We started a Biggest Loser contest at work on Monday. This isn't the kind of thing where you pick one unfortunate person and ridicule them about their clothes, complexion, hairstyle, running shoes, breath, parents, grandparents, second cousins and the fact that even though they're a boy they still dream of one day dancing the lead in Swan Lake. Incidentally, I "won" this contest in high school.
This Biggest Loser contest is the kind where the person who loses the highest percentage of weight wins. It's a $50.00 entry fee plus an extra $25.00 if you gain weight in the three months. Second place gets their money back and first place takes the rest so with 9 people in the contest the winner will receive $400.00; more if any of us blubberpots* gains weight and has to fork over an extra $25.00.
The initial weigh-in was Monday and I just happened to wear my chain mail armour suit and lucky concrete hat. Today, I wore my linen shorts and tank top and have lost 64 pounds already.
Knowing that we would be doing the weigh-in on Monday I treated Sunday as my last day of eating delicious food. I was like a convict on death row. Eggs Benedict and sausage for breakfast, KFC and poutine for dinner, ice cream and chocolate throughout the day. Since then however I have been slavishly dieting and exercising and I think I've hit upon the key reason I'm fat – I don't like to diet or exercise, it's really really hard. If I win this money I'm spending it on bacon, sugar cookies and foot massages. Why foot massages? Because I read somewhere (probably on a masochist's website) that health experts (a.k.a assholes) recommend walking 10,000 steps a day to promote good cardiovascular health. Well I've been doing this for a couple of weeks now and I don't know about my heart my feet look like a couple of apple fritters that were spray painted pink and then stepped on by a rhino. That's okay you say, as long as you're eating delicious healthy food. Last night for dinner I had an unsalted peanut and a flavoured ice cube. It's going to be three long months.
*While I said "us" blubberpots I'm really only referring to myself as a blubberpot. Most of the people in this contest are in peak physical condition and also have wonderful personalities. (C'mon, these are my co-workers, if I insult them too much they won't let me join the company country line dancing association.)
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