So, it’s the season premiere of The Biggest Loser. The trainers are traveling around the country, gathering hopefuls and having three potential Losers compete for two spots.
And holy crap. There are some really sad stories. Mamas who have lost their kids. People who were told they were nothing – by the people who were supposed to love them. So many people who have buried their pain in food.
Usually, I like the show because it’s a lesson in perseverance. But tonight? This episode just makes me sad for all the folks who want to be on the show but don’t make it. People who are desperate.
I’ve never been obese, but I went through a very definite chubby phase as a kid. And when I discovered that if I just didn’t eat? I got all skinny-like! It was great.
I was never truly anorexic, but we flirted.
And as an adult? The only diet that’s every worked for me is The Breakup Diet. Yep. Every time I get my heart broken, I drop about 15 pounds. When you’re 5’3″, that’s a lot. But that post-breakup shopping spree is soooo fun. It’s the gaining it back – and a bit more – that sort of sucks.
The problem with depending on The Breakup Diet is that I’m getting married. Which means that I shouldn’t have any more access to The Breakup Diet. Which is good. And bad. Because while I look good and stuff? I can tell I’ve got a bit more meat on my bones than I’d prefer. I can just tell, you know?
So, I broke down and joined Weight Watchers. Which should really just be called One More Thing to Play With on Your iPhone. Because the app is awesome.
Given my flirtation with The Big A, I’ve never owned a scale. But there’s one in the locker room at Corporate Behemoth. So, I weigh myself every Monday. Because that’s an awesome way to enhance any Monday morning, when I’m usually running late anyway.
I’ve lost three pounds in a month, which doesn’t feel like much. And since I didn’t lose any the first two weeks, I was all, “Oh, I am NOT feeling guilty over my beloved Dannon Coffee-Flavored Yogurt to not lose weight, bitches!” But today, I realized that I’ve lost, like, 2% of my total body weight. Which, on The Biggest Loser, would be pretty good.
For a week. It would be good for a week instead of four. But considering that I’m not working out eight hours a day? And there’s very little chance that Jillian Michaels will make me cry on national television? It’s cool.