Media: A Moment with Marquis.

Thank God it's February. It has been some time since I risked the January detox.

Blessed as I am with the body of a Brad Pitt, the New Year fast is not something I have really needed to consider, but anno domini being what it is, the time has finally come when a little restraint must be shown in the calorie department.

Since 12 pounds have dropped from my frame in as many days, I feel a diet book coming on and - who knows - perhaps an exercise video. My secret?

Not eating. I don't mean just chocolate and potatoes and pasta - everything. Broccoli, pomegranate, brown rice - the lot.

Such is my addictive personality that I prefer to starve than endure weeny portions of the things I normally pig out on. Breakfast? Abandoned.

Lunch? A distant memory. Dinner? A cup of Bovril. Perhaps an oatcake.

Alcohol is tough - even for a Trappist monk like me. I have managed several days in 2006 without a drop. I say 'days' though it could be weeks or even months, such is the near-permanent wakefulness induced by round-the-clock sobriety.