Blaise Tapp: ​It’s farewell to pie and chips … now pass me the couscous

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​As somebody who has spent a lifetime worshipping at the high altar of gluttony, it’s no surprise that I have a propensity to put on weight.

​Ever since I discovered supersized kebabs and reassuringly expensive European lager in my teens, I’ve gradually developed the body shape of a moderately successful darts player. By my mid 20s, I was carrying more bulk than a heavyweight boxer, although my muscle profile was minimal, which is when I first decided to go on a diet.

Back then, the weight fell off - more than three stone in total - just in time for me to skip down the aisle with Mrs Tapp on our wedding day. While I didn’t stay at my fighting weight for too long - honeymoon grub and endless takeaways put paid to that - I was always able to lose extra pounds if I really wanted to.

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That was then, but since hitting 40, the battle against the bulge has become far more difficult, given the fact that I now have the metabolism of a hibernating tortoise and that our cupboards are filled with tasty treats that a sedentary middle aged man has no business eating.

Blaise has set himself a relatively modest target of losing two stone. Photo: AdobeBlaise has set himself a relatively modest target of losing two stone. Photo: Adobe
Blaise has set himself a relatively modest target of losing two stone. Photo: Adobe

My last visit to the bathroom scales convinced me that I could no longer carry on filling my face like it was Boxing Day every day and, with some gentle encouragement, I decided to go on my first diet since the days when I needed comb.

It’s the earliest of days so far but I’ve signed up to the slimming group for an initial six weeks, which at the very least, means a month-and-a-half of weighing out extra small portions of porridge, reacquainting myself with fruit and making a note of every single thing that passes my lips.

We’re told that planning meals are a crucial part of a successful diet, which means that I will have to think about food more than I ever have done before, which doesn’t strike me as especially helpful.

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I’ve set myself a relatively modest target of losing two stone but the reality is that I probably need to lose double that if I want to keep my knees for another 40 years.

Who knows if I will achieve my target but, for now, it’s goodbye to pie and chips and hello to low fat spray and plenty of couscous.