Well, well, how are you?

Do you know the difference between your VO2 Max and your BMI index, or how your HDL and LDL levels will affect your temple (that would be your body, dear couch potatoes)?

Well if you think I’m talking in tongues, worry not, I have taken my medication this morning (honest!) but that’s exactly how I felt when I took a trip to the Adidas Wellness Centre in Stockport, which is just outside Manchester.

You may wonder why I was there. Well, the powers that be at hotpress Central decided that it would be a cracking idea to send this chocolate-eating, beer-swilling, cigarette-smoking little piggy on a mission to take the Ultimate Fitness Test. The adidas Wellness Centre was formed to combat the ravages of stress, poor diet and an unhealthy lifestyle, so I thought to myself, hey, I’ll fit right in there!

To be honest I was a tad worried about this whole fitness lark, the red-faced, glistening, sweaty look is just sooooo passé this season, and plus I didn’t even have a sock that looked vaguely sporty in my wardrobe. Eek!

No sweat. adidas came up trumps and supplied me with the latest in hi-tech sports clothing and footwear, which of course gave the impression that I was a Goddess of Fitness, a veritable Bionic Woman. The new limited edition A3 (pronounced A Cubed) running shoe was perfect for the torture… ahem, I mean the testing that was required, as it protected my foot from injury using its unique Energy Management System.

The centre was initially open only to adidas employees, but it has branched out, into advising external companies on fitness and health. Hence my arrival with a bunch of other Irish journos…

The first part of the four-hour long individual test, was a consultation with a lovely girl called Fiona. She discussed my diet, which involved me fessing up to my maniacal obsession with take-away food. She advised me on the whole Shebang covering diseases, family health, exercise and then – horror of horrors – I had to give blood, for a cholesterol test. Since I am not the bravest of chicks, I’m sure I turned around 40 shades of white, but it just involved a tiny little pin prick to the finger. Phew!

Fiona then tested my body composition – basically, my fat versus muscle ratio. This involved electrodes being placed on strategic places around my body, and then attached to a computer, which gave an instantaneous result. Surprisingly enough, my fat to muscle ratios were rather good (heh heh, more choccy please!).

The next stage was a lung capacity test. I was instructed to take a deep breath – ooh the dizziness! – and then expel the air like a hair dryer on full blast into a hand held machine. Considering I am the worst social smoker in the known universe, I was mighty relieved to discover my lungs were actually working.

I was then shown to a room, which looked like the NASA space command centre. Monitors and strange alien-esque pieces of equipment were dotted around the room. It was here that I met my consultant Kim and the world renowned Dr Dorian Dugmore, the Director of the adidas Wellness Centre. Between them, they were going to test my stress levels.

Hell, I was getting stressed even thinking about it! This was the part of the test that I was dreading the most, because it would surely involve extreme physical exertion and almost inevitable embarrassment. As I was shiftily eyeballing the industrial-looking treadmill in the corner, Kim reassured me that no one has died yet on it. Would I get to be the first casualty?

Dugmore, who looks more like a football coach than a pioneer in preventative treatment for heart disease, was sportily clad in a tracksuit and a scattering of heavy gold jewellery. As he looked me up and down, I thought I caught a slight hint of alarm register on his face. But I couldn’t be sure…

Before I even got near the ’mill, I had to be prepared. My heart, oxygen input, carbon dioxide output and blood pressure had to be monitored throughout. To achieve this, ten electrodes were placed around the left side of my chest. These were hooked up to a monitoring device, which would assess my heart rhythm from every angle.

I was then fitted with a very fetching mouthpiece, that resembled a diver’s breathing device and a plug was fitted over my nose to restrict nasal airflow. The Hannibal Lecter look – nice, eh! I think I’ll make this get-up a Saturday night regular. Finally a blood pressure armband was fitted, and I was ready – if not to rock then certainly to, eh, walk.

Kim and Dr. Dorian started me off at a nice walking pace, and I thought hey this ain’t so bad. But that was just what we medical people call the placebo effect. Before long, however, they were hitting me with the real thing – the experience was a bit like ‘Alphabet Aerobics’ by Blackalicous, ’cos it just kept on getting faster and faster and FASTER!

Now I’m not much of a running kinda girl, but bits of me were wobbling that I never even knew could wobble. My eyes glazed, I was dribbling away like a candy-deprived three-year-old (apparently it’s normal), my legs felt like they’d been hollowed out and filled with cement, I think I must have perspired a small ocean (ladies don’t sweat, we perspire).

My head was pounding, my legs were shaky, I couldn’t speak due to the amount of air I needed to suck into my lungs. I just had to stop!

When I finally stepped off the machine, after 30 minutes of solid heart-pounding exercise, the ground was moving, I was disorientated and badly needed to sit down, before I collapsed. Dr. Dorian explained to me that this was the cooling off period, when your heart has reached its maximum exertion level, going from an aerobic to anaerobic stage. They needed to monitor how my heart calmed down after such extreme pressure and returned to normal.

When I had collected my senses, I was ready for the bad news, the dark cloud of doom, the inevitable intimation of impending disaster! It was clear. I was on my way to an early grave.

How was my little ticker? Was I an unfit git? I had to be. I could feel it in my bones (and in my muscles and elsewhere too!)

Apparently not. Well, frankly I found it hard to believe, but… wayhey! it was good news all round. Apparently my heart is just fan-dabby-doozy, which is Carol-speak for totally excellent. Not that I’m bragging or anything, but apparently I have a top of the range air intake capacity for a person of my size (’cos I’m only a little thing), and even better, listen up boys, my endurance level is very impressive indeedy! Well, I tell you the relief I felt hearing all of this was indescribable.

Once the testing was over, I was able to treat myself to a lovely massage in a very clever machine called an Aquamassage. You don’t need to use oils or get your kit off (aaaaw) – you just slide under a rigid canopy, a waterproof sheet covers you, and you are pummelled by jets of water heated to 34 degrees. Ooooh, pure bliss! A ten-minute all over body massage, it was just what the doctor ordered.

The final part of the day, consisted of a consultation with Dr. Dorian and his team, I was provided with a personal folder which contained all my details and my test results. Dr. D. went through every single aspect of the test, and discussed measures that I needed to take to ensure I stay healthy.

Even though I entered into the whole experience with trepidation, I do have to say that it was thoroughly rewarding. It opened my eyes to how I had been taking my body for granted, I ain’t gonna be young forever, so it’s definitely and absolutely essential to get a full health and fitness check so you can prevent serious illness – as they say prevention is better than cure.

So all you desk jockeys and couch spuds, if you want to stay young and beautiful then ease off on the greasy spoons, take your motto from Ad-Rock of the Beasties and “Check-edy Check Yo’self Before You Wrig-edy Wrig-edy Wreck Yo’self!”