Weight-Loss Blog Twenty Seven
Can a Beard Help a Leeds Lad Slim Down? by Nigel McDermid
When I first started on the Man Up Lose Weight programme at Leeds Hypnotherapy Clinic, one of the things I learnt was that it is good to reward yourself now and then.
Rewards are an incentive.
And one of the first rewards I promised myself was a smaller pair of trousers. In fact, I went out and bought a pair, acknowledging they could only be regarded as a reward once I could actually fit into them. They would be my prize for slimming down.
This was smart thinking.
Sadly, I’m unsure whether my latest wheeze is quite that smart.
In fact, I know it isn’t.
About two weeks ago, I hadn’t bothered with the razor for a couple of mornings and for reasons that I no longer recall, I inspected my stubble and rubbing a hand on my (sort of) hirsute chin, challenged myself – I decided I wouldn’t shave again until I had dropped another 7 pounds.
There was very little logic to any of this.
I wasn’t at the time regarding my decision as being proposing an reward; I just fancied growing a beard as well as shedding half a stone on the way to my ideal weight. So why not combine the two challenges? I reasoned.
My main mistake was to share the news with other people because it turns out that nearly everyone hates my beard – so much so that they threaten to implode if I so much as go within five feet of a fridge, fearing that the slightest morsel passing my lips will prolong the moment when I become once again clean-shaven.
I find this a bit irritating.
Not, though, as irritating as my beard.
The sensible thing to do, I realise, would be to abandon the challenge and simply lather up and regain that glabrous glamour for which I like to think I’m famed.
But we McDermids are made of sterner stuff than this. A challenge is a challenge and I have determined that no blade may touch my skin until the weighing scales allow it.
Be Thin or Look Like a ZZ Top!
This puts me at risk of becoming a ZZ Top lookalike unless I show real resolve to lose those pounds. Or worse still I could pass as a bearded extra from that film The Revenant that I keep banging on about.
“You could be one of those trappers who gets scalped by the locals,” says a pal.
Now, that is just the kind of comment that makes me despair – I’d actually thought that having a beard would balance up my face – sort of compensate for being a bit bald up top. Apparently, though, the facial hair just makes me look like my head’s on upside down.
This is all a far cry from what I imagine. I saw myself as some dashing cavalry officer, who armed only with tight breeches and outrageously waxed whiskers captures a brace of Russian cannon single-handedly. Instead, strangers look tempted to hand me loose change outside the supermarket. Most avoid eye-contact.
Perhaps I could say I’m a hipster?
But I’m informed this is out of the question.
And so I guess that having a shave actually is going to turn out to be a reward, after all.
It won’t be just me who’s finally relieved; there’s one person I know who is absolutely terrified by beards. Scared stiff, she is. Apparently it’s a condition called pogonophobia – the fear of beards. Luckily, I know someone who can deal with this sort of thing and I point her immediately in the direction of Leeds Hypnotherapy Clinic.