Apparently, the Fat Man Stayed After Christmas

So, the other day, I stood on the scale. It said "Get Off".

That's an old joke, but it's pretty much actually what happened. For the first time in history, the scale couldn't measure my weight. The worst bit? It measures up to 150kg (330lb).

So not only was I at a new record weight, I wasn't even sure what that weight was.

I tried hard to find out what my weight was. I couldn't go down to the pharmacy at 5 in the morning and strip to my jocks to get my morning weight. The ladies there probably wouldn't appreciate it anyway. At least not in the shape I'm in.

I had to come up with a novel way of working out my weight. I have been using a network of medical and industrial scales during the day until my weight came down far enough that I could measure it with my set at home. Then, I compared it.

The results say I was somewhere between 153.2 and 155.6kg (337.6 - 343lb).

Most people will never know how demoralising it is to stand on a scale and see that sort of error. And try explaining to your friends the reason you're standing on an industrial scale every day and occasionally bringing your bathroom scale to work with you.

"Well, thing is, I'm too damn fat to measure my weight at home, so I have to do science to work out what my weight really is."

Well, I'm down to a svelte 146.7kg (323lb) today, 13 days after deciding enough is enough.

I figure I'll use this blog to track my journey back to fight fitness and tell funny and tragic stories about how someone who used to be in pretty good shape comes to this point.

Stay tuned. There is even a risk you might learn something or pick up some resources along the way.