Elvis isn’t dead, as Scouting For Girls once sang. He attends BoxLondon classes at Tooting Leisure Centre and, this week, he landed a fairly solid jab on my nose.

It was my fault, of course. I dropped my guard slightly and was a touch too slow at slipping his left hand.

Elvis – it really is his name; he’s got it stitched into his gloves – was one of several guys I sparred with on Tuesday night.

It made for an interesting challenge. They are naturally faster and hit much harder than women, but I probably am at the point where I need to step up my training a bit.

I can feel my body getting fitter and stronger, so the trick now is to avoid slipping into the comfort zone (although I use the term ‘comfort’ very loosely!).

Having built a fairly solid fitness foundation, I’m determined to kick it up a gear and really start to see some results on the scales.

My partner, who would probably notice such things, tells me my body is changing shape for the better and that fat is probably being converted to muscle.

That’s all well and good but I can only tell myself that for so long before I start to lose heart.

I’ve cut a lot of fat out of my diet, which has basically just demonstrates how much crap I used to eat. I’ve now decided to take a break from alcohol altogether, although that monumental move has been capped at a month. Reckon I’ll need a drink after that.

But I’m after suggestions, too. I’m not talking about the Atkins diet or the latest celebrity fads – just any handy hints that can really shift some wibble-wobbles.

Weight loss so far: 9 pounds