800 calories a day.

That’s been my life for the last month. Sometimes a little over, sometimes a little under. Always... Well awful.

But this isn’t a fad diet. It’s to shrink my liver so the surgeon can actually get in there without needing a sat nav.

The bonus? I’ve lost so much weight my hips have relocated. I go to put my hands on them and just miss.

Flyfour says my butt has vanished. Lisa thinks if I turn sideways, I’ll disappear. The lads in the warehouse keep pointing out my trousers are now “emergency parachute” size.

The real victory has been getting creative with the tiny meals I’m allowed. Two tablespoons of rice, an egg, and veg became “Egg Fried Rice” without the frying. Ten pieces of pasta became a pasta salad so carefully curated it could be in the Tate. I’ve put Hull Chip Spice on so much that it now counts as a food group.

Friends see my meals and say, “That’s so small!” which is weird, because sometimes I can’t finish them.

And through it all, I’ve kept moving. Walking. Jogging. Turning up to Fitness Tribe. My body now lifts, squats, and runs on fewer calories than most people have in a mid-morning snack. It turns out I’m stronger than I thought, both physically and mentally.

When I met my surgeon last week, he said, “Think of the operation as a 10K race… you’ve already run the first 5K.” I nearly cried. Not because I like running, but because I’m halfway through the hardest race of my life.

Recovery will be… interesting. The first few days will involve tubes, drains, cannulas, and a catheter (🤮). I’ll have to eat, drink, and walk whether I want to or not. I’ve told the physio team to play the competitive card. If they tell me someone who had surgery after me is already walking, I’ll be doing laps around the car park before they finish the sentence.


The plan is six weeks of light walking, mid-September for swimming and cycling, and back to Fitness Tribe in mid-November, starting light and working up.

My liver will start regenerating within 30 minutes of surgery. It will not be liver-shaped anymore, just a squishy blob filling the gap. Basically, I’m a modern-day Prometheus without the fire theft or eagle drama.

It will not be pretty. It will not be easy. But I have my team, my family (who also send me beautiful sunflowers thank you Auntie Tracy), my friends and you. Yes you. You are all cheering me on.

That’s my fuel. With it, I’ll get back to my usual bouncy, slightly (😂) ridiculous self.

Let’s go finish this race.