Leh - who - zer

'The Biggest Loser' returns to our screens on Sunday night.

I am giddy with excitement!!

No, I'm not going to be on there. No, I don't know anyone on there.

(unless you count my old mates Shannon, Michelle & The Commando)

I don't have any tangible reason to be grinning at the teasing trailers they've been showing for weeks.

I just freaking love the show.

Love the pathetic whinging, the drama, the fights, the backstabbing, the strategies...

But mostly I love the transformations.

Seeing somebody get 'switched on' to exercise and an active lifestyle does make me grin.

There's a personal trainer inside of me just itching to get out!

And the numbers -  oooh I looove the numbers.

Gasping at those massive first numbers, watching those numbers fall - oh the shock and disappointment on days when they don't. Dah - nah!!

Why don't they fix those silly scales that bounce through ten unrealistic numbers before finally settling on the real one? And then go to an ad break just as it does?

Ha ha - that one drives hubby mad!!

If I get all 'psychy' - maybe this love of such a rubbish reality tv programme is really driven by my own dysfunctional relationship with the scales.

Maybe there's an unhealthy fascination with more than just quick calculations on the couch, surprise eliminations and people's weight loss journeys - but hey, that's okay.

So, come 6.30pm Sunday night the phones will be turned off, the doorbell unplugged, Magoo's "watch a Woogles" pleas ignored, Milos made and I'll be glued to the box.

I know how sad this is - but I don't care!
:-)