One of my guiltiest pleasures (the totality of which consists of 95% of my television) is The Biggest Loser. I don’t get to watch it all the time, but whenever I am alone (or w/ my mom or Sara) I get to indulge in its overwhelming fatness. These particular people are far and beyond clinically obese. Not only do I cry multiple times per episode due to the crying/sad life stories and whatnot, but I also look forward to the complete and utter shock of the ‘finale’ episode. The last season that I saw, this man actually lost 237 pounds! That’s like a pretty big full-grown adult man– or two backstreet boys! Usually I get to see the first 2 or 3 episodes and the best is when I’m too busy for the rest of the season until the very end, and then WHAM! They’re unrecognizable. It’s like a balloon that someone popped so all the helium squeaks out of it.
I do feel badly for this people though, because the show insists on making them look and feel like complete crap. They make them send in videos of themselves eating pounds of greasy food, zoom in, and then crank that sucker to slow-mo, making every drip of grease glisten off their chins for the thousands of watching audience members around the country to cringe and become slightly nauseous at their somewhat overkill meal.
But it doesn’t just stop there. They also force the contestants to step on the scale shirtless for the first, let’s say, hundred pounds they lose! Ya, right! If I ever happened to be over 300 pounds, I’d rather be dead than be on national television with my shirt off. Scratch that, I wouldn’t do that at ANY weight. Like this woman, for example, they photograph her without a shirt, but 150 pounds later, they force her to now cover up her toned tummy with a Biggest Loser tank top. Well, stick a fork in her, she’s done! Finally ready to cover herself up! haha.And look at that tan…I’m gonna say they did a hell of a lot more to her than just her weight loss. But I like this show, I really do. While I watch the blood, sweat, and tears of the participants, I get to sprawl on my couch, watch my big silvery spoon dive into my pile of Rocky Road, and marvel at Jillian’s manliness. She seriously gets manlier every
single season, and it is amazing…
I mean, I have seen many more men with smaller biceps than this lovely lady. She can frighten motivate you by screaming an inch from your face and if you’re not careful, she can kick your ass in two second flat. I’d definitely stay on her good side. And if that’s what it means to be in
shape and look fit, well then… I’m not so sure it’s on my agenda anymore. I’d rather look like the 300 lb. contestants who strangely remind me of babies. Seriously, they get so tan and wrinkly when they’re skinny, they look like 20 years older!
But this show had me thinking recently. Three and a half years ago, I gave myself a pass for weight gain. I knew college was gonna be full of parties, pre-games, beer bongs, and late-night pizza, but it came upon me that my “pass” had gone tooo far, and I needed to start getting healthy and hopefully fitting into all my clothes. What a concept!! I mean, it just makes sense. Plus, I’m gonna be in the real world soon, and I need to make some moves. So I thought Christmas break would be a great time to start eating healthier and maybe getting in a little movement exercise. Wellll, it turned out to be a huge eye opener. NOTHING was as easy as I had expected. I thought, “Sure, I’ll just eat some salads and run around the block a few times.” Unfortunately, I had severely underestimated the copious amount of food that I unthinkingly devour at school. I felt like this writer in Self magazine who started on Weight Watchers. Her diary consisted of this paragraph that exactly explains how I currently feel:
“I am absolutely outraged! One cup? Um, sorry. That is most definitely not a serving of cereal. Here’s my recommended serving: Take large ceramic bowl. Fill it to the brim with cereal so the addition of milk tumbles a few frosted shredded wheat squares onto the counter. (Eat those). Spoon into mouth while staring out the window unseeingly until first bowl has been consumed and a puddle of milk remains. Fill milk puddle with more cereal, eat and repeat until there is no remaining milk. That, my friends, is a serving of cereal.”
As I read this, I thought to myself, ‘that’s definitely exactly how I eat my morning cereal’…. scary. I smell a reevaluation coming my way. Whoa nelly!