I rarely eat anything of note.
Last January, it wasn't really planned, but I started training at the gym. Not cycling on resistance 1 in a pair of Primark leggins and going home for a bottle of rosé training, but blisters on your hands, sweating off your eyebrows, bruises on your forearms training. By some miracle I was still doing it come December, and by some bigger miracle I was 12% body fat down.
Over the past 12 months I have swung between the squat rack and the fridge, umming and ahhing about whether I really want to go for it. Not Jodie Marsh go for it, but half way there. I'd at least like to look like I work out.
In between mouthfuls of cheese I have spent the last year prodding and pinching my tummy and watching my bum becoming perkier, and I wondered this Christmas what I could look like if I did decide to go for it. Exercise is only the 20%, after all.
I have a diet plan, and I am sticking to it. I'm not kidding when I say that "three almonds" are one of my twice daily snacks and more meals than I would hope for come in liquid form, but I am wholeheartedly trying.
It doesn't, however, make for interesting blogging.
So I just wanted to say sorry; let's call it a hiatus. Who knows where I'll end up. This might end up a fitness blog. I might post recipes that don't that don't make you so fat. I might fail and end up Half Ton Mom. I'm all for trying.
Watch this space.