Damn you, Rona. You said I'd be beautiful.

The first couple of weeks of the dread Miss Rona's reign, I was crushing it. We'd usually walk the dog early in the morning — like really early. I'd do a massive work out under the house in the middle of the day, just to break things up. And then in the evening I'd do another walk, say twenty minutes or so after dinner, around the local streets, which are punishingly hilly.

According to my Apple Watch I was smashing out nearly 1500-2000 calories a day. Unsurprisingly, I started to lose weight, which was cool.

But I think it might also have had something to do with all my favourite cafes and restaurants being closed, because I, er, seem to have found that weight again since they reopened.

Turns out you just can't eat confit duck and creamy parmesan mash at Mosconi and get away with it.