The 45 minute, once-a-week programme which has totally changed up my body - in six leetle weeks

Also: going slightly mad - in a very different way - because my book is (whisper it) I dunno: kinda… successful and liked?

But first: this heavenly illustration of my dog, Rita, by my friend, neighbour, former colleague, and talent Graham Kibble-White.

RIGHT?

Question IS: which background? Light green, lilac or RACING green? (RACING must be capitalised, yes.)

What do you reck?

Graham’s building up to accepting commissions, follow Graham here on Instagram, and tell him he has to.

Next. It’s a fortnight today since my book, How The Female Body Works, launched. Do buy it if you haven’t already. Lorraine Kelly called it…

It’s been going insanely well. It’s selling. I’ve been on Lorraine AND Vanessa. And the front of The Mail and The Times. People keep saying wonderful things about it.

This is beautiful and overwhelming and confusing and a bit of a head f**k. Because of course it’s what you want! Books are hard , and they’re long … They’re like relationships. You invest a lot of time and a lot of heart - so you really want them to work. But equally, it’s not healthy having so much, so intensely, about you, for any period of time. It spoils you, as surely as it’d spoil a child; stops you being quite so capable of thinking about other people. Takes the edge of your normally voracious (borderline intrusive) interest in them.

So I’ve had to put a psychological kibosh on that, sharpish. (God it must be horrendous to be famous!)

The other thing is, how much of a contrast it is from the publication of my first book, which got… Bullied, is probably the best way to put it. My first book got bullied. Maligned and Mean Girl’d by people who - literally didn't much like my face. The messages I got then, were as awful - truly, sickeningly, distressingly, AWFUL - as the ones I’m getting now, are gorgeous. I ended up as a semi-broken-down mess, it took me six months, maybe even a year, to crawl out, to fully recover - and another decade altogether, to dare publish another book.

I don’t know yet, how that contrast will settle with me, psychologically. There’ve been times when, how lovely the experience with How The Female Body Works, is, makes me ragingly angry about how awful the Hot Feminist experience was. How unfair, how cruel and how not genuine, how cynical, on behalf of those who perpetuated it.

But there are times - more of them, honestly - when it feels like I’m getting a little insight into what it will mean, to have been healed by this, my second book. I’m both seeing the full extent of how much book one hurt me (there were times, directly after the publication of my first book, when I couldn't walk past book shops, couldn’t look at my own face in the mirror. Writing had been the one, reliably safe thing in my life, for the whole of my life, to that point. If it was suddenly causing me so much pain - what was left?), but also, simultaneously, the relief of this new one, which really does seem like it might, finally, properly fix me, after the first.

(A friend asked me if publishing this second book was - as I’d described the experience of the first one, to her '- like: Having a baby, then sending it straight to war.

“Nope,” I said. “This is like having a baby, then sending it straight to Club Tropicana.”)

Now.

About how I actually really have TRANSFORMED MY BODY IN JUST SIX WEEKS OF ONE OFF, 45 MINUTE SESSIONS.

I’m serious! Wanna see? OK then…