I'd be a stone cold liar if I said that throughout all of this exercise and denying myself of luxuries such as beer, beer and beer (with the odd night on the guiness thrown in), that potentially hooking a nice lass wasn't somewhere in the back of my tired, detoxicating mind.

A liar of Blair like, yes siree there are WMDs in Iraq so lets go to war whether the country wants to or not, type proportions.

Sadly, as of yet though, all I'm to find is that behind this whole 'my body is a temple' it's all work and no Pwhoaar. I haven't even had a mild insurgency; whilst talk of improvised devices are unfounded. One shouldn't be too surprised though considering I was once described as the lovechild of Jonathon King and Brian Wilson from the Beach Boys.

Sure, I have had the odd compliment, some have even said I don't look odd, but my slimmer frame has proven to be more of a flack magnet and a general Weapon of Mass Disappointment than a finely tuned, heavily armed, attack chopper. Take this exchange when I visited the advertising department this morning: Chantelle: Have you lost a load of weight?

Me: Yeah thanks, I've just cut out the ale, work out, and I'm eating well.

Chantelle: you're looking good for it - how much have you lost?

By now all the girls on the recruitment sales desk had their eyes on me, so puffing up my chest, and gathering a little swagger...ladies! ladies! ladies!

Me: Thanks very much. Well, at Christmas I was 15 stone 4lbs, and now I'm at 13 stone 7lbs.

A girl: You're looking really well for it Me: Thanks, it's difficult and hard work, but thanks, seriously, thanks!

My pride was beginning to inflate and tensing up my stomach muscles, I manouvered my arm into a position which flexed my newly toned biceps.

Chantelle: You haven't really been doing all that exercise though have you really?

Ha! Ha! Little did she know....

Me: Yes I do! I did another 50km last night. It's easy, you stick a dvd on, and pedal away for 90 minutes.

Chantelle: Well, it's doing the trick if you are...Shame, really that nobody fancies you isn't it.

Put down with one shot like a mangy lame dog. I'm not an animal though, I'm a human being, and in this case I was best as a human going, so a hasty retreat I beat. Waddling off with the heat of a blush rising to my head.

So what lesson is to be learned? Don't fight battles that you can't win? Definitely. Know your enemy? absolutely but in my case this is almost an impossibility. In a no-win situation it's always advisable that if 'you can't beat them join them' so I'm off to New Look and Claire's accessories to tranny myself up.