The Christmas goose is getting fat...

...Sadly, though, it's not just the Christmas goose that's put on weight. Although I was down to 82.9 kilos three weeks ago, I'm now up to 84.8 kilos. It's my fault, really – I've spent the past fortnight in an orgy of cooking, eating and indolence (highlights have included a fantastic fore-rib of beef, served with spuds roasted in goose fat and pillowy yorkshire puds, and a slow-roast shoulder of lamb that just fell apart at the prod of a fork).

I'm hoping, though, that the weight that's gone on so fast will come off again equally quickly. My knee is also on the mend and, over the past few days, I've been running again. It's amazing how quickly you can lose condition thought – I did two miles (3.5 km) the other day and nearly died in the attempt. Five ks looks almost as unachievable as it did a month or so ago... Still, one step back and two steps forward is the order of the day, so I'm about to go for the third run of the week. If I don't kill myself out there, I'll be back in the next day or two with some updates.

Things are finally moving in the right direction

It's taken ages, for one reason or another, but I've finally moved off my plateau. This morning I weighed in at 83.7 kilos... Hurrah!

The good news continues – slowly

This week's weigh-in sees me hit 84.1 kilos. This has been a really stubborn one to shift, but I hope that by this time next week I'll be under the 84 kilo barrier.

The other bit of good news this week is that I went into Jigsaw yesterday and found that I could easily fit into their size 16 trousers (at the start of this diet I was struggling to fit into an M&S size 18 – and their sizing is generous).

Could it be...?

I don't want to go jumping the gun here, but for the past two days I've stepped on the scales and got a reading of 84.3 kilos. After a long plateau period, it may be that my weight's on the way down again (alternatively, the pessimist in me suggests that a couple of glasses of water may see it bounce right back up again - let's hope it stays off).

It's mickle time...

They say that many a mickle maks a muckle (a Scots proverb to the effect that lots of little things add up to one big thing). This week's mickle is the loss of 100 grams, bringing my weight in at 84.7 kilos. Not all that much to get excited about, but still moving in the right direction. I'm due another session with James later today, so that might shave off another few grams...

Two very pleasant surprises - and one unpleasant one

I've just got back from eight days in Greece – following on from 10 days in France, with only two days at home in between trips to recuperate (I know I have the best job in the world, but sometimes it's nice to come back home and stay there for a while – when I found out that I don't have to go to Burgundy at the end of the month, as I had expected, I nearly opened a bottle of Champagne in celebration).

The Greeks are incredibly generous hosts, and as a result every meal was a belt-buster. We were up in the mountains, as well, so this was all country food: wild boar stews cooked in red wine and served with noodles, beef fillet with wild mushrooms and veal meatballs served in a creamy egg and lemon sauce. Few of the meals we enjoyed (endured?) featured fewer than four courses, all rounded off with desserts so sweet my teeth ache just thinking about them. There was wine, of course, plenty of it. And there were two meals like this a day. In the end, the relentlessness of it all was a godsend because I lost my appetite entirely by the third day of the trip and just ended up picking at things.

As a result, although I was dreading stepping on the scales this morning, I was delighted to see them read 84.8kg. So things are, once again, moving in the right direction.

It's obviously not just water loss, either, as I'm currently wearing a pair of size 16 Gap jeans I had to give up on two years ago because the waistband was too tight for comfort. True, I've got a bit of a muffin top, but the jeans are pretty comfortable.

The bad news is that I went for a run yesterday and barely made it once round the park. I've got a session with James on Friday – I hope I can do a bit better by then.

Predictable, I suppose

I've just got back from 10 lovely (if rainy) days in France – Mark, Laszlo and I took a much-needed holiday in the Loire and Burgundy. The trouble is that, between my healing knee and the good food, I've put on nearly a kilo. The scales this morning read 86kg.

To make matters worse, I'm off to Greece on Saturday for an eight-day work trip. I'll just have to gird my loins and learn to resist temptation once again.

Another week, another weigh in

85.2 kilos this week. I'm going to have to watch it, though, as I'm entering review season. For the next few months, as long as I'm in London, I'll be eating out several times a week in my role as section editor of a restaurant guide. Given that I can't exercise at the moment, keeping on track is going to be tough.

A double celebration

Much to my surprise, after my kachapuri and kebab fest, I've come back weighing somewhat less than I did when I went to Georgia. Maybe misery has a purpose after all...

85.4 kilos. Hurrah!

Plus I managed two laps of the park again yesterday morning. The fact that spring has sprung while I've been away, with a consequent rise in temperature, makes things a tad more difficult than they were when the weather is cool and overcast. It's not much fun jogging in the sunshine (I feel like someone whingeing about a half-full glass, but it's true). But if I can haul myself out of the house before about 10 in the morning, it's not too bad.

And now for the bad news...

When I returned from Istanbul, my weight had dipped to 85.7 kilos, and I thought I was back on track. Now, 10 days later, I'm now back up to 86.3 kilos. I could kid myself that it's just a matter of water retention or something, but I have to acknowledge that I'm not being as rigorous with the diet as I was at the start of the year.

I've got plenty of excuses for relaxing my eating patterns: I've had a lot of work dinners, I've had friends round or been over to friends' places for dinner, and I've just started my annual restaurant reviewing rounds (I'm a section editor for one of the main restaurant guides). In other words, temptation's been placed in my path, and I've succumbed. Only slightly, but just enough to ensure that I'm not losing any weight. The time has come to reconsider my priorities, because I'm always going to have to face up to temptation. If I want to lose more weight, I'm going to have to stick a little closer to the rules. Darn.

At last

For the past three weeks now, my weight has hovered around 87 kilos, up 100g one day, down the next, then back up. To tell the truth, I was getting a bit fed up. Not that I was ever going to give up on this diet – I've got too much invested in making a go of it. But there were some days when I did question what I was doing.

I haven't gone anywhere near the scales for a few days, because it was all getting a bit depressing, but this morning I climbed on board, and I'm now down to 86.6 kilos. I hope it's still down to 86.6 kilos tomorrow morning.

Blow me down

I don't deserve it after last week (see item below on why France is a bad idea), but this week's weigh in revealed a loss of 300 grammes. I'm down to 87.3 kg. Maybe it was all the walking I did from the wine producers' tables to the spitoons and back.

More kilos go

I thought you might be getting bored with seeing the fireworks image every time I have a successful weigh in, so I thought I'd try a popping Champagne cork instead. Arguably, it's more appropriate in any case.

This week, the scales read 87.6 kilos. Only another 19 or 20 to go...

An unexpected surprise

After yesterday's blowout (and an epic Sunday lunch here with friends that involved bunny and pancetta cooked with verjuice, a cheese board and a blood orange and rosemary jelly for dessert) I didn't really expect to have lost much weight over the past week. So I was really pleased to step on the scales this morning and see that they read 88.3 kilos. That's down a thoroughly undeserved kilo on last week. I'm not quite sure what I'm doing right, but long may it last...

Gloom, doom and disaster – and more than a handful of great meals

I've put on weight. When I stepped on the scales this morning, my weight was back up to 89.8 kilos.

On the other hand, there's a very good reason for that. On Friday, Mark and I got married in a quiet ceremony at the Chelsea Registry Office. Our two mothers were our witnesses, and the entire thing lasted about 20 minutes from a small interview with the registrar to check that our details were correct, to the bit where Mark kissed his new bride. OK, I know I'm going to have to get used to it, but that bit still sounds weird to me (sorry Mark!)

We spent almost as much time getting photographed as we did getting married, and were joined by my sister Lisa and her husband (also, confusingly, called Mark). After the photos were finished, we went for a slap-up meal at the newly Michelin-starred Wild Honey restaurant, http://www.wildhoneyrestaurant.co.uk. Not only was the food delicious, one of the owners, Will Smith, sent over a bottle of Château de Boursault's Champagne on the house, which impressed my mum no end.

This wasn't a weekend for sticking to the diet, I decided, and tucked into a starter of smoked eel served with sweet-sour slices of turnip, then had wild duck with spaetzle (a kind of Austrian gnocchi) and pomegranate. Then I added the coup de grace with a pudding of chocolate soup (a bit like a molten chocolate mousse) and nougat ice-cream (I have to admit, that, being unused to the sugar rush, I did feel a tad sick on the way home, but not sick enough to really regret tucking in with such relish).

We had some lovely wines, too – one of Wild Honey's strength is that most of its wines are served in 250ml carafes as well as by the bottle. I particularly enjoyed a Blauer Zweigelt from Austrian producer Anton Bauer (which smelled of flowers and currants) and a eucalyptus-scented Pinot Noir (the same grape used to make red wine in Burgundy) from Shadowfax in Victoria.

Mark's mum was staying with us that night, and we didn't do much. In fact, I joked to Mark that we must be the only couple to spend their first night of married life beached on the couch in the living room while watching a movie we'd recorded at Christmas.

The next day, we drove Mark's mum (Brenda) back home to Gloucester, then headed towards the Cotswolds for our one night of honeymoon. We spent this at the Trout Inn, http://www.trout-inn.co.uk/, where we had a pretty little room and another humungous meal. They, too, comped us a glass of Champagne (Perrier-Jouët NV) when they found out we'd just got married, to which we added a bottle of Descendientes de Palacio's Petalos del Bierzo, a rich, velvety red wine with lots of earthy, peppery spice and dark fruit, between us. I've obviously lost my head for wine (not that I've ever been much good at drinking in quantity) and found myself getting all giggly after the first glass or two, but I still managed to find enough strength to wolf down some crab and vichysoisse, then a plate of fillet steak, horseradish mash and wild mushrooms. Oh, and did I mention the rosemary-scented creme brulee?

We did have a lovely long walk the next morning, through frost-covered fields that ran alongside the Thames towpath. Laszlo romped ahead of us, looping his way through the long grass and then back towards us, his whiskers all covered in frost (and his legs covered in burrs, as we later discovered). Even though the temperature was hovering around freezing point, the icy landscape was breathtakingly beautiful and the sun shone weakly in a bright blue sky. All in all, it was a glad-to-be-alive moment.

So, despite the walk, it's no wonder I've put on a bit of weight over the past week. With any luck, it'll come off just as quickly as it went on. I'll keep you posted.

Weigh in number six

There was a moment, a week or two ago, where I thought I was getting a bit stuck on a plateau. I only record my weight on this blog once a week, but I often step on the scales every couple of days to make sure I'm heading in the right direction.

For a few days there, it looked like I was hovering. My weight went down 400 grammes, then up 300 grammes, then back down again. I felt it was touch and go as to whether or not I'd record any loss at all next week (although I ended up 600 grammes down on the previous week).

All of a sudden, though, I've shifted another 800 grammes since last week, and am down to 89.5 kilos, bringing me at under 90 kilos for the first time in – oooh, let's just say a long time and leave it at that.

Another week, another weigh-in

This week, the scales read 90.3. I've lost four kilos in as many weeks – and most of the loss has been relatively painless. If I can carry on like this, I'll have reached my target some time in September. I don't reckon the sailing is going to be quite as plain and smooth as all that, but this has been an encouraging first month.

And now for a very quick word...

If there's anyone out there reading this, I really hope you'll excuse the radio silence over the past few days. I left for Italy at the crack of dawn on Friday morning and, on my return home last night, discovered I had a shortened deadline for a piece that was due in at the end of the week but ended up having to be submitted today (such are the joys of freelance life).

Anyway, I've been slaving over a hot computer (in a very cold room – I can hardly feel my fingers as I type) and have got the damn thing in on time. I promise that I will devote tomorrow morning to updating this blog with the various accounts of my exploits (culinary, exercise and travel) before I head off to a major tasting of Australian wines in the afternoon.

In the interim, I would just like to announce that my weight is now down to 90.9 kilos. To be totally honest, it was down to that before I left for Italy. However, the fact that it is holding steady at 90.9 kilos is a bit of a personal triumph in the face of onslaughts of ravioli, risottos, polentas, cheeses and charcuterie, not to mention an unending stream of Valpolicella, Amarone and Recioto. But I don't want to spoil a good story, so I'll tell you all about that tomorrow.

The weekly weigh in

Despite the temptations of the past few days, my weight is down again this week. The scales now read 91.6kg – in old money terms, I've lost nearly half a stone. What's more, people are starting to notice. The start of a diet is tough – you're adjusting your eating patterns and, quite often, feeling deprived – and until the new regime kicks in, there's very little gratification. But when you start to feel your clothes getting looser and people start to notice that the pounds are dropping off, it acts as a positive reinforcement.

At the moment I'm feeling very positive.

Weigh-hey!

This morning was my second official weigh in (OK, so I've cheated and peeked a couple of times over the course of the past week. Predictable, huh?)

I climbed on the scales, held my breath... A drum roll, please, ladies and gentlemen... My weight is down to 93 kilos exactly – down 1.4 kilos from last week.

I don't expect to keep on losing weight at the same rate, but it's certainly a good start.