Who Ate All The Pies

Standing in front of the mirror as I brushed my teeth, dancing slightly to a contemporary pop classic, I turned to reach something and, there is was to my horror, the definite and clear beginnings of a protruding gut hanging over my boxer shorts.

As someone with the metabolism of a greyhound, weight gain has never been a concern. Quite the opposite in fact, there have been times - most notably in my student days when three meals a day were viewed as an unnecessary expense - when family members have pleaded with me to eat a proper meal.

But suddenly, at the age of 28, my body is changing shape. What I had once welcomed as my "filling out" stage had turned into my expanding gut stage. All those late night takeaways, ready meals and beer had finally caught up with me. S***

There are some people who wear their beer guts like a badge of honour, evidence of all the wild nights drinking they had in their youth - particularly those rather stupid looking Newcastle United fans who still think it's funny to show off their man boobs by standing top less at away games in the middle of January. But not me, nope, I don't want to wear a beer gut at all thank you very much.

However, I fear, if I'm not careful, I'll end up looking like a Teletubbie, a bloated, bald hack who professional athletes secretly despise when they are interviewed because it is patently clear the coughing and spluttering journalist in front of them has not taken part in a sporting activity since they left school.

Of course, there are people who are born tubby and there are people who cannot help being obese - although there are also those who can but eat too many pies and cakes - but I am not one of them.

I am athletic - oh alright skinny - I need a belt to wear my jeans not a special tailor to get some to fit me and a special contraption to lift my chunky frame out of bed in the morning.

So, that is it, I'm going to join a gym and one day, one day I am going to take part in the Great North Run. I'm going to train for months, watch what I eat, do 50 sit-ups every day and 25 press-ups. I'm going to fine-tune my body into a running machine and take part in one of the North's greatest events and raise lots of lolly for a worthwhile charity - as a part-time smoker I lean towards Cancer Research.

Mind you, best not to rush these things eh? One step at a time, got to walk before you can run and all that. Best find a gym first! But honest, I'm going to do it, it's all about will power.....

For those of you who managed to do just that this weekend, my congratulations and respect!