Showing posts with label Bruno Mars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bruno Mars. Show all posts

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

F.C.L (Fat Club Lie)

I read a Facebook post today which really made me laugh about the rules of “Fat Club”, I’ve shared it on my Facebook page if you want to check it out. The reason it made me laugh so much is because it’s all TRUE!

  Fat Club is unlike any other club you’ll ever join, because it’s a place where you can do the following;



I think I admire my Weight Watchers more than anyone else in the world, because every week she smiles and nods and manages to avoid shouting “what a crock of s**t” at the top of her voice.
   
Week after week (and I include myself in this) people who are good, honest and decent people, the type of people who would help an old lady across the road, who bought a red nose for Comic Relief and instill the virtues of telling the truth to their children, stand before another human being and lie.
 
Picture the scene, it's a draughty church hall, there's a line of people wearing their lightest close and flip flops despite the weather and they have a look of slight fear and dread on their faces. The conversations in the room  go something like this;

Fat Club Guru; “have you had a good week?”
You; “yes, I’ve stuck to the plan all week”
Fat Club Guru: “you’ve put 3 pounds on”
You: (*looking sad and shocked and gutted*) “WHAATTTTTT???? I don’t know how that happened, I genuinely don’t know how I’ve managed to put 3 pounds on. I’m gutted”

If you’re a real pro at the “FCL” (Fat Club Lie) you manage to shake your head as you put your shoes, jumper, belt, earrings, bracelet back on… all the things you took off in the vague hope that when you got on the scales your week of lies wouldn’t show up! You then walk off looking sad, disappointed and a little dejected.
 
  The first time you do it, it feels strange, slightly odd, there’s adrenaline coursing through your veins! Like the first time you drink alcohol or smoke a cigarette when you’re a teenager! There’s a sense of danger, the thrill you are obviously flouting the rules.

  The lie ..... it’s only a little one, like the one you tell your mum,

Mum; “Have you been smoking?”
You: “No, there were some older kids at the party they were smoking”

You know, she knows your lying, you know you’re lying, but will she say? Will you crumble and tell the truth? Will she challenge you? Will some kind of thunderbolt actually strike you down?

Not actual scene from my teenage years, I was never hit by a thunderbolt.


  It doesn’t….no one says a thing…. You’re home dry and then (SPOILER ALERT) just like Kevin Spacey at the end of “The Usual Suspects”, the moment you leave Fat Club and your out of view of the Leader, your swagger returns, your hunched sad shoulders straighten, the smile dances around your lips and you get in the car and turn Bruno mars up full blast (*Bruno Mars is optional in this scenario)

You’ve done it!

Now all you have to do is drive to a chip shop just far enough from class that none of your fellow conspirators might see you, but close enough to home that your chips don't end up cold!


NOTE FROM KATIE– I’m writing this for a friend, I’ve never resorted to such treachery!

Friday, 20 February 2015

The Phone Call of Shame

“Ring Ring, Ring Ring” (or in my case, because my ringtone is “Uptown Funk”, it’s a quick burst of Bruno giving me some ...



ME: “Hello”
VOICE ON PHONE (VOP): “Is that Katie?”
ME: “Yes”
VOP: “hello, this is Matt from your gym, we just wondered if you were OK?”
ME: “Yes I’m fine, why?”
VOP: “well you haven’t been for a while and we wondered if we’d upset you?”
ME: “oh no not at all, I think the gym is wonderful and your teachers amazing, the staff are generally lovely, you haven’t upset me at all, I’ve just been really busy with work”
VOP: “Will you come back soon?”

ME: “Yes of course”
VOP: “When?


By the end of the conversation, I felt so guilty that I promised faithfully to go to the gym on Sunday morning and to go and find him to say hello, so he knew I’d kept to my word. I haven’t had boyfriends who cared about my welfare as much as Matt from the gym! Maybe I should date him!

  It did make me feel bad though, because oddly I really do enjoy going to the gym and I love Just Jhoom and Zumba and I even find it oddly enjoyable when I get to go first thing in a morning and spend half an hour on the treadmill listening to whatever randomly pops up on my iPod, although this is my new favourite work out tune at the moment!




The reason for causing my gym to worry is that I’ve genuinely been so busy with work and travelling around the country that I haven’t had time. The time I have had has been spent either catching up on housework or making sure the dogs are walked. Although apparently a 6-mile walk for Buddy wasn’t enough on Saturday!
Buddy wide awake & raring to go after his work....Cyril  having a kip!



 Even though I appear to have moved into my car, I have been sticking to my diet and on Tuesday faced a massive temptation! Lucy and I had to go to Portsmouth for a meeting and because we had allowed ourselves some “getting lost time”, which we didn’t we had time for a brew. Nipping into a branch of Subway, I ordered us a coffee and this is what happened.

ME: “2 coffees please”
LADY BEHIND THE COUNTER (LBTC): “would you like a cookie to go with it?”
ME: “no, thank you” (feeling virtuous, halo glowing a little brighter)
LBTC: “They’re free”
ME: “No, really it’s fine”
LBTC: “Would you like the receipt so you can have a free cookie, the next time you come in?”
ME: almost crying, “Please don’t make me eat the cookie”


  I appreciate the lady was just trying to be nice and having eaten Subway cookies in the past, I know they’re delicious, but and this is the weird thing; since I was hypnotized, I haven’t touched any form of chocolate, cake, biscuit or desert. I wasn’t sure I could say to the woman behind the counter, “the reason I don’t want your cookie, is because I’m fat and the reason I got fat was because I ate too many delicious cookies and now I’ve been hypnotized and so I think cookies smell like dirty toilets and taste like shit, so please stop offering me pieces of shit”

  Taking the positives from the week, I’ve made a new best friend from the gym and managed to clock up 5 weeks without any form of sweet stuff, I’m taking that as a win!

  

Thursday, 15 January 2015

"Four!!"

The first weigh in after you’ve (re) started your diet is always the scariest. I'm starting to think I've had more comebacks than Frank Sinatra! Last week, I really gave it my all;  I have counted, pointed, tracked, exercised and followed my DNA Fit plan to the letter. As I approached the scales, I felt a little bit like Jack Bauer in “24”, (spoiler alert!) It felt like that bit when he sacrifices himself to the Russians in order to save Chloe. Maybe slightly over dramatic, as Lucy wast standing at the scales crying "don't Katie, you don't have to do this" and I at no point, whispered dramatically "Damn it Lucy" Still, it was pretty nerve wracking! 

  That first weigh-in can go one of two ways; either your body goes “finally some sensible eating” and responds and you lose weight. or it goes “seriously dude, where’s the 4 tonnes of chocolate you’ve been eating, help, panic, I’m starving, save yourself” and you either stay the same or maybe put half a pound on.

  Fortunately for me, my body was delighted to no longer be eating a vat of Nutella and doing stuff other than sitting on the sofa and exercising my remote changing finger. 

  Turns out it’s quite enjoyed a 6 mile dog walk and early morning trips to the gym, where I can get my freak on to Bruno Mars (by “freak on” I mean peddling furiously on an exercise bike and walking on a treadmill, that’s the definition of “freak on” when you’re 38!) 



I lost 4 pounds this week, and as a result was given 8 little pebbles, which my Weight Watchers leader, Helen gave me. Helen gives everyone a pebble for every half pound they loose, I enjoyed the sound of mine clanking into the bowl!

My 4 pound pebbles

  I’ve never considered myself competitive either, but my Dad and I have both treated ourselves to a FitBit. These are bands that you wear around your wrist and they monitor your activity throughout the day. I suggested to Dad, we wear them round our ankles, but as he pointed out, we'd just look like we were "on tag" They also sync with your Weight Watchers app, so they automatically count your points. The aim is to do 10,000 steps a day, which is harder than it sounds, particularly when you sit at a desk. I keep getting up and walking round the office and at night, there’s a lot of running up and down stairs!

My FitBit


  Without really saying, Dad and I are now competing to see who can do the most steps and earn the most bonus points! Dad was most upset when I got my 5,000 steps badge before him!


  Still with 4 pounds gone, I’m on track to meet my 7 pounds target before I head to London to see Matt Goss, next week!