Weightloss sunglasses exist.

Really.

Apparently blue is the least appetising colour and, therefore, blue-tinted glasses – the theory goes – discourage the wearer from eating everything within reach.

More research may be necessary.

Chocolate chip cookies on a table? Unfortunately, sunglasses (and we can’t emphasise this enough) would be an insufficient barrier.

We stumbled on the miracle glasses online while doing some research about fitness classes (blame Google for the strange auto-correct).

Like cookies, there’s a fitness class out there to suit everyone’s taste, and many sound just as ridiculous as food-repellant sunglasses.

Take "Prancercise", for example. Inspired by a horse's gait, it's horrifyingly ludicrous. And yet, we can be sure there are people out there – in public – following its routine every day. We suspect, though, numbers might be small. Even if it's only for 45 minutes once a week, few people when they are exercising want to look like Phoebe from Friends dancing to Gangnam Style by Psy.

There are, thankfully, more discerning choices when it comes to fitness classes. And the names are inviting: “Body Sculpt”; “Core ’n’ Tone”; “Curve Conditioning”. But most sound a little too much like tinkering at the edges.

Where are the classes for people who want not a small trim, but a radical new look?

Where are the classes called “Destroy & Rebuild”? Where’s “Hammer ’n’ Chisel”? Of course, if they did exist those who needed them most wouldn’t go. The harder the workout, the more participants resemble the instructor.

My local country gym does not list “Prancercise” as an option. It does, however, offer “Spinning”.

Sitting on a stationary bicycle for 40 minutes, listening to music while partaking in low-impact exercise did not seem particularly taxing, and so it was viewed and chosen as the sensible option. (While this column is currently concerned with a fitness drive, a glance at the small print will reveal a requirement that the least amount of energy be used in the endeavour.)

However, there was that niggling initial concern: that paying to sit on a bike that appeared to be missing a wheel should really be trumped by taking a real, already-paid-for two-wheeler out of the garden shed and actually cycling.

But a group workout has one fundamental edge on any individual exercise: you’ll push yourself in a group setting more than you will alone. Far more.

The truth is, it’s difficult to give up when you are part of a collective. It’s far easier to stop when there’s no one else judging you. (And they are judging you.)

And, apparently, no “Spinning” workout is complete without at least one overenthusiastic participant – usually wearing a top that says something such as “Love, Sweat & Gears” – who takes it on themselves to shout regular messages of support to the rest of the class.

It’s slightly creepy, but the class setting is contagious.

Before you know it, you’ve got carried away and you’re nodding at an instructor who’s asking whether they should up the ante. Well, it happened once. It’s positive peer pressure. For whatever reason, it works, even if we suspect the goal of fitness classes is just to get strong enough to kill whoever came up with the idea for the class in the first place.

And, the day after participating in a fitness class with 10 complete strangers, when you can hardly sit because you’re so stiff and sore; your muscles are sulking by making you grimace for every move; and your brain is dizzy from fielding complaints from every part of your body . . . then, you feel it’s all so worth it.

And you’ll even look forward to the next class.

Maybe.

Damian's stats so far
Age: 39
Height: 6ft
Weight: 15st 8lb (-13lb)
BMI: 29.6 (-0.8)
Fat: 30.2% (+0.6)

Figures in brackets indicate change since March 10th, 2015, when Damian started to change his diet and exercise habits, and to write this column.