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Wide Load.

I must be one of the few people on the planet to introduce an hourlong walk to his daily routine for a month and still put on weight.

 To do this requires talent - albeit admittedly one I'd sooner not possess - although to be fair my increased mass is purely supposition; I haven't weighed myself in a while. Yet despite the lack of concrete evidence, it's hard to ignore the loosening of my belt and tightening of my jacket: there's something afoot, and those feet suddenly have a little more to carry.

 Whether I've got heavier in the last few weeks or not, I've definitely put on weight over the past year, which I'm desperate to get rid of. It makes me feel sluggish and affects my self-esteem; I'm almost glad I haven't had a casting for a while as I wouldn't want to commit my increased girth to camera.

 The change is most likely caused by a combination of medication and biscuits. This partly motivated my getting a dog, as I hoped the excuse for more exercise might help knock off a few pounds and improve my mood. So far, it's helped the latter but not the former, but there's still time; I either need to increase the length of our walks or knock my snack block of butter on the head. Until then. I might train my dog to chase me.
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