Let Him Eat Cake

More news from the trenches of Old Dive's Miracle Non-Diet.
This morning I find myself down to 180lb (this down from 229.3lb a little over a year ago).

Yesterday, my non-diet consisted (in no particular order):
A large tumbler of Tropicana Orange and Lime.
Two full-fat lattes at Pret.
One fresh, Pret egg and bacon breakfast baguette (with lashings of bacon - yay - the ultimate diet food).
Two pistachio macarons (they were all out of bacon macarons by the time we got there, dammit).
One, inch-thick slab of fresh, sashimi-grade tuna the size of my hand, sliced up raw as sashimi and served with low-salt soy, wasabi and a bowl of freshly made miso soup with lots of wakame.
A bunch of grapes.
A large tumbler of fresh-squeezed, no-salt tomato juice.
A whole bag (oops) of organic unsalted mixed nuts and fruit.
Most of a bar of Green and Black's organic Maya Gold dark chocolate.
A couple of hefty mugs of black Lavazza Gold coffee.
A cup of Shizuoka green tea.
A whole local crab (well not the crunchy bits) stuffed into a fresh-baked demi-baguette with a handful of salad leaves.
Snackie tomatoes (organic Vittoria on the vine).
Half a bottle of white Burgundy.
A Grappa round at Gerry's.
A large glass of rather good Cognac.
Combined with a nice walk in the city at breakfast time, some vacuuming and a session in my gym I still managed to lose a pound.

Today I intend to partake of the wares displayed above when I meet Phil and his new girlfriend (yikes) in town for lunch.

Do please join me in my miracle non-diet. Unlike others it is completely free to join and it WORKS! It's costing me a fortune in new clothes though.

Old Dive's Miracle Non-Diet

Hey, peeps! Prithee celebrate with me. Raise a glass of the alcoholic beverage of your own choosing to Old Dive's Miraculous Lightening.

A year ago this week I caught sight of myself on video, standing sideways on to the camera and - as I put it at the time - screamed like a girl.
Here is that offending video and the post that confirmed I had indeed swallowed a planet.

I weighed myself that very day and found to my horror that I weighed 104 kilos (almost 16 and a quarter stone in real money, or 229.3 pounds in American).

Having stuck a big red sign on my fridge saying "DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE!" I proceeded not to go on a diet, not to cut down on the booze and not to exercise any more than I did at the time.

What I DID do, however, was begin a regime of portion control. For the past year I've eaten and drunk what the hell I wanted, when the hell I wanted it, but have not "cooked for two and not let it go to waste" which was my previous kitchen habit.
I have consumed many a gallon of Barolo and Pinot Grigio and Islay malt, together with a lorry load of Green and Black's organic chocolate, a veritable Tsukuji Market of fish and shellfish and have committed atrocities against the vegetable kingdom that would shock the squeamish.

This morning, as I stood on my scales (which read the same as those in my doctor's surgery, I'm happy to state) I find I weigh (tadaa) a mere 83.4 kilos (a little under 13 stone 2, or 183.8 pounds in American).

A year ago, I thought the only way I'd lose twenty pounds of ugly fat was to cut off my head, but instead, having shown no restraint whatsoever and not at any moment felt like I was was dieting, I discover I've shed 46 pounds.
Forty-six pounds! That's more than six-and-a-half seven pound babies! Sheesh! Try lifting that weight of bottled water and hefting it up and down the stairs and you'll see just how happy my knees are. Yay for the new, gravity-free me!

Without a belt, my jeans now fall straight to the floor, much to my amusement.

Anyhoo … I'm chuffed to bits, so while I stuff myself full of crayfish tails and salad I wish you all a very merry Sunday. Whoop whoop!