Category archive: health and fitness

So the doctor said that the weight I have put on was likely to be caused from my lazy thyroid. Not at all then from my recent habit of celebrating the end of every work day with the modern equivalent of a Medieval banquet.

Thyroid medication should make my body burn down fat normally again but, just in case, I thought it would also be good to reduce my calories intake so on Saturday I dug out an old diet that my GP gave me ten years ago. It worked very well at the time, it's very simple, flexible and easy to follow, it's balanced and gives good results. No fads, just sensible. Wish me luck. No, wish me willpower. This grease-stained piece of paper will be my nutritional bible for the next six weeks:

Needless to say, the night before starting the diet I celebrated the end of my all-you-can-eat evenings with pizza, cheesecake and 30 Rock Season 2:

Over the last few weeks I have been bringing my lunch into work and eating the same meal every day. It's easy, cheap and practical, and I don't mind if it's monotonous – I guess I am lucky that way. Or unlucky, depending on how you see it.

What kept puzzling me was that some days (most days, in fact), right after eating, I would crave more food. So I'd have my afternoon piece of fruit early. And then I'd have my early evening handful of almonds early. And then I'd pop down to the canteen and go crazy. Other days, I would feel full and not think about food all afternoon.

I have kept a food journal for the last seven days and I noticed that apart from one day, whenever I eat my lunch in the kitchen (a thirty second walk from my desk, but at least it is not my desk) I feel fuller. When I eat at my desk instead (sometimes working, often just checking personal email and feeds), my brain probably does not even register that I have eaten at all.

I remember hearing somewhere that one should always sit down to eat at a table – and no, a desk is not a table.

What would you do if your doctor told you that your blood test shows you have a low thyroid so here take these pills for the rest of your life and by the way your cholesterol is high so avoid fatty foods byeee?

I called the surgery back and booked an appointment with the other doctor that comes in once a week on Tuesday.

I saw her today and she told me that:

• my thyroid is sluggish (it runs in my family) and although it does produce just about all the hormones I need, it does needs a little help;
• yes, I will have to be on medication but all it does is top up the natural hormone levels with a synthetic version, and it will very likely rid me of all the symptoms I went to see the doctor about in the first place. Go on, I know you are dying to say it: 'Luca's on HRT';
• my cholesterol is only very slightly above the recommended level, but this is usually associated with a slow thyroid function and it should go back to normal soon.

It's not just what you say, it's also (mostly) how you say it.

Now, in the future I might always ask to see her, and be limited to only get appointments on Tuesday, but I think it's too much hassle and I have decided to change surgery instead (a friend recommended a very good one that's near home too).

What would you do?

I recently had a bit of bad news concerning my health. Very tiny, nothing to worry about if you are forty-two like me. Taking into account that my doctor is not the greatest at social skills (he stares at his keyboard and answers with monosyllabic grunts), I decided not to worry for the time being and to request a second opinion (which I will have next Tuesday).

After seeing my GP, I felt like walking part of the way to work just to boil off my frustration at him. 3.6 miles.

That evening after work I got out of the tube to check the WWDC keynote live on my mobile, and walked the rest of the way home. 3.6 miles.

On Wednesday I walked part of the way home from work because of the tube strike. 4.2 miles.

And today I walked to and from work (at a different location in Central London). 3.5 miles each way.

Which means that during the last four days I walked 18.4 miles. That's 29.6 kilometres.

I had already walked to work a few times the (10k) but it is a long distance and very time consuming (1 hour 40 minutes). Doing it half-way is much more manageable and I intend to do it more often. Just as well, as my tolerance for unwashed tube passengers is greatly reduced during the summer months.

I would like to be fit and active for as long as I can, and walking sounds like the kind of activity I could do well into my old age. Oh, and if incidentally my next blood test results come back OK, it would be an added bonus.

Parkinson's law states that

'work expands to fill the time available'.

With that in mind, when you set yourself a goal it is useful to pick a date that is realistically achievable, but not too comfortable.

This is why when I decided I wanted to run a 10-mile race (never having run longer than 10 kilometres), I gave myself four weeks to train up to that distance (including the Christmas break).

As a result, I ran twice during my short Christmas break (and discovered a beautiful trail around some artificial lakes near Stuart's parents in Staffordshire).

Unfortunately, I was wearing trainers that were inappropriate for a countryside run, ended up injuring my right foot and could not take part in the Tadworth Ten 2009 10 mile race in early January.

Sounds more like Sod's law than Parkinson's law. But my last training run was 10 miles. Success.

Anyway, lessons learnt:

1. Do not save money on running shoes. I now wear a pair of Asics GT-2140 worth 85 pounds. You do not need to spend as much, I did because my foot demanded it.
2. If even just one element of your run is new, go easy, be it type of surface, location, gear or climate.
3. If you leave it alone, it will go away. I went to see a doctor just to make sure it wasn't anything serious, and a little over two months afterwards my foot was fine again. I had, however, to stop running for the whole period.

I spoke too soon.

Yesterday I was surprised at how easy I was finding it to stick to 2,000 calories a day – I should instead have shut up and braced myself. For today it was well hard, but I stuck to my meals so far (they were all ready for me to eat, and that helped enormously).

The evening is usually the hardest part of the day for me to go through without eating, but as part of my cunning plan to lose weight I also thought that if I go to bed early I lower the chances to hang about and raid the kitchen cupboards for something to snack on. So the past three nights I started doing my ablutions at 10pm (the habit I am developing this month) and I spent some time reading instead.

Right, here comes the evening then. I am ready. Bring it on (with a side of canned carrots).

Today's Italian word is difficile, which means difficult.

Disclaimer: do not try this at home. Or if you do, remember that it is entirely your responsibility.

I have been eating tinned food for the last thirty-six hours. There's a reason – and a plan – for it.

Over the last two months I stopped monitoring closely my food intake and, unsurprisingly, I put on two stone (twenty-eight pounds, or approximately thirteen kilos). I went from a tried and tested system of 80% control over food / 20% freedom to eat anything, to total anarchy.

I thought I could go back to the old system and very slowly lose the weight, but I feel so uncomfortable carrying these two extra stone around (not to mention that it has made my running an ordeal) that I decided a diet was needed.

I also realised that the way I feel about this is very similar to when I wanted so much to stop smoking but kept failing every attempt and was livid with frustration. So it just made sense to apply the same approach I used when I finally succeeded to stop smoking – six years ago!

During the weekend I wrote down all the ways I could think of to remove or change situations that lead me to overeat, for at least a period of time (this is not a diet that I intend to stay on indefinitely):

• walking past 'forbidden' food while shopping for groceries
• wondering what to have for breakfast/lunch/dinner
• becoming so hungry that food has to be had – now!
• letting blood sugar spike and crash, which starts a vicious circle

I also took into consideration a few elements that can interfere with optimal nutrition or dieting, such as:

• believing that I cannot have a good diet on my current tight budget
• hating cooking for myself
• resenting cleaning up after cooking
• fearing to lose muscle as well (or instead of) fat
• not having enough energy for sports

Enter Tim Ferriss. I recently read his book 'The 4-Hour Workweek' (which I highly recommend by the way) and was intrigued to find out that he had also applied his unique approach to nutrition, and in particular to nutrition for men who are focused on fitness results like himself. His method consists of deconstructing any challenge to get to the core and obtain quick results, and he has successfully applied it to language-learning, ballroom dancing, swimming, martial arts, and of course business, where it all started. The moment I watched him prepare his three-minute 'slow-carb' breakfast I knew that this was going to be the inspiration for my own fat loss (and quick breakfast).

His fat loss diet lists a number of foods that you can eat as much as you want of, but I wanted to set a limit because I know myself and unfortunately I can eat too much of anything, just for the sake of eating. I did not want to spend my days weighing stuff, so I thought that for a while I could live off tinned food. Pre-weighed, pre-calorie-counted, cheap and convenient.

On Sunday I added and subtracted quantities several times on paper until I reached what I believe is a good combination of nutrients (again, as a diet, therefore for a limited period of time). There's fish and chicken, pulses and vegetables, oil and eggs. All good. There is no bread or pasta, nor rice or potatoes, and I know it is not ideal, but these are my trigger foods and just as I stayed away from pubs and clubs when I stopped smoking, I need to stay away from them for a while.

I repeat, some nutrients are missing, but I intend to catch up on Sunday, which for the time being I am maintaining as a day when I can let go of the rules.

So here is my 2,000 calories eating plan:

Breakfast:

• 2 eggs
• 1/2 tin sliced carrots
• 1/2 tin garden peas
• 1/2 tin green lentils

Post-workout:

• Protein shake (2 scoops)

Lunch 1:

• 1 tin tuna in spring water
• 1/2 tin sliced carrots
• 1/2 tin garden peas
• 1/2 tin red kidney beans
• 1 teaspoon olive oil

Lunch 2:

• 1 tin tuna in spring water
• 1/2 tin sliced carrots
• 1/2 tin garden peas
• 1/2 tin red kidney beans
• 1 teaspoon olive oil

Afternoon snack:

• Protein shake (1 scoop)

Dinner:

• half a pack (250g) chicken thighs
• 1/2 tin sliced carrots
• 1/2 tin garden peas
• 1/2 tin green lentils
• 1 teaspoon olive oil

After dinner snack:

• Protein shake (1 scoop)

Repeat for six days, take one day off, then start again. However, as I expect to be completely bored with it by Thursday, I am already putting together a comparable plan with different food for the following week.

I shopped for all those tins for a week over the weekend (I could not carry them all home in one go – and I live across the street from a supermarket!), and now I intend not to set foot in a shop unless absolutely necessary. I even considered leaving all cards and cash at home, but my Oyster card (London transport pass) doubles up as a credit card and fast-pay, so that card is the only thing in my wallet now.

I also cooked all the chicken yesterday, made six portions and froze five.

In the evening I open all the tins for the following day and put together the meals. I usually microwave my eggs in the morning, but I keep two hard-boiled ones in the fridge if I am in a hurry and cannot spare even two minutes. And that's because I want all the chances on my side so that I do not need to think of food. If it's time, I know what I should eat and I have it ready for me right there.

I got the idea of a second lunch from Tim Ferriss too. I have it between 4 and 5pm (three to four hours after lunch) and it keeps me going until dinner time without becoming so hungry that I jump on the first quick fix I can find.

The best thing about all of this? My four meals a day for six days cost me (protein powder and herbal teas included) forty-eight pounds.

I am just one and a half days into this project and I have no idea if it is going to work, but I have got a very good feeling about it. I will definitely let you know how it goes.

Interesting programme on TV last night: My Big Fat Diet, about Claire Sweeney stopping to control her food intake and exercise, and putting on two stone in just a few weeks.

The programme was not particularly full of incredible revelations (Sweeney goes to Hollywood where an agent tells her to drop several dress sizes if she wants to get any work – doh). I stuck with it though because it seemed to mirror what has been happening to me recently: after years of carefully checking daily food intake and exercising regularly, I gave up for nearly two months (no time, no energy, no concentration for either) and ballooned too.

Like Sweeney, we are at our best when we control what we eat. Our bodies simply do not know what is good for them, so we must consciously use our brains to talk some sense into them. And very much like her, I am now finding it incredibly difficult to lose the weight, and exercising has become more strenuous because of it.

Today's Italian word is cibo, which means food.

Yesterday I was meant to run a ten mile race I had signed up for, but I did not.

I had trained hard for it because it is a longer distance than my usual runs. I followed a sensible plan, running distances that were 10% longer every week, and even went running on Christmas morning (a necessity really, as damage control for the upcoming lunch).

Then after my longest run, on December 28th, my right foot started aching. I have no idea what I've done wrong, but it still hurts and as I limp a bit, my dodgy left knee is getting a battering too. I might have to go see a doctor.

I obviously skipped yesterday's race. I am gutted but I am still proud of the way I trained towards this goal because it's all about the journey, not the destination.

Today's Italian word is delusione, which means disappointment.

I snore. A lot.

And I eat. A lot. All the time. Day and night.

Surprisingly, although far from ever being skinny, I have so far never been obese.

I thought I simply had a a very active metabolism, but a team of scientists from the University of California, San Francisco suggests another explanation: snoring makes you burn on average 373 extra calories a night (the equivalent of a vigorous thirty-minute gym workout).

On the flipside, snoring also causes sleep deprivation makes you sluggish during the day (thus less inclined to exercise), and more prone to overeating (because of diminished willpower). Check, and check.

I had been considering visiting a sleep clinic to figure out if my snoring can be cured. However, not that it turns out that if I stopped snoring I would put on 3.2 pounds a month, the question is: have I got more chances of holding on to my boyfriend by stopping snoring or by maintaining my figure?

On a related note, Dr B. has recently coined an endearing term for me, I'll let him tell you in the comments if he reads this. I'm not particularly fond of it but it beats being kicked in the shins in the middle of the night so that I wake up and stop snoring.

As you may remember, I was born and raised in Italy, went to school and graduated in the UK, worked in France for seven years, then Italy for another three and since 2002 I have been back in the UK.

I have therefore experienced healthcare (fortunately, as a fairly healthy individual) in three European countries. And in the US too, if you count losing a contact lens while on holiday and having to go see a friend's doctor for a prescription to buy a new one (being uninsured, it cost me a small fortune).

In Italy and in France, when you go to the doctor you always leave with a prescription or a referral. You sort of feel short-changed if you don't, as the BBC correspondent from France Emma Jane Kirby describes in her piece on this week's From Our Own Correspondent. Her take on the French 'heavy legs' syndrome can be listened to on iPlayer until Sunday 21st December (skip to 17:02 to go straight to the segment), or read online.

In the UK on the other hand, three times out of four the doctor shrugs off your condition, tells you to get a grip and only to come back if the condition persists for a number of months. I have learnt to live with it and now I hardly mind it at all, unlike a couple of friends who go back to Italy for treatment when in need. And unlike most of the French who are now having a very hard time facing a new approach recommended by the government and very similar to the British attitude.

So Oprah has stacked on the pounds again.

I have now following her yo-yo dieting for twenty-five years now, looked into every one of her new amazing weight loss regimes, and every single time I saw right through her achievements and found a woman with eating issues.

I have always been very interested in the image and idea of food that each individual has, be it because of family influence, body image unattainable goals presented by the media, or mind tricks that sometimes are not related with food at all but manifest themselves with eating disorders.

See, if even the most powerful woman in the world (according to many) struggles to keep her weight constant day in, day out, it must mean that weight management is a huge issue that is often underestimated and needs more attention.

Sometimes I am horrified at falling right into the trap the media are trying to set up and believing that overweight people simply eat too much and don't exercise. Yes, that is the reason one puts on weight, but you can't just tell people they are fat lazy pigs. What needs to be tackled is the reasons behind these behaviours, and we are not there yet.

Given that

• it takes thirty days to install a new habit
• I suffer from a lack of a bedtime routine, and
• you increase your chances of success when you are publicly accountable,

from today I am going to do the following every night:

• take out contact lenses
• brush teeth
• clean gums with interdental brushes
• put on bruxism mouthguard
• lay out clothes for next day
• pack gym bag
• switch off computer

and post the progress on Joe's Goals (the web equivalent of Benjamin Franklin's 13 personal goals):

And if you are wondering why there is so much oral care in my routine, well, you would do it too if you had spent a fortune at a gum specialist over the last year.

With my three to four gym sessions a week (weight training, abs and a little cardio work) I thought I was fit – until I went for a run with colleagues early last year and was out of breath after a few minutes. So I took up running.

So then I thought I was fit, with my three to four gym sessions and a couple of runs a week – until I played rounders in June and realised I could not sprint as my legs would just jam. So I started high-intensity interval training and added one weights session a week just doing legs weights workouts.

And yesterday I thought I was really really fit, and I played gay rounders again (same rules as proper rounders, but played with so much more style) and yes I could run fast, and stop, and run faster to the next base, and stop, then run even faster all round the pitch – until this morning when I felt a sharp pain at the top of the front of my thighs that makes walking difficult, and crossing my legs virtually impossible unless I lift one leg with both hands. Absolutely nothing broken or pulled, just sore muscles that I had no idea existed.

Compared to the two injuries we had yesterday (my team's captain a player from another team both went for fourth base, met in a mid-air collision and both split their faces open) I was very lucky.

And my team won – by all means not thanks to me, whose greatest achievement yesterday was to manage to bat and hit the ball – twice!

If you are a heavy coffee drinker as I was, just give up coffee like I did seven weeks ago (I used to spend about two pounds a day on it) and you've got one hundred unspent pounds there looking at you.

But then if you count all the diet coke and coke zero I used to drink too (half a litre a day on average), and the occasional frappuccino (at least once a week) it turns out that in seven weeks I have saved 140 pounds. Twenty pounds a week. A grand a year. Practically a very decent holiday somewhere.

And that's not taking into account the fact that I feel much better, I sleep better and therefore have more energy, and – surprisingly – my blood sugar is now stable: it has been weeks since the last time I experienced food cravings at night, or feeling faint in the middle of the day.

Giving up caffeine was one of the best decisions I have made in the last few years.

One of the most obvious effects of having given up caffeine completely is that, after four days of 24-hour headaches, I started to sleep. Oh yes I sleep, and how I sleep! Naps in the afternoon at the weekend, snoozes on the couch in the evening, and once even on the way back from work on the tube. I think I might have dribbled a bit. I hope I did not fart.

Until today, my favourite 'me' time was left untouched. Bright and early at 5.30AM, day after day, I answer the call of the bladder, look at the time and rejoice in the fact that I've got one and a half hours to do exactly what I want to do. That is when I reply to emails, check Facebook, read feeds and news, catch up with recorded TV and with stuff on iPlayer, listen to new music and plan the day ahead.

The other morning I went for the usual early morning slash… and I went back to bed. Until 7. And then I had to do what everybody else does, which is get ready very quickly and rush through the door.

On one hand, I did not like it. Leisure is always preferable to pressure.

On the other hand, I managed to do the essential tasks I had to in about fifteen minutes, instead of diluting them into ninety minutes of perfecly useless (but one hundred per cent pleasing) surfing.

If only I did not feel fantastic without caffeine, I'd have a triple expresso just because it's more fun.

If you follow my short updates on Twitter or Facebook, you will now that I have given up caffeine on Saturday, and that I've been crippled by headaches ever since.

I knew my caffeine intake was way above sanity (about 10 cups a coffee and a couple of 500ml bottles of coke zero during the day, and two or three mugs of tea in the evening) and wanted to do something about it.

Knowing myself pretty well by now, I had a very good feeling that cutting down was going to involve a lot more energy than stopping altogether. After all, I failed every single attempt to cut down smoking, but when I went cold turkey five years ago, it worked and I have not smoked since.

So I started my Saturday with a mug of peppermint tea. Incidentally, I like peppermint tea, so it's not a big effort. I had a couple more cups during the morning, then at around lunchtime the headache started.

I must add at this point that I was also trying to cleanse and detox by trying out the Master Cleanse during the weekend, so I thought the headache was due to insufficient calories, or a reaction to maple syrup (Dr B. said it gives him headache).

However, by evening the Master Cleanse was out of the window, I ate and I drank and a darn good idea it was. But the headache was still there, I went to bed with it and I woke up with it too. It followed me all day on Sunday, laughed at the painkillers I threw at it, and again on Sunday night I fell asleep with the back of my head throbbing and sending discomfort down my spine.

Yesterday and today I have been feeling better, the headache is coming and going, I cannot put my finger on what makes it worse – but I have noticed that working out makes it disappear.

I am very surprised by my body's reaction to caffeine withdrawal, it feels oddly familiar and I recoil in horror because it is very similar to the first few days of each and every one of my (near-monthly) attempts to stop smoking. Is caffeine really that addictive? Or – shudder – am I allergic to peppermint tea instead?

I was reading how big companies have started to realise that 'your home page is Google', and the given example was how if you search for Diet Coke the third result is 'Don't Drink the Diet Coke', which links aspartame to depression and bipolar disorder.

Of course, I had to check. I could not find the result in question on google.co.uk (it is #4 if you search on google.com though). However, I started reading the following articles found among the first ten search results:

• One month without Diet Coke (a guy ditches it and feels so great he never goes back)
• Diet Coke to drop additive in DNA damage fear (phased out by the end of the year, i.e. we're all still drinking it)
• Behind the Label: Diet Coke (benzoates combined with acids in Diet Coke create carcinogen benzene)

This is nothing I didn't already know, but seeing it once again is going to make me think twice before grabbing a coke next time I feel like one.

Being born in Italy, and having lived in France for six years, I used to have an overly medicalised view of health. People in Italy go to the doctor as soon as the smallest thing appears to be ever so slightly wrong with their body. Doctors in France shower you in medication as the universal solution from any condition, from ingrown toenails to lethargy.

In both these countries, my GPs prescribed free yearly checkups (blood scan, ophtalmologist, dermatologist) because of my family history and genetic disposition for diabetes, skin cancer and thyroid condition (my dad) – and glaucoma and blood pressure problems (my mother).

Once I moved to the UK, I was surprised not to be receving the same sort of attention but soon realised that if you have no symptoms, you don't get to be checked. I used to fret and worry about it, but I have recently started accepting it and playing by the rules, which means no symptoms equals no need to take unnecessary tests.

My approach is now to try and find a balanced way of taking care of myself, looking for symptoms without worrying, and taking the initiative to use the free services I can benefit from.

• I try and eat well at least 80% of the time
• I exercise at least three times a week. As a rule, I try not to let more than two days pass without some form of exercise (usually weights training or running, but at my age a very brisk 45-minute walk at lunchtime counts as exercise too)
• I monitor my weight and take action if it goes up
• I go for an eye test every year (free if you are over forty and a close relative has glaucoma, but also free if you work as I do with VDUs)
• I have not done so yet as I have just found out, but I am planning to book a diabetes test at Lloyds pharmacy (again, free if like me you are considered to be at risk)

Considering my ill luck at the gene lottery draw, I owe it to myself to be a little more careful than the average bloke.

I spent yesterday afternoon playing rounders in Hyde Park. A friend had organised a tournament, the turnout was staggering and our team ended up second of four.

It was a gay tournament, and unsurprisingly I was able to share with many others my memories of always being picked last in sports at school. And reassuringly, I found out I was not the campest runner.

I did not get to play much, as I was out straight away every time. But that's not too bad considering that only a couple of weeks ago I had no idea there even was such a thing as rounders.

What was somewhat scary was that while I was going to first base during the last match my feet froze mid-run. I put my hands forward as I fell and landed on my middle finger, which I can now not bend nor stretch completely.

The feet-freezing thing was weird. It felt as if they were tied together, they just stopped moving all of a sudden. Maybe a member of the opposite team was grabbing my ankles (I guess that's not allowed though).

I am sure my hand is fine (some sort of ligament sprain surely). However, I so would like to show the world my middle finger today (a Monday morning thing) and, well, I am unable to.

Google Docs lets you link a spreadsheet to a web form. Entries via the web form (by yourself or anyone else that you have sent the link to) update the spreadsheet automatically.

I use it as a food diary: I enter the food and quantity eaten in the form (via any desktop browser, my mobile or my iPod Touch), and the data is entered automatically into a spreadsheet where formulas look up the calories for the type of food, multiply them by the quantity eaten, group them by date and create a chart and a Google Gadget.

The chart is contained in the spreadsheet and can be published to obtain a snippet of HTML code that you can embed in any web page (see the example below charting the calories I have had during the last seven days).

The chart updates automatically within the spreadsheet. However, if you want the data in the chart that is embedded in your web page to update, you need to republish the one in the spreadsheet. Moreover, if you modify the data range, chart type or settings in the spreadsheet, republishing the chart is not enough, you will also need to replace the code in your web page.

The gadget can also be embedded into your iGoogle homepage, in which case it updates without the need to republish the chart in the spreadsheet.

There are still a few issues that either are not available or I have not figured out, but on the whole this method can already be very powerful and extremely simple to set up.

Yes, I know I said I was going to stop tracking my calorie intake. But I started putting on weight, and this pushed me to find the simpler solution described above, that lets me enter data only once and visualise remaining daily allowance and trends instantly.

Oggi vado al lavoro a piedi
Today I am walking to work
Literally: 'Today (I) go to work at feet'.

Today is Walk To Work Day.

Yesterday I pledged to walk at least thirty minutes to work, but then I figured out that I could go the whole way in about two hours.

So I am setting off now, equipped with:

1. mobile phone to update Twitter on the way;
2. iPod nano with Nike + to track my speed;
3. gps to tag photos taken on the way (and avoid getting lost);
4. ShoZu to upload to Flickr the photos taken on the way.

Although burdened with all this technology it will take me more like four hours to walk the 10k from home to work.

Ho dormito sul divano
I have slept on the sofa
Literally: '(I) have slept on-the sofa'.

On average two nights a week I sleep on a sofa that is two feet shorter than I am, lulled by the sound of the TV via wireless headphones.

I'll accept it is odd, but most times when that happens, like this morning, I wake up pretty much rested and ready to start the day, so I am unfortunately not particularly motivated to break this habit.

Sorry, what was that? Obesity linked to lack of sleep because

'UK scientists found sleep deprivation led to hormonal changes which told the body to eat sugary or starchy food to provide an energy boost.'

Mug of Horlicks, hot bath and lights out at ten tonight then.

Ho messo su quattro libbre in una settimana
I have put on four pounds in one week
Literally: '(I) have put on four pounds in one week'.

Three and a half weeks ago I decided to stop counting calories and to stop weighing myself every day.

I have put on five pounds during the first two and a half weeks, and another four during the last seven days.

One look at the mirror confirmed that sadly it was not muscle mass gain.

It's no big deal but I cannot afford to put on any more weight, so the old food diary is out again – but I'll still only weigh myself once a week.

Joy.

Oggi mangiamo uova e pancetta per colazione
Today we are having eggs and bacon for breakfast
Literally: 'Today (we) eat eggs and bacon for breakfast'

[audio:http://www.bitful.com/audio/080126_01.mp3]

Do you want to get rid of that little bit of extra weight you put on at Christmas? You are still in time to turn into a gay man and book yourself on a flight to Australia to attend Sydney Mardi Gras. The pressure to look fabulous will keep all temptations away and you'll soon swap evenings on the couch scoffing chocolates for runs on the treadmill chugging protein shakes.

Yes we are on a diet. But today I am going to make Dr B. happy and satisfy yesterday's request to have bacon (from Tesco's Healthy Eating range) and eggs (poached) for breakfast.

And then we'll rush to the gym to burn it all off.

Dobbiamo essere in forma per Mardi Gras
We must be in shape for Mardi Gras
Literally: '(We) must be in shape for Mardi Gras'.

[audio:http://www.bitful.com/audio/080126_02.mp3]

If you want to find out more

You cannot translate 'What are you having' literally in Italian, it simply would not make sense. Instead, you can ask 'Cosa mangi?' (What are you eating) or 'Cosa bevi?' (What are you drinking?). Just like in English, these questions can translate both the enquiry about what is actually eating/drinking that very moment, or the question 'What would you like to eat/drink'.

The Italian equivalent of Mardi Gras would be 'Martedì grasso'. However, in this case you'd probably say it in English because it's the name of a specific event. Besides, Dr B. enjoys poking fun at me when I speak Italian and then suddenly an English word sticks out like a sore thumb.

Today's phrase is

Finalmente è venerdì
At last it's Friday
Literally: At last is Friday

[audio:http://www.bitful.com/audio/080104_01.mp3]

It's been a short week (I worked on Monday, went out on Monday and Tuesday night, had a day off work on Wednesday and was back to work yesterday and today) but I'm very glad the weekend is here again anyway.

I have absolutely nothing planned for the weekend, so I will probably hit the gym for my favourite workouts. I love exercising on Saturday and Sunday mornings, there are not many people around and I have plenty of time to go through all I want to do without rushing. Quite a change from the usual hit-and-run ones before work or occasionally during my lunch break.

So yes, Finalmente è venerdì, which means the weekend is only a few working hours away.

Cosa fai questo weekend?
What are you doing this weekend?
Literally: What do this weekend?

[audio:http://www.bitful.com/audio/080104_02.mp3]

If you want to find out more

• 'Finalmente' means 'at last'. 'Finally' is not translated with 'finalmente', but with 'infine' or 'alla fine' which mean 'in (the) end', 'at the end'. Nothing to worry about, many people get these wrong.
• The names of days and months are not spelled with an upper case initial letter in Italian.
• An accent is used in Italian to indicate that the last syllable needs to be stressed (venerdì) or to distinguish two otherwise identical words: 'è' (with an accent) means '(he, she, it) is', whereas 'e' (without an accent) means 'and'.

A friend sent me this notice he found posted at his gym, which I don't think it's even one of the gayest in town.

You go to a gym? Then you are expected to be supple enough to soap your own back.

Otherwise, they will preserve it as inappropriate behaviour. Preserve, regard, same thing…

It was not without apprehension that last Saturday I set off to go visit my mother in Italy. She had been ill for a while, was taken to hospital for six weeks of tests last spring, but they could not find anything wrong. She was ill again recently, and this time the local hospital sent her to Bozen, a lovely German-speaking town where a little Austrian efficiency must have seeped through the border, helping doctors find what was wrong with my mother and fix it.

Once back from hospital, she sounded in great shape on the phone. As I arrived to her place, I was expecting the usual pasta salad she feeds me when I get there (recipe: overcook pasta, mix with jar of pickled carrots and olives, do not refrigerate so that the warmth makes it all coagulate – serve lukewarm with fork and knife). Instead, my brother had talked her into cooking proper pasta (cooked in advance of course, then kept warm on a plate placed on the pot of hot water it was cooked in) and a bolognaise sauce.

Now, you must be aware that her bolognaise sauce is pretty much the only edible thing she prepares. So un-bad that even I use her recipe when I make it.

Only thing, this time she forgot to add tomatoes. That's alright, since even the original recipe only calls for a couple of tablespoons of tomato concentrate. But she made a lot of it. My nephew was staying with her and my brother, and the four of us ate tomato-less bolognaise overcooked pasta for lunch and dinner on Saturday, for lunch and dinner on Sunday and for lunch on Monday. I peeked at the pot and there was still a fair amount of sauce left. Mother wanted me to take it back to London. I silently thanked the authorities for the ban on liquids on board and politely declined her offer.

She's obviously in form and back to her hopeless cooking ways. I can't wait to be eighty-two and get away with anything.

I have already written about how two days into my holiday my mobile phone reset itself and all data was wiped out.

I saw this as a sign to let go and try not to make a note of absolutely everything, and also told myself that I might not need to keep a food diary any longer. It's been years since I was overweight and surely I can now listen to my body and stop eating when I'm full, right?

Right my (huge again) arse! I have put on almost a stone in a month. If memory serves me right, it will take me twice as long to get rid of it (and it gets harder and harder as I get older). I know from experience that it is going to be a pain, with privations and sacrifices – and this is exactly why I had been keeping a food diary for years, so I could monitor my weight and take action immediately if the scales showed their unhappy face in the morning.

I had a previously planned dinner out tonight (absolutely delicious, I've got very talented friends who can do wonders with vegetables), and a previously planned weekend away visiting friends tomorrow and Sunday. And then it's probably going to be nil by mouth until Christmas.

So now I'm told that my mother has been in hospital for a week. Same medical problems she had a few months ago. She is waiting to hear what they think she has this time, hopefully in a few days and not after weeks like last time.

I could not sleep last night, snoozed on the couch for a bit then gave up and had a Studio 60 marathon.

And right now I am about to engage in the most therapeutic of activities: decluttering. The mood I'm in now? I'd get rid of everything and sleep on a mattress on the floor.