The Wrong Trousers

There are downsides to losing weight.

Sure, you get a confidence boost, you (hopefully) get healthier and generally feel better about yourself, but there are remote times when you wish things could be adaptable.

Take last night.

I had the glam job of cleaning the bathroom  and picked out some old clothes to wear.

The T-shirts were fine. OK, a bit baggy but they did the job.

But the trousers? A lost cause. Every pair slid down my frame, finally resting around my bottom. It looked ridiculous and I looked several years too late for that particular style.

The horror.

If I had a hula-hoop to hand I'd have used it to fashion a clown-esque pantaloons. At least they would have looked a tad more sensible than the slack slacks I modelled.

That shallow quibble aside, things are going well.
OK, I miss having pies.
And pasties.
And a bit of booze.
But, all in all, I'm feeling better in myself.

Missing weeks

I wish I could tell you what I've been doing over the past few weeks.

While that may sound like I've been on some huge drinking session, I actually can't remember what I have been doing.

I know I've been to work. This is because my supply of porridge has gone down in my draw.

I know I've been to the FBIL's* wedding. I bought a suit. I did some dancing. I took some pictures. I was there.

I know I've started to learn Something on Gertie the ukulele. That's 'Something' by The Beatles not just 'something' on Gertie, although, at times, it does sound like something else not Something. So if you heard me I wouldn't blame you for thinking it was something and not being able to work out what that something was, only sure in the fact it wasn't Something.

I know I've been to the gym. I've picked my favourite locker and everything.

I also know I've done some wedding prep. The wine and suit (oh my) are bought and we've paid for the rings.

However, in that time, I don't know why I've not blogged.

Although I've written about writers block before I wonder if I've just gone through a massive spell of it.

There have been numerous attempts at writing this.

I started one on dentists following my first visit to one in years. Yes, I know, I should have gone before. But I really do freak out over those trips. Sweats, shakes, swearing, the whole kaboodle.

Another focused on how many weeks I had left until the big day. It was 18 weeks at that stage. I seemed a little worried when I read it back. Ha!

So apart from the dentist, ukulele, wedding, working, gyming, shopping and prepping for the wedding, just what have I done?



Perhaps I have been drunk.


Skills.


*Future Brother-In-Law

Eating tri-umph

The last few days have been a bit of a blur.

Early starts at work combined with packed evenings after left us both a little tired.
And, to be honest, my diet has taken a hit.
Take Thursday night's tea.
It was made up of:
A triangle of Toblerone
An apple
One and a half chicken fillets
I'm pretty sure that's all the major food groups covered.
Aren't you meant to have at least three triangle shaped foods* a day?

I've also had a bike riding carrot dangled in front of me. Yesterday, I was given a tour of our new cycling store at work.

It's the biking Batcave.

OK, it's a normal store but it's like a secret base for all the cycling superheroes.

It even has a SHOWER.

Monty must take her place there.

Today, I get to meet up with my best man and my best woman. I haven't seen either in quite a while so to say I'm a tad excited is an understatement.



*Other triangle food: tortilla chips, Dairylea/Laughing Cow, grapefruit bit, two halves of a
Muller Corner eaten at different times, slice of cake viewed from above, samosa, bought packaged sandwiches, slice of pizza.

No pain, no gain

There comes a time when you have a dining experience that blows everything else out of the water.

When the finest ingredients work in harmony with each other.

When the chef is at the top of their game.

When the ambiance and experience of your venue blends seamlessly with your state of mind.


Tonight I had baked beans and fish fingers for tea.


While it goes completely against what I should be eating, and while there was nothing fresh in sight, it was bloody good.
The tasty breadcrumbed fish worked beautifully with the tomatoey beans. The chef had cooked the meal perfectly. And, with an old episode of The Simpsons on, it was a nice time to relax.

So, while the WTB was enjoying a double zumba spectacular, I was tucking into the best that Cpt Birdseye and Mr Heinz had to offer. Pure comfort food.

Saturday. That's my next bike lesson. I spoke to my eldest brother Rich and he recommended the gel pad I fitted to the saddle on Sunday. "You'll get callouses in place you didn't know existed," he said, chuckling down the phone.
He's right you know. I'm pretty sure I've got a normal body but once I start riding properly (see, positive thinking) there will be aches and pains in my shacklegribbler.
And, while I'm laughing here at the Carry On-esque sentence I've just written, give me a few weeks and I'll look back at those words and curse that innuendo-laden sentence.

As I'm working Sunday I've got Tuesday off. Yet another day of avoiding the pub and I'm planning to do some riding on my own.

Bravery, don't fail me now.

Fighting temptation

Like any workplace, the office usually offers up a realm of temptation when it comes to food.

There are the obligatory biscuits and packets of crisps, the occasional plate of sandwiches and, on special occasions, trays of tasty pastry snacks for us to feast on.

In the past I've indulged with the rest of the newsroom and happily demolished the food, grabbing the grub as quickly as I can.

But, and you're no doubt ahead of the game here, I've stuck to my own food since the start of 2012. And I think it has been one of the reasons I've kept the weight off.

I've obviously anger the god of gluttony though as this week we've had:
Biscuits
Cookies
Shortbread
Chocolate snacks
McDonald's breakfast items
and boxes of chocolates

Yeah, it has been a challenge.

In moments like this (as Leona Lewis sang, pop fans), I take a sip of my lovely black coffee or a glug of water, look at the space where my fruit sat (as it's already gone by this stage) and plough on with my work.
I think of the wedding, of staying healthy and how well the WTB and I are doing.
I think of my calorie targets, how fit I want to be and what I should look like on the wedding day.
I also think of saying balls to it all and tucking in to the array* of food.

It seems that every day until September will offer some sort of foodie challenge. Don't get me wrong, it's a great challenge to have.

I've just got to keep going, make sure the big day is always in my mind and, perhaps, take in a vat of apples to munch my way through.




*Using that word as my old editor hated it. I'm not a fan but it's good to give words an airing now and again, just to remind you why you don't use them.

Changing man

As you may be able to tell, quite a few things are changing for me at the minute.

The veg bowl is now overflowing in the kitchen. That's not weird granted. The odd thing is that it gets eaten during the week. We no longer stare at the aubergine, it's actually used in meals other than a Thai green curry.  The potato is rarely destined for my chip-esque oven bakes. Mash is now our potatoey treat for the week.

The weight is staying off. I'm lighter than I have been in ages.

I've been on a bike for the first time in a good twenty years. OK I haven't been on a ride (yet) but on the plus side I have avoided being a crumpled, crying mess of a man (so far).

And this blog. It has really been the first diary-style thing that I've maintained. I remember having a copy of the Roald Dahl Diary in one of my last few years of primary school. I always wanted to keep a diary but the young Doney's diary entries were dull. They were not the witty entries that TV showed me children of ten should be writing.

Granted, those TV children can still string a sentence better than I can but, let's face it, they're fictional and I have the upper hand in the realms of reality.

So thanks all. I'm not giving this up I'm just having a short break from my normal ramblings tonight to say thanks for reading this. It's keeping me focused and motivated.

This year is one of change. I'm getting married. I'm turning 30. I'm taming the bike-shaped beast that has haunted me for the majority of my life.

Schmaltz over. Tomorrow, I'm hoping to get back on the bike.

Weight to go

Along with exercise, the key to losing weight has to be what we eat.
As statements go, that must go info the stating the bloomin' obvious section.

Please forgive my GCSE F grade intro but there was a time when I really didn't get that idea.

At school and college I was somewhat bigger than I am now. I was about 16st plus and clocked in at about 5ft9.

Granted it helped on the rugby field (former tight-head prop speaking here) but it just wasn't good for me.

To be frank, I ate a lot of crap food. Granted that crap food tasted fairly good, and it's amazing how bad food does that, but I think the key is I ate a lot of it.

Packets and packets of crisps, pies, pasties, bags of sweet treats - I could go on for ages. Especially when I started work in the newsroom, I ate a lot.

Drink may have also played a part. I had a lot of match practice at the noble art. What can I say? I love a drink.

So what changed?

I can remember bending down to pick up a skittle (the pin and not the sweet) at my local and losing my breath doing it. I caught myself losing my breath doing the smallest exercise.

That single action sparked shock in my head.

So I hit reverse on my diet. Out went the grease and in came the fruit, black coffee and low fat versions of everything.

Since then I've flipped and flopped between fads and foods. Thanks to the WTB I'm really enjoying the healthy foods and veg plays a big part in my diet. Save cauliflower and sprouts. They still belong in the wrong column. And beetroot.

I love food. I love trying new foods. I love watching cooking shows. I now love to cook. It's just now everything is in moderation.

Striking the balance has been hard. It's not always right, but I am getting there.

Whiskey business

When I started this blog, I soon realised that my foibles, hates and passions would soon be on show to all.

People would soon know that I can't stand sprouts, cotton wool (yet to be discussed) and the desert known as junket (and what should be known as just plain wrong).
People would know I'm planning for my wedding, that dieting and exercise were a huge part of my world at this time and the WTB is always right.

I knew, therefore, that I'd soon get round to my love of whiskey and whisky.

Since I've been drinking within the law and, if I'm totally honest, a bit outside of the law, I've always loved a dram of Scotch or Irish. I've no idea why but it works for me.
Perhaps I'm just an old hack at heart. Whiskey does go hand in hand with with the 1950s view of my profession.
Perhaps I'm just a young fogey at heart.
Perhaps, and this is most likely, I'm just odd.

Whatever the reason, I love whiskey. It's complex. It provides a range of smells and colours for you to enjoy. It also looks pretty cool when you know what you're talking about.

And then there's the taste. From a smokey beast to a sweet drop it can inspire and entrance, while giving you the mother of all hangovers. I'm not just talking about the shakes. You get the wibbles and wobbles too.

So why mention it now? As I mentioned we've had family staying at our home this weekend. And each night I've enjoyed a drop of Scotch and, one night, a drop of Canadian.

The thing is, can it go hand in hand with the next nine months? Can I justify keeping up this love affair with the water of life?

I don't drink it every night but it is a treat. I think I can keep it like that but, and this is a biggie, should I replace it with an alternative? Decaf coffee? Hot choc. Iced water?

Of course it wouldn't be permanent but maybe, if I'm serious about the weight loss, I should make it a once a week or month deal.

It's something to think on. For now, the Bruicladdich 'The Laddie Ten' is tasting wonderful.

Whiskey. Is there a better drink to help you answer the great questions of the world?

Nice and spicy

I've come to realisation there's one simple way of making food better; spice.

That's it. It's so simple, it's amazing it has taken me this long to crack the code.

While this may sound like a sweeping statement, stick with me and for a second think about all that bland food you've ever eaten.
Remember how boring a cottage pie can taste? Think about that watery cooked veg that you've had to endure. Think about all those tasteless piles of food 'things' you had to eat. Think about how much better they would have tasted with something spicy added.


Everything, I now believe, can be made better with spice. It can bring your bog standard dish into something amazing. It can transform boring veg into something with zing and zazzle.

I've just spent the evening with the future in-laws at a restaurant chain owned by a celeb chef (he's pukka). Each dish, bar the puddings, must have had some sort of chilli in.
Battered squid? Chilli.
Chicken? Chilli.
Even the greens were laced with chilli.

What backs this theory up? Three words. Cabbage. Soup. Diet.
There's no way I could have managed that week if the soup didn't have some sort of kick in that potentially bland meal. Cayenne pepper was made for this plan.
So there we have it. How to transform your meal. Spice.



Or booze. Booze can work too. Beer and wine with stews. Champagne with oysters. Whisky or whiskey with cream.

So booze and spice. Two ways of making food better.

Or chocolate. OK, three ways.


As you may have guessed, the diet has taken a back seat today. Enjoying life surely has to mean having a rest, now and again, from our everyday routine. We've had family with us this weekend. The WTB has had 'wedding' appointments. We've enjoyed time with those close to us and made the most of the time.
Healthy eating will be back, but all work and no play makes me a very bored eater. It would make me more likely to cheat and so I'm glad we've done it.
The weight has stayed off (I've only gained 1lb) so I know I can push on from here.

I know, come Monday morning, we'll be back on our rations. But today, we've drunk a lot of tea, eaten some cake and had some wine.

And I've loved it.

And relax

Tomorrow is my day off. Tomorrow I will be doing housework.
For anyone who works a weekend, this is the normality you face. Whatever you can't do on a Saturday or Sunday is carried over to the week.
For me it's ironing, cooking and... well something else.

The worst thing for me will be staying away from any temptation. For temptation, read 'The Pub.'
To say I'm a huge fan of the midweek drink would be somewhat underselling my devotion to what is one of the few things that still feels naughty.

There's something wonderful about sitting in a boozer, while others are at work, and supping a drink while pouring over a paper. You get this particularly cheeky feeling. Well, I do anyway.

You still get some shocked reactions when you say you're off to the pub in the middle of the day.
At one stage I'd have to explain to people: "Look, I'm just going for the one. I'm not going to be there all day. I'll pop out, have a pint or a whisky, read the paper and come home to continue my dedication to the housework."

I no longer have to do that, mainly because I got legless on one occasion and people know I'd be in big trouble if I did it again.


So, I have cut down on my habit. But with the wedding on our minds I don't think I can justify it at all. Oh on special occasions I'm sure I'll head out of an afternoon, but for now the pub is closed in my brain. Well, on weekday afternoons anyway. For now.

As we're off the diet now we've got open season on what we eat. Because we can use more than a few pots and pans, our kitchen looks like a toddler has gone on a slight sugar-fuelled rampage. There are dirty saucepans everywhere. Knives I didn't know we owned have appeared. The peeler is filled with all sorts of funk. And that's just from today's effort.

For the record I cooked salmon with herbs and lemon, with steamed veg and a small portion of mashed potato. Having gone through last week, mashed potato seems to be a novelty.

We did sort of fall off the wagon last night. I know, I know, first day off and I'm already going bananas. Stick with me though.
We had small glass of rose wine and a single Hershey's Chocolate Kiss (under 200kcal for both if you're interested). Everything in moderation.

Plus, now I've had some wine, I won't think of the pub tomorrow.

Yeah, right.

Saddle up

Why is it that as soon as you've finished a diet or fitness boost, your brain tells you one of two things.

It either says: You've done it! Superb! You can now eat what you want!

Or it says: As soon as that third grape touches your mouth you'll put on eight stone.

The truth is somewhere between those two it's just your brain doesn't let you know that.

The brain can be a shit sometimes.

So yes, it was the first day off the diet. While we didn't indulge with a bucket of chocolate topped with chips, we did bring back some extra fruit and meat.

I have made changes to my diet.
Gone is the lovely ham I used to eat and in exchange I have turkey. The dry meat.

The cabbage soup has made me consider everything I eat.
Even if that was the only thing to take from the experience, that's an excellent thing to gain.
While it won't stop the odd binge it will stop the regular treats. Good for me, good for the weight.

An app is helping us keep track of calories so what I have to do now is the fitness side.

It's here I have to make a confession.

I cannot ride a bike.

A few posts ago I said that cycling wasn't an option just yet.
Well, it's because I can't cycle.
Oh I can get on a bike, but I'm a bit of an expert of falling over again and again.

So, before I turn 30 in a few months, I want to learn.

Wish me luck.

Last orders

There it is. The final day completed.  One week of cabbage soup ended in a flourish with the addition of brown rice.

Brown rice and flourish are rarely used in a sentence. In fact, I'd imagine this would be the only time. But, after 11 portions of the same soup in seven days, a very limited menu and no pudding, brown rice made me, dare I say it, a wee bit excited?

Excited. There's another word never paired with brown rice.

Anyway, this morning started with hearty glass of grapefruit juice. That was all. Not the greatest start to the morning I grant you. You couldn't compare it to the steak but, as I've really missed the fruit, it's in a different league to cucumber and peppers.

I didn't only celebrate with the rice. This morning I went to Costa and had a black Americano. My word, what a delight. Gave me a caffeine boost for about an hour I reckon.

So how do I feel after this diet switch? Healthier? Slimmer? Do I have a glossy coat? No, yes and maybe. About six pounds have gone from my weight which is quite amazing. Although I'm sure I couldn't last any longer than a week. And I wouldn't suggest anyone else try it for more than seven days.

I have lost weight which was, after all is said and done, the main reason to start this diet and this blog. The trick is now to keep it off. A fresh challenge for both of us. We're moving to a low GI diet from here on out. A colleague has given me recipes he's used successfully and I will be upping the exercise to go with it.

For now, the brown rice will finish off the day and the diet. How I feel tomorrow will probably be exactly the same as today, but at least I've made a start on things. I've a wedding weight in mind and I'm going to go for it.

These things, as the cliche goes, start with the smallest step. This step's pretty small but it's rather important.

In a spin

Side effects are funny.

There are the ones you're prepared for (like the gas) and ones that sneak up on you.

Well, I've been well and truly ambushed today.

This morning I was grabbed by the head-spin monster.

I'd showered, got dressed, trundled down the stairs and there it was. A touch of dizziness.
It wasn't the good kind. It wasn't the kind you get after one too many drinks. It was the kind you get when you first spin around and feel a bit, well, wonky. Light-headed.

Clever WTB told me to eat, so cucumber sticks were the treat of the morning. A pint of water and some healthy bits later I was back on track.

It was weird. I'd eaten a fair amount yesterday and so it was a wee bit of a shock. Granted, the diet is not balanced, but it is my fault if I'm not munching on veg.

On today's menu there's been chicken. At the mo I feel I'm more Colonel Sanders than human. I've eaten a fair whack of chook for dinner and tea. We've griddled the meat and, man, the variety has been welcome. We're back to a veggie option tomorrow so I've enjoyed every single mouthful. 

The weird thing about the soup? I quite enjoy it. It's hearty, full of flavour and healthy. I may not eat it every day of the week but as a once and a while option I'm sure we'll cross paths again.

Final day tomorrow. Rice and more soup...

What an exciting prospect.

High steaks

Meat day. Well, what can I say? Did it live up to my hopes? Was it everything I've been dreaming of?

Predictably, yes and no.

Steak for breakfast was mega. Seriously. It was tasty. It looked lovely. It. Was. Mega.
That amount of beef really set me up for the the day. I can honestly say it was the first day I didn't get hunger pangs.
My stomach has been making some wonderful noises this week. Growling like a hungry dog one minute, gurgling like a plughole another.
Have you noticed your stomach always makes noises when it's deadly quiet? It has to be the most mischievous part of the body.

The breakfast also made the house smell spectacular. When I was growing up, the smell of a roast beef coming from the rayburn was, perhaps, one of the greatest things about the weekend.
We'd come home from church, sit round the table and tuck in to the meat, roasted potatoes, yorkshire and suet pudding and other bits.
Today's smell may not have reached that height, but it was a solid substitute.

We mixed the steak with the soup at tea. This made the soup more meat than veg.

I'm not complaining.

As usual, I did miss something about my normal diet. Today, drinks. I can only drink coffee, herbal tea and water at the mo. I would have loved a whisky today. Or an ale. Or a cider. Or a red wine. Even a can of Coke Zero would have been a wonderful, celebrated thing.

I went shopping for the week ahead and the fruit bowl is bulging with a host of colourful treats.  I've also made a low-fat chilli, stocked up on grapefruit juice and bought an obscene amount of spinach. So it looks like the wind is here to stay...

Two days left of this plan. We've both lost weight and feeling positive about the wedding weight-loss scheme.

Tomorrow, we're on the home stretch. Chicken! More meat!

Diet goes bananas

Steak! I can barely contain my excitement that tomorrow morning's breakfast will basically consist of a slab of meat.

That's right. I'm having steak for breakfast. Surely this is the dream for every carnivore? 

I've got quite a loving relationship with beef. When I was growing up, my birthday meal request was always a roast beef dinner (followed by milk jelly).

When I turned18 I ate a 32oz steak, with chips and onion rings (and side salad, but not really counting that), at my local in Cornwall. I can honestly say I didn't break a sweat... until I finished, when the meat sweats hit

I love beef.

But... There's always a 'but' in these situations...

To get to the steak, I've drunk about a litre of skimmed milk,  eaten five bananas and had two portions of the cabbage soup. FIVE bananas.  

As I've mentioned, I love fruit but the bananas have taken it out of me. Both the WTB and I felt quite lethargic today and I'm putting it down to that.

When you look at it, the diet is quite barmy. Yes, I know it's a fad diet and only for a short time, but some of the combinations have been quite off.

Tonight, apart from removing the Christmas decorations, we're also discussing what we should eat next week. We will be left to our own devices again. The diet is making us examine what we're eating on a daily basis.

However, I wouldn't mind if we left bananas off the menu for a while. 

A year should do it.

Trumpet trousers

No matter what your age, breaking wind is funny.
Childish? Yes.
Embarrassing? Occasionally.
Funny? Always.

We boys seem to have the obsession over it because, I think, it not only has a funny sound but also a funny smell. We're simple creatures.

I'm sorry to go on about 'it' again, but when you're on this diet, it's the one thing that always comes up.

So yes, I'm at 'that' stage of the cabbage soup. The stage where you're right in the middle of the eating plan. When, like me, you've eaten four apples, peppers, cucumber and four grapes as your snacks,  the only badge of honour you have that you're on the diet is the occasional whizz-bang.
And yet... I've not noticed a huge increase in this activity. I'm sure there's more obstacles to come but so far? Not bad. Either that or I'm just naturally gassy.

Avoiding other foods is still proving a challenge. One of my colleagues brought in a homemade cake today. It looked and sounded stunning. Only more coffee and pints of water solved the hunger pang.

The exercise aspect of the healthier life still needs to be tackled. WTB loves zumba but the idea of me joining in fills the whole town with dread. I'm a keen walker but I know that's not enough. Bike riding isn't an option (at the moment) so it may mean I need to go back to the gym.

While tomorrow brings milk back and introduces bananas, I know that in my head I can't wait for steak day.

Green machine

I don't hate vegetables, really I don't, It's just I've never had the best relationship with them. 

I've never understood how people can chomp down on a raw carrot or look forward to eating celery. Both of those, in my opinion are best served in stout, traditional dishes. Pies for example. Or stews. Or, in fact the cabbage soup which has become the focus of my life this week.

I just don't think I'd only eat veg throughout the day*.

Today was always going to be tricky for me. No fruit. Still no meat. No dairy. No bread. Just veg.

Breakfast consisted of cucumber and peppers with black coffee. Dinner? Well the soup, of course, and some more cucumber and peppers.  Tea had a spark of variety. Baked potato. some more of the soup and steamed spinach, courgette and broccoli.

So far, so healthy.

The food itself has been fine. But we're in a tricky period, I'm sure all of us would agree. The flotsam and jetsam of festive good still lingers in our kitchen cupboards. I know that if I open one cupboard I will find about 12 Kinder Eggs. Temptation has never been closer. Especially when the editor brings in bag after bag of Christmas food for the newsroom to eat. It's all very kind but it's taking some will power to avoid the treats. Thank goodness I still have coffee! Huzzah!

I also think I'm starting to experience the one familiar problem the diet has. Gas. Guffs. Farts. Trumps. Parps. I've got a sneaking suspicion the cheese will be cut quite a lot this evening. I can only hope they hit their peak before work tomorrow.

Tomorrow I can bring fruit back in. I'll be hitting the apples from early morning.

*Apart from potatoes. I mean you can have chips, waffles, fondant, mash, baked, fried...

Cold feet

So I'm sitting in the office today, looking out across the Malvern Hills, trying to crack a headline about a new morgue (seriously) and it suddenly dawns on me that my feet are freezing.
They're blocks of ice; they were at the stage where you're not quite sure if they're damp or slightly cold. Now, I'm usually quite cold while sitting at my desk. The window lets in a bit of a breeze. Indeed, with the strong winds hitting Cheltenham today, the office kitchen window was whistling like a kettle on a rayburn for a good few hours, but my feet are rarely cold.
So what did I blame for this weird happening? The bloomin' cabbage soup.
Of course, it's nothing to do with that. I know it's cold in my head as my rugby-hit knees are aching. But my heart is blaming the soup.
The soup is actually quite tasty. The WTB put a fair kick of cayenne pepper in, turning it from boring and bland to spicy and seriously tasty. I could eat it even if I wasn't on a diet. But, as the WTB so accurately put, it just needs chicken and a bread roll.

Today's condition has been eating fruit. I can eat as much as I like. Bliss. Apples, apples and more apples for me. I will never get bored with that beautiful fruit, wonderful tasting thing, creator of cider. Tomorrow though it's veg only. Balls.

The start

Tomorrow I start on the Cabbage Soup Diet. Seven days of soup-based joy with the added bonus of steak later in the week.
The reason? I'm getting married in September. My lady (from here on known as the WTB) and I have decided to cut the crap from our diets for a week to try and kick-start weight-loss.
The best part? Before we cut the crap, we have to eat the crap. So tonight, our meal has consisted of yoghurt raisins, chocolate, wine, pasta, bacon, wine, ice cream and a wee bit more wine.

Thankfully, I'm allowed coffee. The caffeine-packed wonder drink is still one of my favourites. I can drink as much of it as I like during the week. Without it, I would have gone a tad mad.

Wish me luck...