Giving up TV for Lent

The chances are that most of you saw something, however fleetingly, while you ate your tea, got ready to go out or rang your mum. You probably can't remember what programme it was - particularly if it was on Channel Five.

One thing I've learned over the last 40 days or so is just how much time people spend in front of the TV.

I know, because I've spent that time avoiding it.

Since March 1, I've observed the Christian tradition of Lent by trying to stay clear of the box.

The challenge has taken a Herculean effort, particularly during Match Of The Day, The Simpsons, and anything with Carol Vorderman or Kerry Katona in it.

Generally, Christians give up things in the run-up to Easter as a way of getting closer to God. I know churchgoers who have forced themselves to devour the book of 1 Corinthians instead of custard creams during their tea break and the only alcohol they've taken has been communion wine.

Greater numbers of non-believers are also taking advantage of the period as a time to lose weight, save money or stop smoking.

Those wanting a true wilderness experience over Lent should take a leaf out of my book and give up telly next year. Since switching off on Ash Wednesday, I've become a social leper, banished to the fringes of conversations, unable to share in office jokes because I'd not seen the related programme.

Only when you are not watching do you realise how many exchanges begin, "Did you see... on TV last night?".

It is such an all-consuming part of our lives I've found it virtually impossible to steer clear of a screen.

As an experiment, I left my computer for a break and was ordered out of a bedroom because a relative was glued to a depressing documentary about a young lad with a facial deformity. Downstairs the front room was virtually barricaded as another family member sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed at a new David Jason drama.

Even in the quiet haven of the conservatory I could see a telly flickering in a neighbour's house.

The radical decision to switch off our box was designed to breathe fresh excitement into our lives.

One early evening after work I counted the million and one things my wife and I could be doing rather than being comatose in front of the Richard And Judy Show.

"I've made a decision," I announced to my wife, neutralising Channel Four's golden couple with one flick of the remote.

"We are giving up telly for Lent."

In reality, there was rather more debate, but ultimately we both felt it was worth the sacrifice.

Forty days later, tonight we can reach for the on button again.

Do we want to? What awaits us?

Richard Madeley making more hilarious quips about his wife's "wardrobe malfunction" and all the rest.

As an alternative, we've read, spent longer over meals, gone to bed earlier and generally been more active. It's no wonder people in the "old days" had hundreds of kids.

On the downside, we've had a lot of time to bicker, tidy up and generally pace the house in search of something to do. The boredom got so bad one night that we even played Scrabble.

We both cheated a bit towards the end with visits to friends and relatives lasting hours as long as something good like football was within earshot.

I didn't feel so bad about that after a colleague revealed he had given up booze and takeaways for Lent, well almost. Eight pints, three whiskies and a large pizza later, he staggered out of the proverbial wilderness to celebrate his footy team's cup win against their arch rivals. He had lasted 33 days.

I was interested to read some of the Archbishop of York's quirkier ideas for Lent. Dr John Sentamu reckons that making someone laugh, leaving £1 in a shopping trolley and writing a thank you note, are equally appropriate for the period.

They certainly sound less daunting than our test, although I have already planned a purge on Penguin biscuits next year.

Anyway must dash, Coronation Street is on in five minutes, followed by the Dark World Of Dolphins and Filthy Homes From Hell.

How can I miss them?