Summer is coming, and I’m not ready. I thought I was in shape but according to a fitness assessment at the gym, that shape is a Stop-sign – stationary, large and bright red.
I knew I should have got fitter before I went to the gym to get checked out. It’s like cleaning before the cleaners come; it doesn’t make sense but it’s a bit less embarrassing.
So today I plan to start stage fourteen of the get fit for Summer plan.
Stage one is persuading yourself it’s all hormonal and seasonal fat.
Christmas dinner, Easter eggs, cold weather, water-retention, the running of the tides - all these are better explanations for why your fattest Fat Pants are gaping at the seams.
Not that you ate too much and stayed on the sofa for the last three months.
Or that you have been stuffing your face with chocolate and counting walks to the Thai place across the road as exercise, oh no. It’s not your fault; it’s winter weight!
The first bit of Stage two is asking your partner or friend if you have put on a little weight.
The second bit is accusing them of being shallow and heartless when they say that you have put on a little, but doesn’t everyone over winter and maybe you should get fit together?
Stage three involves locking yourself in the bathroom while crying and eating more chocolate. And then storming out to throw cleaning implements at your partner, shouting if they like skinny things so much they can go out with the mop.
Here’s also where you hurl allegations that they would rather be seeing skinnier people. Such as their ex, their co-workers, your co-workers, their friends, your ex, their family, their mother, random strangers on the street, the stoned guy who staffs the graveyard shift at the 7-11 and anyone who is currently less porky than you.
Stage four involves apologising. A lot. Also picking up the things you threw.
Stage five involves drowning the pain in alcohol. A lot.
Stage six is hungover.
Stage seven involves actually doing something about things and attempting to go to the gym occasionally, while still eating all that chocolate.
Stage eight is being too busy to do the gym but deciding that switching to low fat milk cancels out the chocolate.
Stage nine is giving up on the gym as it’s not working.
Stage ten is realising that you might need to do more than one gym session a week.
Stages eleven through to thirteen repeat stages two to four. This time you pretend the throwing stuff at your partner and cleaning it up counts as a workout.
And stage fourteen involves biting the bullet and actually genuinely trying to get into a healthier routine. Wish me luck. Or send chocolate.
Sadhbh Warren is an MX reader who is off to the gym any day now.