Weight Loss Zoltar

At the beginning of the year, I decided that to celebrate my 40^th in July, there would be a calendar of events and I would spend as much time as I could celebrating my “big birthday”. These events have included trips to the theatre, a “Come Dine with Me” competition with friends, weekends away, ghost hunts, a spa day, scarecrow making (don’t ask) afternoon tea and then a couple of amazing holidays.

  It’s safe to say that by the time I stepped off the plane last week at the end of what was technically the last in the calendar of events, I was well aware that not only did I have 7 months of amazingly happy memories, I also had a slightly expanded waistline!

  So from a calendar of birthday events to a Christmas countdown. I unashamedly use the “C” word, “The X Factor” is back and “Strictly Come Dancing” starts this weekend and everyone knows that means Christmas is on the way.

  There’s 13 weeks until the big man arrives, so even if I only lose a pound a week, that’s almost a stone gone.

  As with all great plans, they start with getting on the scales…. Well maybe not all great plans, I’m sure when Christopher Columbus set sail for the new world, he didn’t say “wait a sec chaps, I just need to see how much I weigh before I set off and make history”.

  However, that’s exactly how my plan began (not the new world bit) I got on my scales in my bathroom and had a little cry, according to them I’d put on 5 stones… was that possible? I got off and on again only to discover that I’d now lost 10 stone and was bordering on dangerously thin. I haven’t spent years reading mystery novels not to not have learnt some detective skills. I deduced my scales were about as reliable as the England football team at a major international tournament!

  Heading to the gym, I thought I’d use their all singing, all dancing scales, the ones that measure your height, weight, BMI, shoe size, length of your hair etc. 

   I’d given myself a stern talking to all the way to the gym, that even if the changing room was full, I would still get on them. I would brave the embarrassment of putting my pound in the machine and stepping on them. What did it matter if people were in there? It’s not like they’d be able to hear what I weighed! However ideal scenario…. The changing room would be empty (cue my use of visualization techniques)

  Walking into the changing room, I realized I was good at this visualization malarkey…. The changing room was empty! I made a note to work on the “me and Matt Goss get married visualisation”

  I put my pound in

*** changing room door opens, in walks two thin women***

I take my shoes off and step on the scale

*** changing room door opens again, in walks another woman*

I grab the side handles of the scales…

At that point, a great secret was revealed, it turns out the scales at my gym are the weighing equivalent of flipping Zoltar.

It’s big booming voice echoed all over the changing room “If you want to know your BMI, keep holding on to the handles”

  I could feel myself start to flush scarlet… how far would weight loss Zoltar go? Would he announce to the world my vital statistics, or would I find myself being turned into a 12-year-old forced to launch a comedy style mission to find weight loss Zoltar so I could turn myself back, whilst learning a few important life lessons along the way and cementing my lifelong friendships?

  I began hoping for number 2…. anything rather than those numbers being read out loud!

  Fortunately, weight loss Zoltar then shut his face and simply printed me off a ticket with a helpful suggestion of a goal weight.

  Whilst the ticket didn’t make for pretty reading, I’ve decided it probably deserves a place in my memory book, if only because it signifies the start of phase 2 of the calendar of events. A calendar that involves trips to the gym!