I’m two weeks into a detox (no alcohol) and I’ve just signed up with a personal trainer; it must be January. This is an annual tradition in my life, setting myself goals to encourage some focus, drive and commitment through the gloomiest month of the year. It’s a goal doomed to failure of course, as normal life sets in but this time I’m determined to keep aspects of it for the rest of the year.

The drink thing has been fine so far; I’ve just been avoiding pubs, bars, street drinkers and eye contact with our healthy stash of drink left over from Christmas. I’m heading into the third week of no drinking and I did start to feel the benefits of it last weekend, spending an unusual weekend full of clarity and optimism. That will go out the window this weekend, as I head in to my first proper social engagement of 2012; my best mates engagement party. I’m the best man, I should drink really.

Alongside that, I’ve just signed up with a personal trainer, as part of a TV documentary but also because I need to be motivated to do serious exercise and I want to make it part of my everyday life. I’m quite happy playing football once a week and popping in to town on my bike but I would never, ever consider stepping inside a gym. It’s just too manly.

'Hello, I'm Jodie Marsh. Fancy me?'

However, I did just that last week, for my first session and it wasn’t too bad actually. I looked a little odd and a bit awkward but I think, given the right sportswear, I could fit in to that scene. My personal trainer though will also be looking at my lifestyle. This is when it gets complicated.

By lifestyle she means; food, work, stress and sleep. The everyday stuff we just do without even thinking about it. I’m pretty good at the food thing, being a lentil guzzling hippy but I’m probably a workaholic, if I’m honest and sleep, as much as I love it, is not a priority in my life. There’s stuff to be done, I haven’t got time for sleep. Emily, my personal trainer, will change that, no doubt. I’m already calling her ‘Evil Emily.’ Lovely girl but she’s going to cause me a lot of pain over the next few weeks and I know she’s going to get some weird and twisted satisfaction out of that.

But you know what they say….No pain, no gain (or cake for that matter).

Wish me luck.