The Weigh-In...dom dom dom

So the time came where I decided to break a sweat from activities other than walking to work (4 blocks), eating, and dancing drunkenly on weekends....it was time to join a gym! Feel free to shriek in horror at the thought, I did.  Thankfully the local YMCA was only two blocks from my apartment, why burn extra calories trying to get to the gym?

On that fateful day, from here forward to be known as Doomsday, I walked, yes walked, to my local Y and began my journey toward physical fitness.  A very patient Y employee walked me through the equipment and set me up with a starter fitness program. For an hour I jerked around weights, stared at the stair master (I won that competition) and gave a wide berth to the modern torture devices called treadmills and ellipticals. I left with a new resolve that I could do this....then I woke up the next day.

Kidding! I dragged my sorry ass back to the Y and completed the weight training circuit designed for me, though I was astonished they didn't have weights less than 2 pounds! (I had an unrealistic fear of adding to my current bulk with muscle bulk.) Then it was time to step on the treadmill. I'm proud to say I kicked that treadmill's ass...for three entire minutes I beat that machine into submission, then I almost passed out.

Once I regained my faculties I headed to the change room, and there waiting for me under a beacon of light, was a device I was familiar with but had avoided for years, THE SCALE! To get on the scale or to not get on the scale, that was the question.  Every race has a start line, that hulking piece of metal was my start line. So I climbed on, having not weighed myself since The New Kids on the Block were all the rage, I had no idea what I was about to see. So I fiddled with the sliding weights, damn the lever wouldn't move, move it over another slot, nothing, move it another, repeat, repeat, repeat..my heart is palpitating just reliving this...finally the damned lever found a nice little space floating on the scale. So I got out my abacus and calculator and tried to read my weight. 208! Well that had to be a mistake, there was no way at a mere 5'1" tall I weighed 208 pounds!

So off to Canadian Tire I went to buy a reliable scale. After much debate over which model to buy, really who wants to know their body fat percentage every morning, I bought the basic digital model and decided to wait until the following morning when I was at my thinnest to weigh in again.  Doomsday II I awoke, tripped over the damn scale on the bathroom floor and the horrors of the previous day washed over me like a tidal wave. I would prove that LIAR of a scale at the Y wrong!  So after shedding my pajamas which I assumed weighed at least 10 pounds I climbed on...208!!!

 Insert image of tearful head hanging.