Note to self: No more big Friday nights out for a while.

Boy, was last weekend’s BoxLondon class a struggle. I feel sorry for the people who had to put up with the smell of Magners eminating from my every pore.

I did feel quite smug after dragging my sorry arse off for a 90-minute sweat session, pounding headache and all, when what I actually wanted to do was stay in bed and feel sorry for myself.

I tell you what, though, I was absolutely famished afterwards. Went straight home and inhaled a very large bowl of pasta.

So I’ve learnt my lesson, and this Friday will be a much more subdued visit to Wimbledon, sans Pimms, of course.

Three weeks in to my health kick – which, by the way, is open to sponsors, if anyone’s interested (I think the Sainsbury’s Be Good To Yourself Jo Rooney Weight Loss Bid has a bit of a ring to it) – and I’ve worked out that routine is the most important thing.

Waiting until you feel like doing exercise is hopeless - there’s always excuses, such as being too busy or too tired.

In addition to my Saturday afternoon and Tuesday night sessions with the lovely folks at BoxLondon, I’ve introduced a Thursday evening swim, which fits in nicely with my weekly pub quiz at the Latchmere in Battersea (brilliantly run by Eddie; you should give it a try).

Associating something physical and tedious with something fun makes me a lot less inclined to decide I can’t be bothered.

This is probably the longest I’ve stuck with a concerted fitness regime-healthy eating plan and it’s paying dividends, with the weight finally starting to come off.

There’s still a long way to go, however, so it’s 30 laps or so for me tonight.

Weight loss so far: Half a stone