How to get weighed.

Location, location.

Not on the carpet, that’s for sure.  A thick pile carpet can add up to half a stone, more if recently vacuumed.  Don’t even contemplate shag pile and as for a rug on a carpet, no is all I’m going to say.  You might just get away with an over twenty year old wall-to-wall if it has the residual thickness of a dishcloth but, you know, one wrinkle under the foot of the scales and you’re out a couple of pounds.  You could confidently plough your way through a double family pack of chocolate digestives and the b.o.g.o.f. because of a carpet wrinkle.

Ideal conditions under your little plastic scale feet are concrete or wood.  Lino is bearable, providing it’s not cushioned.

The importance of location also pertains to the surrounding area.  Not the bathroom where any visitors will hop on and off, do their own adjustments and thoroughly confuse the machine.  Sharing scales is as bad as sharing mirrors.  Yes it is; have you ever looked good in a chain-store changing room mirror?  I rest my case.  No I don’t, I pick it up again.  So, no placement in through-traffic areas.  Obviously nowhere other things can get stacked on top of it.  That’s asking for trouble, that is.  If you have to move a laundry hamper, a couple of suitcases and a box of books to get at the scales underneath, they won’t be happy about it.  They could lose a stone at the sheer relief at getting the weight off, like your feet after a long day trailing round a shopping centre.  Then you could pile the junk back, eat ice cream all winter and find your swimsuit had shrunk three sizes next spring.

I find the ideal scale location to be inside a built-in wardrobe or cupboard, on the board floor, with the closing door.  Ah, privacy!  Just you and the scales.

When to weigh.

Timing is everything.  Last thing at night, even if slightly squiffy and carefree, is right out.  You large fool, you’ve been eating all day!  Step away from the scales, right away, there is nothing for you here now.  Some folk find that straight after exercise at the gym is the perfect weigh-in time.  No!  No! and again, no!  What do you do when you exercise?  Drink water.  Water is heavy, have you seen the muscles on the blokes who replace office water cooler  bottles?  So, not after drinking any fluid at all.  After a sauna is a possibility but not half as good as first thing, after a visit to the bathroom and before a drop of anything has passed your lips.  In short, get weighed empty.  Obvious when you think about it.

What to wear.

Helium-filled shreddies and a really short haircut.

Technique.

Have the scales oriented in the cupboard so that your non-dominant side can rest upon them.  In right-handed people, by dint of use, the entire right side will be slightly larger and therefore, heavier. Q.E.D. the left side must alight upon the machine.  Left-handers must reverse the action; the ambidextrous can choose or alternate.  If you develop your heart and stomach a lot, for example by encouraging your blood to circulate and eating, it’s worth remembering that they’re both located on the left and compensate accordingly.  If you think a lot whilst picking your teeth, you’ll have developed the opposite side of the brain to the dominant hand, so get weighed head on one side, heavy ear up.

Seasonal adjustment of the scales to account for fluctuations in the Dow-Jones, leaves on the line, forthcoming elections and governmental massaging of the unemployment statistics, is best done at the equinox, or for extensive fiddling, on a Sunday morning when you’ve got time.  Having zeroed the scales plus or minus big-meal-last-night compensation, two pounds for atmospheric conditions, half a stone down if it’s your birthday this year, two pounds up if you bust the zip on your jeans more recently than Friday and a pound either way for added interest, it’s time to mount.

Facing the machine, head down, lighting up, tentatively place the ball of the weighing foot on the machine, an inch and a half in from the side.  Lift the non-weighing foot parallel with the ear by the hand on that side, swing your weight in the opposite direction, simultaneously grasping the wardrobe rail with the free hand and lift.  Bring the hanging rail elbow to the horizontal, flex the bicep, breathe out, close your nostrils, stick your toe in your ear, hold the stomach out of the way with the freed hand and take a reading.  Relax, repeat the entire manoeuvre and take another reading.  Best of five usually does it, though if it’s not a busy morning and you’re simply not getting the weight you require, you may wish to dismount, clean your teeth, pluck your eyebrows, cut your fingernails, another quick trim of the hair and try again.

Having achieved a suitable weight, check it three times.

Double it, halve it, take away the number you first thought of and mentally adjust it to what it nearly will be, give or take six months of rigorous exercise and cabbage soup.

All that’s left is the triumphant dismount.  Toe out of the ear, triple Salkeld, double toe loop and a back flip to land on the bedroom carpet, knees slightly bent, head up, arms extended, fingers flicked.  Breathe in.

Simple when you know how.  Coming soon: knit your own full face balaclava and make your wrinkles vanish.