I AM afraid I am going to be more curmudgeonly than usual over the next few weeks.

Let me tell you why. Two Sundays ago I was sat in our kitchen with Mrs B, tucking into my second Riley’s sausage and thoroughly enjoying a hearty Englishman’s breakfast.

When out of the blue she exclaimed “You’re overweight, unfit and generally a disgrace”. I swung round mouth full to see who she must be talking to. ‘Moi’ was the only other person in the room!

Pinching a line from my fictional hero Horace Rumpole, I do like to refer to Mrs B (behind her back) as she who must be obeyed.

Before I knew it, she has me at the gym and booked in for the Manchester 10K on May 16.

Banned from the Red Lion in Cloughfold, Mannings on Bank Street a No Go area and Chateau River Irwell plonk is firmly corked.

Now I have to admit being 5ft 8in and 17 stone 4lbs isn’t exactly pretty, but I do feel Mrs B was being a little harsh on me. Luckily help was at hand. Bemoaning my fate with the girls at work Rebecca and Shaz from Viva and my wonderful Jane (my right hand man at Tricketts) said they would train with me.

Ha, Mrs Balchin I thought, I may be a lardy pudding but I’m still a babe magnet.

I have named the team Balchin’s Hitches (rhymes with another word) but they prefer Balchin’s Babes.

In my defence, the weight has piled on after my serious sporting injury – I bust my Achilles tendon Greek dancing on holiday in 2008!

A target has been set of 14 stone and 1hour for the 10K (I am 55 remember) and then I will be allowed to sleep inside again.

I’m going to be pounding the streets of Rossendale with the girls.

The point of this column – don’t panic if of an evening your house shakes it’s not a tremor, just me running by. Give me a toot if you see me, I’m the one with ‘pass slowly, wide load’ sign on my back.