You may have wondered in your usual rather cursory manner what happened to the fat bloke who used to go on about becoming less fat, and you may have idly speculated as to the likely direction of his weight chart.
That's right, it's been going up again. Having started at a bulbous 96.4 kg, it came all the way down to 85.4, a loss of 11 kg, or 24 pounds, just before Xmas. Another 1.5 kg and I'd have broken into the not overweight zone, according to my official chart. Now, however, it's hovering just under the 89 kg mark.
I made a New Year's resolution to the effect that some time this year I would stand on the scales and the "who ate all the pies" light wouldn't come on. I've managed to get through January without things getting any worse, which is far better than I was hoping for.
I have a horror of Januaries, you see (as opposed to a horror of Janissaries, which would be the morbid fear of the elite troops of the Ottoman empire). So I may have had some ice cream, at least I haven't gone catatonic, and that's what counts. Now for the big push.
