Age shall not wither her

Blimey, October already! How did that happen? Especially as, if you're a keen reader of this blog, you'll know that I'm turning 40 this month. In four days' time, actually. Eek! How did that happen? When I was busy making resolutions and plans for a big party, it seemed ages away. 'Ah, it'll practically never happen', I thought. But then, as it always does, time got on a very large horse and galloped away from me and now, here I am, savouring the last few days of my 30s. Or clinging on to them like a fat man with a box of doughnuts.

At any rate, I thought it'd be good to do a progress report on this year's pre-40 resolutions, so here goes:

1/ Undergo incredible chrysalis-to-butterfly transformation
At the start of the year, this seemed highly unlikely. I've done diets, I've done healthy eating, I've had regular run-ins with exercise, I've read countless diet books and articles about tricks one can deploy in order to lose the lard; I've had 'big occasions' to aim for, at which I would look better in the photos afterwards if I were slimmer. Some of them worked for a bit, some made me miserable (the accidental 'stress diet' of the first three months of this year, say), all of them, to a greater or lesser degree felt like a giant chore and made me feel deprived.

But moving out of London, and (not too sound to wanky about it) trying on a different 'self' in so many ways has done the trick. I can't say it'll last - winter weather being what it is, and a Catholic church-ful of guilty pleasure TV hitting the box - Spooks, The Apprentice, Strictly, X-Factor - I can envison falling off the exercise band-wagon with an almighty thump. In the meantime, however, I've been going to the gym like a maniac, partly because of James and his Callipers of Doom (they're a great motivator), and partly because for once, I actually like going. I'm also trying my best with the 'giving up carbs' element of the fitness programme (excellent: I now feel guilty if I eat a piece of bread - that part's not really progress) and have been ingesting fish oil and drinking water at a rate that wouldn't disgrace a killer whale. I haven't had chips in ages, I'm not drinking much (other than the odd glass of red wine) and I'm not craving chocolate that often. Although I very meanly made one of my colleagues go out for a packet of Jaffa Cakes the other day, as we were all obsessing about biscuits, and then I didn't eat any of them. Which I think is a major coup.

As a result of all this, the second time I got measured (10 days after my first encounter with the CoD), I'd gone down from 22.6% body fat to 18.something-%! How mad is that? Totally wasn't expecting it either, as I didn't feel any different. I'm now prescribing industrial-strength fish oil (get 'em from Holland and Barrett) and pints of water to anyone who'll listen. I've got another mortifying measuring session this evening. I'm wondering whether I should 'fess up to the raisin Danish I ate yesterday that was as big as my head. I was feeling in need of sugar, bored of being good and rebellious - not a good combo. I'm happy to report, however It. Was. GLORIOUS. Well worth the billionty calories.

My friend John just emailed, saying that he now has a vision of me, Lara Croft-style, in a computer game where I kick the shit out of various authors and agents, while trying to reach the golden pain au chocolat. I love this idea and have named it 'Points Mean Pralines'.

So, to sum up, I have lost some weight and I'm happy about it. It's not Natalie Cassidy, 'look I've shed so much lard that I can justify having an exercise DVD and a 6-page spread in OK!' levels, but I'm pretty damned chuffed (and I managed to fit into a UK size 6 denim skirt in Gap the other week. Their sizing is nuts, and I had a 10-minute battle to get the thing off again, but still, it was a fair old thrill.)

The downside? Turns out exercise and eating properly does work. No magic solution, just hard graft. And not much of a social life, unless you have lots of friends who are gym freaks.

2/ Finish off my flat
Yay, I did it! Albeit literally an hour before I moved out of it (and with thoughts that the walk-in wardrobe could still be made to look like something worthy of Living Etc one day, instead of just a strange cupboard with a second-hand hanging rail in it). Part of me wished it was me that was moving into it instead of tenants, but now I have more space than I know what to do with (a spare room; a mass of cupboards; a kitchen so large I get lost in it; a walk-in wardrobe that previously housed a piano; an actual entrance hall) and to my mum's delight, it's a 15-minute walk from John Lewis.

After showing her an estate agent's window when she and dad came to stay recently, she got really over-excited and started insisting I buy a flat. 'I've only just moved into this one!' I protested. That didn't stop her and my dad going on a parental ram-raid round John Lewis, buying me things (bless 'em). Including a rug - the first one I've ever owned. Turning 40: it's all about the soft furnishings. I felt like a fresher (new non-stick pan, new wine glasses, new cutlery, decent pillows to replace the rubbish ones in the flat,etc), especially as, after they'd gone, I had an attack of the Sunday evening blues which felt very much like starting a new term.

3/ Go internet dating
Well, admittedly, I haven't done this, but I think my real-world dates with the MMMC must count for something. Yes, he's still texting, emailing and offering to take me out, paint my walls (I'm assuming this isn't some modern sexual euphemism) and even, the other day, sorted out my telly for me, which had previously resisted all attempts to get it to actually produce a picture. All of this chivalric effort has still not resulted in me fancying him, which led him to text after our previous outing: 'Nice to see you tonight, obviously keen to see more of you [MORE? We see each other once a week! I can't imagine seeing anyone more than that, unless I work with them], but sense you just like being friends, which is also cool, but if reading it wrong let me know'. A gent to the last - doing the 'where's this going?' chat on text, rather than face to face - I love technology sometimes. A relief - and he's now revealed a hidden love for Strictly, so we spent all of Friday and Saturday's episodes texting rude comments to each other about the celebs, costumes, judges and presenters. He seems to reserve particular bile for Alesha. (Perhaps he had a thing for Arlene?!)

John, who gets today's prize for being funny, suggests I need a Highland Fling to kick off my 40s (can't believe no-one's suggested this was what my dalliance with the MMMC was), so I might yet join Guardian Soulmates and try to write a profile that suggests I have a personality, but not that I'm deranged. It's a tough line to walk, that one. (See Enormously Irritating Katie on this week's X-Factor; I literally screamed 'NOOOO!' at the telly when Cheryl put her through).

4/ Do something new
Although I didn't manage to attempt to tango or join a choir, try some life drawing or learn to drive, I think the whole 'moving job, house (twice) and city' covers 'do something new' quite admirably. Having such a big change is a good way to kick-start the new decade and I'm really glad I've done it.

God only knows what will go on the resolution list for 2011 (win Nobel Prize? Marry Prince Harry? Have my life made into a reality series?), but I'm very glad that this year's been one in which lots of things have changed - and mostly for the better.