. Half size is good for him. 

Unfortunately, this means Jo and I will be standing beside him in the wedding group on April 28th, my girth immortalised in the family photo album. I think not. 

So, fearful once more of the power of the photographer, we have been inspired to get thin. In just four weeks. 

But first, last night we had to deal with all that wonderful leftover lamb sitting in the fridge, and the remaining half a loaf of crusty homemade bread. My wife is, without doubt, the finest sandwich maker in the world. So she prepared a midnight feast. She combined a mountain of tender lamb on toasted bread, swept with mayonnaise and a sweet, scented mush made from all the caramelized vegetables, smothered in gravy and melted goats cheese, and a few leaves of arugula to make us feel better about ourselves. And we finished off the second bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape. 

Tomorrow is another diet. Seriously.

Pre-Easter Admission

Now: 218lbs (15st 8lbs)

It's over a year since the last post.  A year of indulgence and overconsumption.  But I kept off the diets, so at least I've been relatively cheerful.  And fat.

Last winter's short-lived RealDose experiment (8 days only) demonstrated clearly that drugs don't work on their own - you need to cut down on food, and you need to exercise.  Which is painful and boring, and against the laws of nature.  Man was designed to overeat, and is naturally prone to indolence.  I am living proof of this.  

So you don't really need RealDose - you need willpower, and I have none of that.  Sorry, Dr Steve.  If I'm to change my shape again, I have to find another route.  Maybe tomorrow.