Another month has passed, and a surprising number of leaflets have been delivered. After all, if I'm going to be walking around, I might as well do something useful. And thus, my ten thousand steps have achieved each day - forty-three consecutive days since my mid-February food poisoning glitch - and my nearly two litres drunk.
My work colleagues are beginning to notice now, and some of the more exotic elements of my wardrobe are coming back into play, all of which is nice.
Ros has, as is her way, been incredibly supportive, calorie counting our meals, accompanying me on my late night village walks, and generally being supportive.
So, what has happened in March? Well, despite a weekend at Spring Conference, where I ate delicious but hardly calorie conscious pork-laden breakfasts, I've lost another 2.4 kilos, making 9.4 kilos in total. For those of you who, like me, still think in imperial measures, that's just shy of a stone and a half, or twenty-one pounds, putting me very nearly three-quarters of the way towards my target for the family wedding in early October.
Interestingly, young Dr Pack approached me in York, suggesting that it was somewhat brave of me to blog my progress as I have. I have to admit that, up until then, I hadn't given it any conscious thought. This, perhaps, says much for our relative personalities, and campaigns experience - the difference between a campaigns professional and a professional bureaucrat?
However, I'm kind of committed now so, until next month, this is twelve-thirteenths of the initial walrus, signing off...
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