What a difference a holiday makes

FIFTEEN portions of chips, five McDonalds, a chinese take-away, eight bottles of wine, 30 pints of lager, seven ice creams and very little water.

That is just a selection of the food I have consumed while I have been away on holiday for two weeks.

I make that around 150 units of alcohol and more than 50,000 calories.

Add to that the fact I have not done any exercise in the last two weeks and you can understand why I am dreading going running tonight.

Have I undone all my hard work in one foul holiday?
Will my trainers still provide enough support for my ankles not to give way under the weight of my bulbous belly?

And what about passers by? Will they turn their heads' in disgust as I waddle past them with my stomach wobbling over my shorts?

Cries of "run fatboy run" are what I'm expecting along with small children asking their mums why a man who looks like a teletubby is gasping for air like a beached whale.

I hope to survive my run tonight. But if the worst does come to the worst, Hannah has vowed to continue this blog in my absence.

You may think me melodramatic - but you haven't seen me run yet.