IT'S a well walked wedding path for the ladies. The battle with the bulge.

For years the girls have been starving themselves and hitting the gym in the run up to the big day, all so that they can fit into their special dress, a size or two lower than they have worn for most of their lives.

But should a bloke waste his time worrying about his waist? My natural reaction is to say no. I've never been too worried about my weight and my physique. True, I have arm muscles comparable to a bed ridden octogenarian, but I don't think I'm in that bad a shape.

But I am thinking about trimming down for the wedding, and I don't know why. I do remember seeing pictures of my granddad on his wedding day and he looked pretty trim. Then again I'd probably be a bit more svelt if I'd spent a few years dodging Nazi bombs. But looking at the picture of my dapper looking granddad, I thought about maybe shaving a few pounds before the photographer captures our "perfect day".

But it seems a bit strange to be thinking about these things. Yes modern man makes use of moisturisers, facial washes and other tools from the lady's realm, but should he be sweating over how he looks in the wedding pics?

I'm starting to think so. As I said I'm not exactly overweight, but I do have a bit more surface area around my face and neck than I'd like. If I tilt my head down then I quickly resemble the dog from the Churchill adverts. Plus years of being an avid football fan with a season ticket for my couch means that I've invested a considerable sum in developing a decent beer belly.

Getting rid of it may be more difficult. I already go the gym and play football twice a week but don't seem to be shifting any of the beer can calories. I don't eat that badly either.

It must have been much easier for my granddad to keep in shape. He didn't have to contend with the minefield of modern life. He won't have been targeted by the Colonel and his army of tasty chicken treats or been able to pick up a litre of beer cheaper than a litre of water.

But the "problems" of modern life shouldn't be an excuse. I'm going to have to go all Bridezilla I suppose, get to the gym more and start eating things that taste like cardboard. And I don't think I should worry about wanting to shift a few pounds.

But I do have one rule which I'll get my best man to promise. If he sees me trying to squeeze into a girdle on the morning of the wedding he has my permission to knock me out to bring me to my senses.