Arrgghhh the torture of condescending continues at Fat Club, yet I cannot argue with the results.
I normally dress down in my lightest, flightiest scraps of muslin that weigh lighter than a feather for weigh-in day. Always remember to remove watch. Take off all rings and jewellery (they must add up to about a 1lb I reckon) and take a final purging toilet trip. Then you are ready for weigh-in.
Last week I had to be weighed with all my glam stuff on as i was ready for my 'big' night out after being redunded; I reckon the extra pound of caked-on make up didn't help my results. That, plus my thick elephant skin elastic pants which must weigh in at 2lbs alone.
It's sad and sweaty at Fat Club. It smells sad and fat and sweaty as soon as you go in to the Room. My spirit dips. I overhear the talk of Fatties denying themselves their small pleasures as I queue for the ritual of register and weighing.
Fat Club can be a little depressing actually, precisely because everyone is FAT. i mean, i don't want to be a member of a club for 5 years and still be that fat. And if it IS so successful, why is everyone still so fat??? These things occur to me as I queue and wait and weight and watch everyone wearing the same M&S 'smock' tops thinking they are hiding their gunt and beachball ass under the tent-like folds. Let me tell you, it ain't workin.
To paraphrase a famous quote "I don't want to be in a Fat Club that would have me as a member."
I too was once an official member of a Fat Fighters Club - a well meaning friend managed to talk me into it with beguiling, silver-tongued promises of food optimising/never ever feeling hungry/3lbs loss every week - you know the kind of stuff. AND you could have a glass of wine a night. It all sounded fantastically do-able, so I went along, imaging the weight just dropping of me and scampering away the minute I stepped through the door. Needless to say it didn't.
ReplyDeleteWhy are these things so depressing? Like Bags, I too joined the long snakey queue of disillusionment and dissolving self-esteem on route to the the scales of doom. I too listened patiently to the never-ending discussions on 100 ways to dry-fry mince/the benefits of topping your shepherd's pie with cauliflower/why custard creams are the devil's food. I heartily applauded the resolute soul who managed to lose the most weight and won the weekly bowl of sad looking fruit - we each had to contribute one item and honestly, some looked as if it had been fished out of Sainsbury's skip. And then, having sat through 45 minutes of incessent talk about food - I headed straight to the nearest restaurant for steak and chips and a bottle of merlot.
All of that obsessing made me really, really hungry.
They call it 'Body Magic' but I think sometimes it can do more bad magic than good to your resolve.
ReplyDeleteI definitely think it depends on how inspiring your leader is; mine just leaves me wanting to leave the room. And all those 'before' and 'after' shots they hold up. Call me picky but I often can't tell the difference.