Brendan O'Connor: 'The weighing scales is lying to me again'
There was no doubt about it. The scales was lying. It was clearly broken. Then again, it seemed to be working. It was turning on and settling on a weight when I stood on it. It was just overstating my weight.
Maybe it needed a new battery. I had the new battery I bought for it the last time I thought it needed a new battery. So I weighed myself, and then put in the new battery, and weighed myself again. It didn't need a new battery. I put the new battery away again for the next time I think the weighing scales needs a new battery.
My capacity for denial is extraordinary. There are jeans and shirts that I have temporarily retired right now because I can't button them properly, but somehow I was able to ignore that and decide that the scales was the problem. As if that wasn't bad enough, then the Fitbit joined in. It kept dropping laps in the pool.
So I might look at the Fitbit after I knew I had done the difficult initial 10 laps, but the Fitbit would somehow have only picked up eight of them. Clearly it had wet brain. Its timing was way out too. I'm no sprinter in the pool but the Fitbit was claiming it was taking me way longer to do 100m than it used to take me to do 100m before Christmas. All this technology. So unreliable. And no way of checking it when it goes wrong.
In the olden days you could check weighing scales. As far as I remember I used to head out to Connemara and places like Inishbofin with my Uncle Jack, who had the most beautiful set of copper or brass weights. I was very young, but as I recall it, he would drop into various shops and check the scales with his weights. And have a chat and maybe a cup of tea while he was at it.
In the end I had to accept that this was not a case for the Weights and Measures Garda. Between the jeans and the shirts and the scales and the Fitbit, I was the common element. Either all of them were lying to me, or I was. It was time for me to stage an intervention with myself. I took myself into a room under the pretence of sitting on my ass watching TV and I confronted myself with the truth.
"Brendan, I appreciate that this is hard for you to hear but you have to accept that you began Christmas on December 1. You ate pretty much non-stop for nearly six weeks, idly popping rubbish in your mouth whenever you felt vaguely bored, or happy, or relaxed, or stressed. For the same period you were tippling away. You have a problem. And this problem is not only putting a strain on you. It is putting a strain on your clothes. It has to stop."
Dr Eva has spoken of the notion of the Christmas half stone. And the importance of getting rid of it after Christmas. Otherwise, obviously it stays there. And you add the next Christmas half stone to it. The good news is that in my experience, once you get yourself in hand and act quickly, Christmas weight comes off almost as easily as it went on. Most of it.
I have a range. It's a half-stone range that I try and get down to the bottom of initially but then I don't mind if I drift up towards the middle of it. But if I go above the upper limit of it, then I'm supposed to act, because if you let it go past that, the sky is the limit.
Obviously that all went out the window a bit for a while there. So my first challenge was to get back down to even the upper limit of my acceptable range. After two weeks of good behaviour I've managed that. Now I just need to get to the bottom of the range, to give me some leeway for when the yo-yo starts to go back up again.
Unfortunately I see our time is up this week so we will continue this next week with some simple weight loss methods.
Sunday Indo Living