Now the reason for all this trotting about on the treadmill is not a deep and sudden urge to become fit and live a more healthy lifestyle (bwahahahaha!)..... no, no, no it's purely a Means To An End and that End is that I step on the scale and see a figure there that doesn't result in forehead clutching and silent sobbing.
So, it's been 6 weeks now. You might think that those numbers on the scale would be looking a tad better than they did before all the stomping began. You'd be wrong. No sirrreeee. I have GAINED weight. Put on a whole flipping kg. Can-you-believe-it!
I will be brutally honest here and admit that the exercise regime isn't exactly strenuous, to be perfectly frank, I wouldn't look out of place at a Senior Citizens pilates class. Please, cut me some slack, you are dealing with a food and drink loving, sedentary creature who has never moved a muscle intentionally in 44 years of existence. But, hang it all, I am wilfully and wantfully exercising, people! I am showing committment to movement! That's significant enough to warrant a choir of angels breaking out into a rap version of the Hallelujah Chorus! The least the stupid scale could do is shift downwards by a hundred grams or so.
However, when I was weeping and wailing at the injustice of it all this afternoon Paula told me that "Tomorrow will bring positive change". You can always rely on Paula to dispense Fortune Cookie wisdom at just the right moment. So I am clinging to that thought - tomorrow will bring positive change - let's just hope that the positive change involves some downwards movement on the scale!