The cast of The Only Way Is Essex will tell you that the best way to get a summer bod which would make even Mark Wright jel is to follow the one cardinal rule: No Carbs Before Marbs. So, when my summer trip to Marbella was finalised, I chose my abs over the bakery section in Tescos. This is my story, and it is a tragic one.
The first day was fine. Wasn’t hungry, didn’t feel I was going out of my way or hugely altering my diet, except resisting the urge to chow down on a Danish mid afternoon. At dinner, while tucking into a bread roll, a friend revealed that bread counted as carbs. Apparently so did pasta (lunch) and cereal (breakfast). Further research revealed that wine and beer contained carbs. Almost any Oxford student can identify with the pivotal role which alcohol plays in maintaining one’s sanity, and after a quick qualification (no carbs before marbs, except for booze) we were back on track.
Day two revealed that you had to eat a hell of a lot of fruit for it to count as a suitable breakfast. 12 apples later, and I was off to a lecture feeling hungry and a fairly acidic. By 6 o’clock I was miserable, tired and ravenous, deeming Camera to be the most effective pick me up I ventured out into the night with a bottle of vodka, in my belly.