It felt like confession - even though I didn't do anything (terribly) bad.
Breakfast - bran flakes, skimmed milk, orange juice.
Lunch - apple, banana, wee stick of cheddar - provided by the First Lady.
Dinner - home-made fish pie, glass of red wine.
Exercise - none- the only running was out of time.
Guilty pleasure - getting hooked on The Shawshank Redemption late on and staying up until 1 am to watch.
Breakfast - scrambled egg, soda bread (no butter), orange juice.
Lunch - strawberries and blueberries.
Dinner - vegetarian risotto with avocado. Stewed rhubarb.
Exercise - again nothing, too late back from a legal event.
Guilty pleasure - at a legal seminar I had a sausage roll and a ham sandwich, but no booze.
Breakfast - porridge with rhubarb and honey, juice.
Lunch - forgot to bring anything but had an apple left over from Monday.
Dinner - chicken Milanese, green salad. Glass of rose.
Exercise - treadmill run for three miles, testing my knee after the marathon. It, and I, survived.
Guilty pleasure - a bottle of (freezing cold) beer after my run.
Breakfast - flakes, juice.
Lunch - never got my backside off the office chair.
Dinner - Italian sausage casserole, no booze.
Exercise - no time.
Guilty pleasure - crisps.
Wife away with daughter on girls' holiday. H'mmm, I could go out for a curry...?
Breakfast - juice only.
Lunch - pack barbecue chicken from supermarket, sparking water.
Dinner - as healthy as when the First Lady is home, but not so well-cooked. Smoked trout with a salad- beetroot, butter beans, tomatoes.
Exercise - half an hour on the treadmill - three miles.
Guilty pleasure - boiled egg in the salad.
Lunch - wheaten roll, ham and tomato from bakery, water.
Dinner - pasta dish ready-made from Italian deli, two glasses of crisp white.
Exercise - karate in the morning: warm-up, kicks punches and blocks, kata (a kind of martial arts dance) and some fighting.
Afternoon - gardening. Bending and stretching reps (weeding). Pushing, pulling, upper-body rotation and walking (mowing). Weights (clearing branches and leaves). Four hours.
Guilty pleasure - ice cream cone, with squirt of raspberry.
Breakfast - magnificent omelette with tomato, juice.
Lunch - none.
Dinner - odds and ends in the 'bachelor' pad, including tuna, butter beans and some gorgonzola cheese. I won't win Masterchef.
Guilty pleasure - Americano at local place, with scone, butter and jam… and cream.
Exercise - lots more gardening. Three hours, then an hour tidying the garage.
So that's the week that was Austin Lafferty. I don't do calorie calculations, or obsess about thresholds of exercise and intake of food, and the odd devilish treat makes my world go round.
One of the tricks for me and any of you losing/watching weight is to be honest, objective.
Every titbit into your mouth has a cost. One beer in seven days is fine, in fact delicious, a reward for running.
But if I got into a habit of drinking bottles of beer, then over and above the health issues of too-regular alcohol, I would have to face myself in the mirror and say that yes, I am prepared to accept the calories ingested and the cause-and-effect outcome of more weight added to my bulk.
I am not prepared to accept that, I am going in the other direction but the key point is that I make the choice, not just turn off or pretend.
Having said all that, keeping a diary of any sort is a commitment.
I shall return to it on this page from time to time but for now, let's get back to my mentor Dr McCoy from Star Trek.
We should all just eat right and get lots of exercise. Stick with it.