Such a Pretty Contest

I'm too sick to be creative today (Pan Asian Death Flu) (or possibly just a bad cold) so I'm going right to the point.

I'm giving away two autographed advanced copies of the new book, one to Jennsylvania.com readers and one to my MySpace friends.  To be eligible to win, tell me your best (or worst) weight loss/diet tale.  Your essay can be funny, sad, poignant, motivational - really, whatever you want to write.  I don't care if a version of the story already appeared on your blog; as long as it's your original work, it's eligible. 

Rules:

1)  Use 500 words or less.  (Sorry, I don't actually have the time to read your whole manuscript.)

2)  Post your story in the comments section of Jennsylvania.com or my MySpace blog.  You may only enter in one place or the other.

3)  If you have a problem getting your comments to post (my SPAM filter tends to operate autonomously) then send me your story in the body of an email, NOT an attachment.  Emails with attachments will be deleted without being opened, but not before being mocked.

4)  You have until 1:00 PM CST on Friday to enter.  Winners will be determined by me and announced on Monday.

5)  My friend Jolene Siana is not eligible to enter because I already have a book for her and she just has to send me her most recent address because I didn't copy it off the envelope because I'm lazy sick.

6)  If you don't have a best (or worst) weight loss/diet story because you've never struggled with your weight, then your fortunate genetics and willpower are already prize enough.

7)  Void where prohibited by law, rules subject to change upon my whim, no deposit, no return, etc.

Ready, set... go! 

Comments

[Wendylicious]

I've struggled with my weight my whole life. I have the greatest parents ever, except for this lovely genetic propensity for obesity that they gave me.

My husband left for his fourth tour to Iraq last August and I set my goal at hitting 150 pounds before he came back.

This upcoming Saturday, he is going to step off of that bus and set see me for the first time in 7 months and I look steaming sexy hot. He is not going to believe his eyes.

Maybe I won't win your book with this story (I hope I do, maybe I should play the Marine Corps anthem in the background and pull the patriotic card?) but I feel so good and I am so proud of what I have done.

[Skywalkerchick]

I'd like to say that I'm an average size girl in the slightly bigger than Marilyn Monroe sense (and if she can look sexy in a size 12 then I can too dammit!!). I was always cool with this, and my fiance was too...no matter how much Baywatch turned his head. And then, I decided to get married. Suddenly it seemed important to actually be within my BMI. So I joined Weight Watchers for a few months, and then realized that sitting in a room full of chicks talking about what the were and were not eating was not getting me to my goal. So I quit and joined the Y (3 blocks from my house so no excuses for me) and I am now paying less for a pool and a treadmill than I was sitting on my ass. God bless capitalism...and me being poor (the Y has a sliding fee scale). I have lost 10lbs so far....infinity and beyond to go.

[Laura O.]

A few years back when I was a freshman in college I decided I should change my diet and lose the freshman 15 I brought to college with me to college (In high school if my lunch wasn't pizza and french fries, it was a soda and candy bar followed by ice cream or more candy for dessert.) I, like the rest of America, became intrigued by the promises of the South Beach diet, which seemed like a completely sensible diet after the Atkins craze turned everyone into raging meat heads.

I joined a South Beach internet support group that consisted of midwest grandma's and myself and began reading the book and following the diet. Soon enough I was ravenous for carbohydrates and decided to get some Ezekiel bread, which sounded kind of exotic and maybe yummy. So my roommate and I headed to local food coop where I was disappointed after not finding the bread among the usual grainy healthy breads. To my surprise I did locate it in the refrigerated section however which made sense since Ezekiel bread was a "sprouted" grain bread.

The loaf was sort of brown, sticky and heavy as a brick in its wrapper which wasn't very appealing but I decided to give it try despite it's freakish appearance. When we got back to my dorm room my roommate and I cut up a slice, popped it in, and uh, I think the taste could best be described as "wet cardboard." My roommate's verdict was that it was pretty much not worth swallowing but I wasn't ready to give up. Later I pulled out my tub of South Beach friendly cream cheese and proceeded to smear half of it onto a slice of the Ezekiel bread.

"You know, this thisn't thso bad," I told my roommate, as I tried to swallow gobs of cream cheese and bread.
"Uh huh. OK, Laura," she said.
"No, really. Its pretty good."
"Sure, when there's more cheese than bread," she said.

Then I realized the combination could be improved by subtracting the bread and just eating strait up cream cheese. I gave up the South Beach diet pretty soon after that.

[Manic Mommy]

Drinking and Dieting

I’ve been a “yo-yoer” all my life and after my third kid I decided to hit Weight Watchers. I was into my 64th week “on program” and was two pounds from making my goal weight, having lost nearly 60 pounds.

For the first time since having three kids in as many years, I was finally feeling like a MILF and my husband and I were attending a function for one of his big clients.

In my post-partum weight-loss delirium, I actually thought I had become “thong-worthy,” and I made the very “unlike me” decision to don some dental floss, going with the “didn’t want panty lines excuse.”

But heck, I was two pounds from my goal weight, I was going for it!

We picked up my husband’s employee and his wife and headed for the Lah-dee-dah function where Weight Watcher points did not exist. I drank Chardonnay like it was water and I had just won a challenge on Survivor, the prize being a case of Evian. I ate mini filet mignon sandwiches like I had been an enslaved soldier deprived of food. I gorged myself on phyllo-wrapped pockets of spinach and goat cheese, platters of deli meats, exotic olives, and mini spicy pork tacos. Desserts were decadent mini mousses, bite-sized decorated cupcakes, petit fours. While I may not remember much else, you can bet I remembered the food I inhaled and the wine I drank. Oh, so much wine I drank.

I remember this because this is what happens when you are drinking and dieting: It all came back out again. On the way home, in the front seat of my husband’s car, while his employee and the employee’s wife looked on in absolute shock, the boss’s wife spewed forth vomit and they watched, trapped, from the back seat.

At home, things got worse. My husband went to work on “CSIing” the car to remove the DNA and vomit, and he enlisted my father, who was visiting, to help get me to bed. I told my dad I could handle things and shoved him aside, making my way up to my room. I tore off my clothes, made it to my bathroom, vomited for hours, and then blessedly, somehow, managed to find my bed to pass out.

How is this a weight loss story? Well, there is one positive from this whole mess of a disastrous evening. At my Weight Watchers meeting later that week, I was awarded with the words I had waited for 64 weeks to hear: “Congratulations! You’ve reached your goal weight!”

That was fantastic news, but soon diminished by the words my father spoke to me later. He had shared with me that the evening of the fiasco he had cleaned vomit from my boots and my purse and I thanked him for being so kind and understanding. And then, he spoke the words a 34-year-old mother of three never wants to hear her daddy say to her:

“Since when do you wear a thong?”

stephanieelliot@comcast.net
www.manicmommy.blogspot.com

[Jen]

Age 32. Children 1. Pounds left to lose 18. Pounds lost to date 29. (So I was fat before I was knocked up) Having kicked the wine habit during pregnancy – for obvious reasons – people are really judgemental to the fat pregnant girl carrying a case of wine to the car (I swear it was for my husband) this probably kick-started the weight loss after the baby was born, not to mention expelling 8lbs of baby from you know where.

My problem, you say, as on paper my battle doesn’t look too horrific? Due to moderately healthy eating and a stupid exercise regime (two personal trainers later because the 1st one was male and only had 2 functioning brain cells from now on to be referred to as the “oxygen thief” – did he not think I would need the use of my arms, or legs for that matter, after our first session……. I digress) I now have dropped a few dress sizes but still have the wobbly spare tire thing happening around my middle. Fashionwise – I am a 32 year old teacher who appears to have adopted a Grade 8 boy’s fashion sense with the baggy jeans/slacks ass hanging down to my knees. Waist fits – nothing else does. If I go down a size everything else fits, but I have a massive muffin top disgusting roll of flesh around the waist.

Solution – keep working out, reduced wine intake (I'm a realist) and limit opportunities in public where I can’t get away with track pants – which means it will be at least 3-4 months before I can get fabulously dressed and head off to Borders to buy your new book. Could you pay it forward and save the city from my fashion assault by deeming me a winner and sending me a copy of Such a Pretty Fat????????????
Off to the gym, again. Jen

[Felicia]

A few weeks ago, I was late for work and rushing to get dressed. In a flurry, I threw on some jeans and dashed downstairs. As I ran, I felt my pants fall from a work-appropriate waist-level to the muffin-top-exposing danger zone. Hurray! Feel skinny! Gleefully, I thought, “My pants are too big! I’m finally losing weight!”

Because of my hatred for the recent trend of women exposing copious amounts of blubbery meat in the waistal area, I turned back upstairs in search of a belt to secure my pants and my modesty. I grabbed my favorite belt off its hanger, and proceeded to loop it through my pants. However, when I tried to cinch it shut, I couldn’t get the buckle and my usual hole to meet. I pulled tighter. No deal. I sucked in my breath and pulled tighter still. Suddenly, with a metal “ping!” and a burst of stomach fat, the belt exploded from my hands into two pieces, with the buckle flying through the air and denting the sheet rock near my head. Suck! Feel fat.

Shrugging off my feelings of porky-ness, and running later than ever, I grabbed the next closest belt off the rack and put it on. It fit! I cinched the buckle in a hole that had a crease in the leather, leading me to believe that this was my normal fit. Hurray! Feel skinny! Weird exploding belt must have had a latent manufacturing defect!

It wasn’t until I got to the office and stopped in the restroom that I realized the belt didn’t look familiar. Turns out it was one of my boyfriend’s old belts, meaning I had now gained enough weight that we had the SAME WAIST SIZE. Meaning I can now share clothes with a man 5 inches taller and 60 pounds heavier than me. Suck! Feel fat. So very, very fat.

[Zoe]

While standing before a skeleton in the bio room: "okay, nothing but xlax and water until prom."

[Grammy]

Having fought the good fight, so to speak, of the weight loss wars for, hmm, about 40 years now; I've come to some pretty cynical conclusions about the tight asses (literally and figuratively) who make up the big THEY. You know THEM - they spout off about how all of us who are over weight are sofa spuds or too stupid to know how to add/subtract calories in vs. calories out. They would welcome us to their glorified altars to the gods and goddesses of fitness, but, according to THEM, we refuse to bestir ourselves to join a gym or fitness club. THEY forget to mention that they would prefer us to lose our weight before entering those hallowed halls, as they don't want their retinas burned by the sight of a size 20 middle aged butt in spandex as it walks on the treadmill or climbs up endless flights of stairs on a gauntlet. So, because THEY must be right and we're in the wrong (if we weren't wrong, we wouldn't be cursed with the extra weight, now would we?), we hide ourselves away, wearing shapeless, worn out sweat suits, walking in areas where no one has to look at us, because someday, we will be thinner and worthy of mingling our sweat with theirs on the rowing machine. My favorites of all of THEM are the health care professionals. My doctor at my annual check up: "You need to lose some weight, for your health." Me: "Okay, doc, I walk marathons and I train all the time. You haven't seen me in your office since last year, because I'm never sick, but if you say I need to lose weight for my health, what do I need to do to lose weight but still have enough energy to walk 35-40 miles a week?" Doc: "Well, if you were really walking that much a week, the weight would be falling off of you, so therefore, you must be lying about how much you exercise." (Okay, I admit, that last little bit isn't ever said out loud, it's just implied by the LOOK he gives me.) Then, to add insult to injury, he asks, “So, how many C-sections have you had?” (as he’s tinkering around doing whatever it is they do with those cold, clammy instruments and that icky jelly substance). “Why, none. I had 2 children, both vaginal births.” “Hmm,” he sounds perplexed, “Well, you’ve got great muscle tone.” HELLO, do you not LISTEN? I exercise A LOT!!!! So far, a need to stay out of any state run facility has kept my doctor hale and hearty, but one of these days, this little round woman may be pushed too far….

[Kendall]

I wonder how much weight I need to put on to qualify for gastric bypass or lapband surgery...

I wonder if it would be so terrible just to get my mouth wired shut for a period of time (I suspect that this would not only benefit me, but those that have to listen to me on a daily basis)...

I wonder why I just started working out yesterday to lose the fat off of my bat wing arms to look semi-decent in a spaghetti strap bridesmaid dress that I have to wear in June, when I knew about this wedding in 2005...

I wonder why my nickname is Yo-yo and I do not play with the toy...

I wonder if that ice cream is still in the freezer...

[Erin]

I would like to speak to those of you who have trailed toilet paper from the heel of your Manolo(well we wish, more likely the BOGO at The Shoe Carnival); those who have gone out in public forgetting to comb the sausage roll curl out of your bangs. Those of you, and you know who you are, who on a dance floor gleefully went to embrace the girl wearing your identical pants only to realize it was a mirror; and share what we sisters can call a unifying uber-embarrassing moment. I joined the society of devastation at the beginning of this summer past.Our neighborhood has a community pool. A place where friends and neighbors can gather wearing less than you would in any other socially-acceptable setting while pretending not to stare, compare, and take stock of what the president of the PTA must've paid for those pups she's stuffed into her hot pink two-piece.As the mother of a tween(must be said with the same disdainful dialect as if Buffy found a fly in her fois gras) and a toddler; going to the pool is less like lounging and more like bending, chasing, and running interference as the only safeguard between my fearless child and the nether region heretofore known as the deep end. As such while my pool attire should be less like swimwear and more like active wear, one wouldn't want to draw attention to oneself by standing out amongst the spandex set. I resigned myself to a hip-to-shoulder, full coverage, ruby-red Land's End number(more Bea Arthur than Baywatch).One particularly sweltering summer day Hubby joined me and the kids at said pool. It was packed. Men, women, kids, teenagers trying to appear parent less, lying in various states of observation. Hubby was particularly attentive, remaining close behind my every step as if to say to all the unattached(chest out, hands on hips, oddly reminiscent of the Geico caveman) "This is MY woman, avert your longing glances." Feeling dainty and girlish with a sense of esteem not experienced since Molly Ringwald was the new IT girl, I was Susie-chats-alot. Waving to this one, gesturing to that. As we all became sufficiently sated with the serene blue water, hubby suggests we call it a day. I resist, he insists, off we go with a sweeping wave to the minions.As we settle into the quiet of our coach Hubby leans in close for what I assume is a lazy afternoon-capping smacker. Up he looks with those baby blues and says, "Honey, it's your butt. You can see your entire butt through the bottom of your suit." I'm certain that if I remain motionless I will be launched into a parallel universe where butt-showing is not only commonplace, but encouraged. Though the ride home was short, the silence was deafening.Back at the ranch I dared to go where no over-thirty worth her weight in Godiva dares to tread. The rear view of a full length mirror. Now ladies, if you have not attempted this ill-conceived feat in the last decade simply do NOT. The trauma centers are not equipped to handle the throngs that will descend if we try this life-altering gesture in unison. There it was, my bigger than I remember backside not even remotely disguised in my used-to-fit me suit of humiliation.With much trepadation Hubby pushes open the door, knowing full well what is said in the next two minutes will determine the way in which we will forever relate says, "We can sell the house if you want."

[Attygirl]

I've often asked myself what are the true joyful moments of my life. Wedding day - of course. The day I graduated from law school and passed the bar exam - sure. But, honestly... it was when I ate 800 calories a day and got down to 125 lbs (yes, I was a HUGE fan of phen/fen) and stood in a dressing room, tried on a to-die-for chocolate brown size 6 Donna Karan suit - - and IT FIT! Of course, it was also the suit that got me hit on by a criminal in an orange jumpsuit in court. But, hey, it was nice to be noticed for having skinny legs once in my life.

Now onto family - because weight is so often tied to genetics. Damn metabolism!! My mother, who herself has always battled a weight problem (and has never done anything about it), asks at least once a week about mine. Hellooo? Pot? You're black! She's even suggested that I try marching in place while watching TV at night. Hmm. Let's see. I've gone to nutritionists, trainers, Weight Watchers, voodoo weight loss doctors, weight loss centers, tried phen/fen, tried fake phen/fen, the gym, Jazzercise, power walking, aerobics, step aerobics, weight training, and read every weight loss book known to man and woman -- I know a lot about how to lose weight... don't think marching in place is going to do it.

Now, I'm in my mid-30s, I’ve had a weight problem as far back as I can remember, and I want to simply say that Weight Watchers is not for everyone. It may work for some people, but it is not the magic answer for some people. It's AA for fat people, and it doesn't work for me. My doctor just asked me last week - apparently fat people can't get pregnant so she told me to lose weight (duh, like I didn't know that I should for all sorts of other health reasons). Anyway, she asked if I tried Weight Watchers. I thought I was going to scream. I told her in my 30+ years of battling weight, the only thing that ever worked was eating 800 calories a day and walking 5 miles a day... her mouth dropped open and she was speechless. She gathered herself together enough to tell me that wasn’t “healthy.” Well, yes, I know that, duh, but it worked!

I won’t be trying Weight Watchers (for the 5th time), but I’m going to try to (again) be conscious about what I eat and start exercising (again).

I know I’m an emotional eater so I've decided to put down the Ding Dongs - god, those are glorious. Not as good as when they were wrapped in the foil back in the day, but still glorious. I digress... anyway, I've decided to consciously try to lose weight again.. exercise and count calories and watch the carbs. But as God as my witness, you will not see me at Weight Watchers. :)

Thanks for letting me vent about an issue so near and dear to, well, everything about me. Can’t wait to read your new book!

[Lindsay Selders]

I confess: I used to be skinny. Not just thin – skinny. When I was 12, my mother told me that my metabolism would catch up with me as soon as I turned 13. It didn’t. She said it would catch up with me when I turned 16. It didn’t. My freshman year of college I actually lost 15 pounds. Through gritted teeth my Mom said (threatened?) it would catch up with me when I turned 21. Soooo, I gained 40 pounds in 3 months after my 21st birthday. I went from a 2 to a 12 in half a semester.

Of course, the three years I was in college before turning 21 she would send me out the door with a box of Twinkies every time I came home to visit, yelling at me for being too skinny. So my blaming her is entirely justified and has nothing to do with alcohol. Right?

A few years ago while living in Chicago I became depressed as my weight crept up on me again. My oh-so-helpful-and-supportive Mother wrote me with this sage advice in email:

Subject: from yo mama

Message: blahblahblahblah [Why are you still single? I know someone who has a cousin whose step-brother’s nephew is single. I think he has a job, too. How do you feel about Nova Scotia? Give me a grandchild soon, or the dog gets another homemade tu-tu.]

also, to help your weight try eating lots and i mean lots of
fruits and veggies. i mean 2 apples at a time and a whole watermelon at once,
whatever it takes to fill you up. that really cuts down on the amount of crap
you eat cuz you're so full of fiber. it really works. don't just rely on salads
cuz they're boring unless the dressing is fattening then you might as well have
had french fries, they're so many calories.love ya,ma

I swear to god, the 2nd paragraph is unedited and appears exactly as I received it. And no, I’m not in therapy, though I am accepting referrals.

[Erin Rodriguez]

My diet disaster began when I was planning for my wedding. While I intended to diet and lose 50 pounds in 6 months(yeah, seriously), I never actually began a diet until the week before my wedding! I realized that I needed to lose as much weight as possible in a week, so I tried a diet called the Sacred Heart Medical Diet, which promised that I would lose 10 lbs. or more in 7 days. On the day of my wedding, I had indeed lost 14 lbs, but that was only because I was eating large amounts of raw vegetables and soup broth. The problem with this diet was that it caused an EXTREME NEED TO GO TO THE BATHROOM. Which is exactly what happened to me - in the middle of my wedding ceremony.
The pastor had to stop speaking while I excused myself and ran down the aisle of the church with my maid of honor trailing behind me (carrying Immodium in her purse)! I have the pictures to prove it! (Nothing but classless hicks in my family). I lost weight, but most importantly, my wedding will always be a day I remember.

[Boo]

1. Not even chemo could keep the weight off - I gained back that 17 I lost and then some.
2. Last week my husband announced that he's leaving me for another woman. BAM! I have lost 4 pounds in 5 days because I am too distracted to eat and my stomach is a total mess. Crappy life crisis, nice to see my waist again.
3. I am channeling my hamster-like anxiety into exercising every day.

Please hug your Fletch and tell him you love him. Fit and loved makes a great combination.

[Dennille Ferguson]

Well my story is rather mundane compared to that of your rather entertaining readers but I find our mind sets very similar and would very much like to read your new book ASAP.

I need to lose weight but it is hard to motivate myself since I am so used to being fat now. Sad comment, I know.

Anywho, when I was in high school I wanted to get healthy. Okay, I lied. I wanted to not be so chubby (sounds cuter than fat). So I joined Weight Watchers but I made my own program that I thought would make me lose weight faster (Weight Watchers was just a ruse so my mother would think I was following a well-balanced program). I only ate a package of baby carrots and one apple per day. Boy did it work. In two weeks time I lost about 15-20 pounds. No one saw me eat, so I know my secret was well kept. Toward the end of the second week, everyone was commenting on how different I looked. They told me my skin looked orange. Not just once, I heard that six times. So needless to say that ended my special diet. I guess I would rather be fat than orange. Today, I am not sure which I would choose....

[Sherie]

Trained and ran a marathon. No qualifying times, just tried to finish before the sweepers. 1st marathon, didn't lose much weight, 2nd marathon - stopped eating candy, cake, ice cream and added more protein and THEN got braces. Lost 20 pounds.

[Dawn]

Should I start with the tale of being moo'ed at by my brothers, no. Maybe the time my mother told me that I probably would have gone to prom if I had just lost some weight, no. How about when a boyfriend told me I would be the best girlfriend ever if only I wasn't so fat, no, not that one either. I could tell you about the 6 million times I was the girl with the pretty face---doctors, parents, boyfriends, girlfriends and their boyfriends, grandparents, teachers, my vet! And more....well, it is true, I do have a pretty face! And this pretty face spent years working on getting a pretty body! How? The cabbage diet (eat only cabbage, lose all your friends to the smell of your ass), the fat free diet (no fat, lose weight and your hair in clumps!), eat one meal a day (that lastest about a day), high protien, low carb, no carb (left me head first in a pile of doughnuts) and my favorite...the vinegar diet (melts fat away with acid...and an ulcer).

Good news, this pretty face finally got it right. Eat less, move more---with food and exercise you actually enjoy! I lost 95 pounds 10 years ago and I also came to terms with the fact that a pretty face or a pretty body don't fix everything else in your life---a positive (humor spattered) outlook makes for the prettiest you!

[Sara]

My sister and I played tennis all throughout high school. We got scholarships to college and were at a tournament in our second year. So we should be in shape, right? Well...

My entire life my Dad had a weight problem. Therefore, I grew up with a negative body image of myself. Always too fat, never in shape enough, will never be good enough (at tennis), never be the pretty pretty girl. Oh, those were the days. I look back on those pictures and think, "why, oh why can't I look like that again? I was hot!"

So we're at this tournament. I decide to go back to my parents hotel room to sleep. My Dad, Mom and my Grandmother (who had Alzheimer's at the time) were all trying to sleep. My dad is snoring like a bear, drugged out on Ambien and talking in his sleep. I was worried, and my Grandma, who couldn't get one thought straight in her head, patted my leg and said, "it'll be alright." Her one moment of clarity!

The next moment we all hear a loud THUD! We turn the lights on and, still fully asleep, my 400 lb Father yells, "TIE ME DOWN MATEY!" Everyone burst out laughing. Granted, MY DAD IS STILL ASLEEP!

I knew right then and there that weight would always, always, either in a good or bad way, be part of my life.

So - 10 years after that tournament, the death of my father and my grandmother in the same year two months apart, I've joined Weight Watchers because you know what - I want to live healthily. That's it. I don't have to be a size two or a size 10 or a size 18. I just want to be healthy. So I'm trying. That's all I can do.

Sara

[Becky]

I was the soccer cheerleader whose mom had to make her uniform because the others didn’t fit. I was the girl who was twice the size of every boy in middle school. The varsity basketball coach told me he didn’t think I was going to be able to keep up with the rest of the team if I didn’t do something about my “problem.” I did something all right. I never played basketball again.

I went on my first diet in college, and I was successful. My equally rubenesque roommate and I worked on campus over the summer so we walked, ran and played touch football every night. It was probably the healthiest summer of my life simply because I wasn’t sitting on my ass all the time.

My fiancé and I moved in together after graduation, and I happily porked back up. Unfortunately this happened AFTER I ordered my wedding dress. When I went for my first fitting I looked like sausage seeping out of its casing. I refused to let the seamstress do any alterations, and with 9 months of kicking my own ass, I looked fan-freakin-tastic and only required a bustle to look perfect on my big day.

That was the beginning of the yo-yos. After the wedding, we had very little money. I was working three jobs and eating pasta and many a vegetable every now and then; not the healthiest diet, but it kept the weight off. Then I got my teaching job. Now comfortable with “lots” of money, I spent my first summer vacation sitting on my ass stuffing my face. Practice must have made perfect because I gained a shit load of weight, over 30 pounds, in my first two years of teaching.

A few fat and unhappy years later, I did Atkins and looked fabulous! Dropped those 30 pounds and then some in one summer. But when I realized I hadn’t had watermelon or corn on the cob all summer and Atkins didn’t work in Vegas, well, that was the end of that great experiment. Next stop, working with a trainer, who used to be a former bodybuilder. Unfortunately he didn’t really want to tell me how to exercise, just how to eat. Kicked him to the curb when he told me that only fat people have to eat birthday cake to celebrate their birthdays.

So, here I am, hoping my 1 bazillionth try at weight loss will be the one that sticks. I’ve lost 26 pounds in five months, and I have about 50 more to go. I’m eating the foods I like, just in smaller portions, and I’m exercising 6 days a week. While some people must think hell hath frozen over, it hasn’t, but I am running my first 5K in May. It’s been a wild and crazy ride, and I hope this is the last time I need to take it.

[Victoria]

Okay, so last November i start having really bad heart burn and i have to change my eating habits and start exercizing (i am overweight and almost 40) so i start eating healthy, i even decide to try vegitarian...since November i have lost 30 pounds, yeah for me right? Well, vegitarianism doesn't agree with my body and i start having really bad gas...no matter what i eat i fart, fart, fart!!! So i stop going to the gym, can you imagine being on my bike in spin class and farting my brains out...poor rider behind me! So i have quit going to the gym and quit eating vegitarian and i've gained back 10 pounds...bad food doesn't make me fart but it makes me fat. I think i prefer fat over flatulance. Fat chics unite!

[Stephanie Holst]

I am 29 and 40 pounds overweight. This past December I had the brillant idea to lose 30 pounds by the time I turn 30 in October. I even came up with a cool name for my weight loss plan, I would call it "30 by 30" I started eating better, I joined a gym, and all was going well...Until I missed my period. Needless to say I'm pregnant. 10 weeks now. So, obviously my diet is over and I've gained 6 pounds. When I turn 30 this October I'll have many, many more pounds to lose on top of my already overweight frame, plus a baby.

[Hope]

Let me start out by introducing myself. Hi, my name is Hope and I'm a foodaholic (hi, Hope). I'm 38, oh shit no, I'm 39 and I've been overweight pretty much most of my life. Fat. Chubby. Plump. Big boned. Whatever you want to call it, I need to lose weight. I have spent most of my life either on or cheating on a diet.

I have found that I do my best losing weight when I exercise. A friend of mine talked me into taking yoga and I loved it. I wasn't the most flexible, but I was able to do the beginning poses and I was getting better all the time. After a while my friend suggested that we try a class at another location, you know, to just keep it fresh. We decided to just sign up for one session, see if we liked the instructor.

We walked into the class and set up our mats. After a few minutes the yogi walked in and began the class. This would have been great but he never turned off the fluorescent lights. The classes I had before were always done in minimum light with soothing music playing quietly in the background. Ooo-kay, I thought that was odd, but decided to give the class a chance despite the lack of ambiance. The class wasn‘t terrible, nothing to write home about, but better than sitting on my fat butt at home. Or at least that’s what I kept telling myself. A glance at the clock at least reassured me that the hour was almost over.

Then it happened. During an simple stretch. I’m convinced my body decided to punish me for my negative thoughts. Well, there is no easy way to say this, I passed gas. Not some simple quiet, squeaky little indiscretion that would induce a giggle or two, but a loud, echoing, trumpeting fart. I immediately collapsed onto the mat in a fit of embarrassed and silent giggles. I finally, reluctantly, turned my head to see if my friend knew it was me. The tears running down her face were a slight indication that she had.

Luckily the instructor FINALLY turned off the lights for our quiet meditation time. My friend and I looked at each other, grabbed our belongings and bolted out of the studio, not stopping until we were out of the building. I was absolutely mortified, yet I couldn't stop laughing! We swore not to tell anyone, but I hadn't even pulled out of the parking lot before I called my sister. And then my mother. I don't need to wait for somebody else to make fun of me, I have no problem doing that myself! I'm sorry but that was just too funny to not share.

Needless to say, I haven't taken THAT yoga class again, and I am petrified to take another one in pubic again. Lucky for me there are some great DVDs out there...

[jodi]

I am not sure I qualify...and before I start with my story...I have to say "hats off" to Kelly. You go girl!
My story probably started mid way through high school. I don't know for sure, because I wasn't too mindful of my weight. I remember my first weekend away at college...going to a fraternity party and being judged on the size of my behind. Naturally, I showed them! I went on to sleep my way through that fraternity...and maybe another one or two...nothing says "low self esteem" quite like that. My weight went up and down during the college years...it was at an all time low when I met my husband. I really fooled him! Suckered him into marrying me...started having his babies and BAM! All kinda weight came on. I fully expected to go into labor and lose all 40lbs I had gained with the first baby. Not so much. I didn't lose that weight...and I gained about 25 more when I had baby #2. I continued to gain weight successfully, even without getting pregnant! (yay, me!) I tried all kinda diets. I had scales to weigh food. I had books to help me prepare food. I had all the answers...and I could lose weight. I could lose 20lbs or so, then I would add 25 back on. I was seeing my doctor for some random pain I was having...and I asked her about gastric bypass surgery. She had a nurse who had just had it come in and talk to me...and I was sold on it. I went through the next 6 months of doctor appts, testing, and nervous energy...I had the surgery in November of 2005 at the starting weight of 275. By the way, I didn't think I was that fat. I weigh 149lbs right now. It is a struggle everyday. I still get cravings for sugar but can't really have a lot, because it makes me sick. I love pizza...and can have maybe a piece...before feeling as if I will explode. The surgery was not a cop out or an easy answer...it is currently working for me...but I go to the gym 3-5 times/week...I have extra skin that scares small children. But I am ok with it!

[Caroline]

Sometimes the best cure is to get sick

I recently took a new job that requires me to get up well before dawn and commute to Boston from northern Massachusetts. Anyone who's lived in or visited this tiny state has witnessed the paradox: Despite having the best colleges and universities in the nation, not a single inhabitant can operate automobile effectively. I decided to circumvent this daily rat-race torture by going in extra-early and using the discounted (and rightfully so -- it's disgusting) gym at work. Not only that, I decided to start brown bagging my lunches in an attempt to save calories and money. The idea of spending money to get fat offends me doubly. That sugar-induced jelly roll could have been a pair of shoes, which look a lot better at the end of slender legs than tree trunks.

So for the past two and a half months, I have dragged myself out from under the covers and hauled myself to the gym for an invigorating (more like disoriented) five-mile morning jog. Last week, curious about my progress, and feeling distinctly 'light,' I stepped on the scale. My accurate-to-0.2 lbs.-wondrous-addition-to-my-already-cramped-bathroom informed me that after 170+ miles, and avoiding all office goodies - that I had lost a whopping three pounds. It made me crabby and upset for the whole day, but the next morning, I resolved to turn my lemons into (sugar-free) lemonade: I reflected on the positives of getting up and jogging: improved heart health, increased alertness, feeling centered…and then my head started to hurt.

As it turns out, the headache was not my marauding pessimistic side trying to stifle my lame attempt to redirect my disappointment: I was coming down with the flu.

Friend, I couldn't have been more pleased with the results. After taking three days off from my morning workout, I lost an additional two pounds. I attribute one of those pounds to the constant shivering and the other to lack of appetite. Now after a week and a half of feeling like the inspector at the Challenger's launch site, convinced that at any moment an o-ring could go, I cannot help but be happy to report that I've lost three more pounds. If experience has taught me anything, I will regain these 5 flu pounds plus the three I lost legitimately as penance for getting (or losing) something the easy way. But until my appetite returns, I will insist on not gaining any weight to prolong my recent weight loss success.

[Sarah]

I gained 80 lbs over the course of my last long term relationship (6 years). When it ended, I began internet dating. The first guy I met totally blew me off. I decided to go to Jenny Craig, lost 50 lbs in 3 months, posted a new pic online and got an email from the same guy with an apology for the way he treated me the first time I met him, and would I give him another chance? HAHAHAHAHA! Too little too later f*cker!

[Kelly]

I do the local news in a big city and let's face it, in my business, looks matter. I get it. By putting yourself out there, you open the door for criticism about how well you do your job and your appearance.
I was hired by this particular station when I was 30 years old and on the low end of the weight loss roller coaster. I looked the best I had in my life.
Cut to four years later. I had been through a marriage, a divorce, and a category five hurricane. During those emotional and literal storms, 15 extra pounds must have been blowing around, because they flew smack dab onto my rear end and declared squatter's rights.
I thought no one noticed until one fateful day at my home. I was inside getting ready for work, and just outside my window, there were two numb-nuts re-surfacing my pool. I could hear Dumb and Dumber as they were on the other side of my bathroom wall, although they couldn't see me.
Suffice it to say, they went on and on about how I USED to be hot, and how I got fat, etc, etc. I could feel my face get red and the shame wash over me.
Then I snapped out of it. I got good and mad, dammit, at them and myself. Why did I allow myself to feel victimized at the hands of these two dumb-asses who had the unmitigated nerve to trash me on MY property and on MY dime?
I put on my suit and heels and stormed outside. I ripped back the plastic that surrounded the whole work area and savored the shock on their faces, knowing they had been stone cold busted. Then, I wielded the Perry Mason one-two punch:
"I just heard every word you pathetic excuses for men just said about me. How would you like it if your wives or girlfriends were standing in her own home and heard two morons like you saying those things about her? Now, be off of my property in ten minutes or I'll call the police. And by the way, just for the record: I can diet for a month and lose the weight. You guys on the other hand, will always be ugly. YOU'RE FIRED!"
I continue to battle the bulge, but I have never again allowed anyone to shame me.
I still work at that same tv station, and despite the fact that I am no longer a size 8, I enjoy a loyal and faithful following.
I don't need the free book, I am happy to buy it. Jenn, thank you for letting me share my story, as I have enjoyed every one of yours.

[marie]

I wanted to lose 10 lbs so I tried the crack cocaine diet. You know what? It totally worked!!!

But then I went face down in the Ding Dongs. Danced with the Devil Dogs. Became a Ho Ho ho.

I gained it all back, and then some, but I think I'm a happier person for it.

[colleen]

Jen
I know that this probably isn’t what you were looking for when you put this contest up. And most likely I don’t qualify but I wanted to let you know of the struggles of a different kind of weight problem.

When I was 12 I went to my annual physical. I had barely grown since the year before… I was in the lowest (smallest) percentile for my age. I was close to 4’-7” and weighed somewhere around 75 pounds. My doctor at the time suggested to my mother that I go to a specialist at Childern’s Hospital.

At this time in my life, my parents were in the nasty phase of their divorce… which I might add… lasted for a long time. Either way, I went to this specialist and sat in a waiting room/ exam room with my mother and father who did not talk to each other for much longer than any 12 year old should have to. When you are 12… you should not have to be the most mature person in the room trying to make conversation with your parents.

They ran tons of test and told me I was low on my growth hormone. And they gave me an option. I could get shots of the hormone but they didn’t think that was necessary. The doctor, who was super sweet but had the thickest accent ever and I made him repeat everything he said like 5 times, had an alternate. He thought that if I upped my caloric intake (A LOT!) I would grow just fine.

This was the start of my hell diet. I would get up at 6 to go to school to a breakfast of waffles and sausage and a strawberry protein shake. I would be sent to school with a decent size lunch and then I would come home to eat a plate of food that weighed as much as I did. I was not allowed to leave the table until I finished and was stuffed beyond belief. And just when I couldn’t take anymore… I had to eat a bowl of ice cream before I went to bed.

I know what you are thinking… sounds like a dream diet! But to a girl who loved being skinny and only ever ate half that in day… and a girl who was not really a fan of ice cream it was terrible! It wasn’t until two and a half years later when I finally broke the 100 pound mark that I was allowed to stop eating ice cream every night. (In case you were wondering that is 912 consecutive days of eating ice cream).

Thanks for reading! I love your books!!!

[Melanie]

Setting - I was 20 years old, in my college boyfriend's dirty room laying on his bed. I had probably just helped him with his laundry or done his homework, as he was pretty cute, but not the brightest crayon in the box. I had gained a little weight because, looking back, I was completely unhappy the entire time we were dating.

Boyfriend - *walks in and smacks me in the rear-end* "You have a big a$$"

Me - "Yeah well... you have a small d!ck"

I would like to say I walked out and never spoke to him again, but it took a couple months for me to break up with him. Then, it took another couple months to stop sleeping with him. Someone really needs to reconsider giving college kids so much freeddom! haha

I still have a big a$$, but that's what attracted my current boyfriend to me in the first place!

[Chunky A]

My current boyfriend of 3 yrs told me he would propose when I reach 150 and actual wedding at 135lbs...
Being my first "proposal" ever, he kinda ruined it...
I plan to dump him when I reach 152..

At least I love me!
And I love Jen too-Get well soon
XOXOX

[Eva]

Since boyfriend/spouse induced diets seem to be all the fad, here’s mine!

Step 1: I find out my boyfriend is cheating on me with someone 5 inches shorter and 40 pounds heavier than I am, AFTER he declares that I am, in fact, “getting chubby.”

Step 2: Lose the 5’11”, 260-pound monkey on my back, plus about 20 extra pounds around my mid-section due to “the break-up diet”. Begin therapy to restore self-image.

Step 3: Realize (the hard way) that at 5’8” 110 pounds of body mass are not enough to support physical activity to get me through the day (Long hard days behind the desk that is.). Begin religiously eating salads and chicken for every meal and join the gym (Overkill?).

Step 4: Meet wonderful (and HOT!) new boyfriend who is nothing like the last one, thereby putting the kibosh on any remaining doubts pertaining to my self-image. Also, screw chicken and salad, you know what’s good? Chocolate and beer!!!

Step 5: Maintain a healthy weight by enduring hour-long, low-impact cardio sessions 3+ times a week, (My reading material of choice on the elliptical trainer and/or bike? Why, my Jen Lancaster books of course! (Did I win with that one?)) as well as running over 20 miles a week in a meager effort to run my first 10k with above referenced wonderful boyfriend.

Step 6: Curse my lack of will power, eat too many Cadbury Crème Eggs, and up my cardio to an hour and a half 3+ times a week, because giving up those delicious sugary centers is OUT OF THE QUESTION. After all, they only come around once a year!

Step 7: Laugh at thought of ex-boyfriend and new girlfriend (the home-wrecker from Step 1) for being grotesquely overweight as I lithely prance (er, okay, POUND) why way down the asphalt.

[Krista]

Wow!So many stories, and all so admirable.

This story of mine is certainly not a story of motivation, but maybe one of irritation!

It was the night before Thanksgiving, and the kids were all snug in bed. I was in my apron cleaning,and thinking of everything I needed to do in my head. My friend Lorayne, and I settled down for a nice glass of white wine, when all of the sudden the mother-in-law decides to invade our time. We were clanking our goblets in between cleaning out giblets!! Oh what fun, and then my head spun as the mother-in-law said, "Oh Krista, you wearing that black turtleneck sweater, doesn't that bother you like heck"? I say, what do you mean, I think I look so "lean"...., "Oh no dear", she said with your double chin hanging down, doesn't that feeling make you frown"? I look to my left at my best friend looking for a place to hide...does my monster-in-law mean I am looking wide?

Humilation was when my mother-in-law asked if a turtleneck sweater I was wearing bothered me because of my double chin!!!

[DivaDivine]

I have always been the "fat girl". I was the biggest girl in junior high, in high school and almost the biggest girl in college. When you go to a school with less than 1,000 students you know if you are the biggest girl on campus. There were only a few who could beat me.
My mom always thought I would grow out of my "fatness" (if there is such a word)Well, I never did. She made me play basketball in 7, 8, and 9th grade. I hated it. Like I really wanted to hang out with a bunch of really skinny girls who were athletic. I hated it and I resented my mother for making me play. I went on some crazy restrictive diet, with my mothers blessing, and dropped a lot of weight. I became so insane about food that I ended up with an eating disorder. But, I was not as fat, so that was good.
Fast-forward to 2005. I plumped back up after I realized only eating about three of four foods was not fun. Actually, I think college, with its unlimited high calorie food selections, sent me over the edge. I was the biggest girl again. I tried to act like it didn't bother me, but it did because who likes to shop at Lane Bryant when all your friends are shopping at Macy's.
Well, I finally said enough is enough and I started exercising regularly. I know I probably looked like a “hot mess” but I figured I paid the same amount of money as the other people to use the equipment so if they didn’t like it they would kiss my fat butt. I finally figured out I need to exercise early in the morning. Yeah, like I go to the gym at 5:00 am. If I don’t go early, I won’t go at all. I also figured out I am not a team sport kind of girl. I don’t play well with others and I hate the competition aspect of team sports. I have to compete with myself, not someone else. I wish I would have known that years ago, it would have saved me some heartache.
Anyhow, I finally figured out how to eat balanced meals….it took a dietician to make me realize you cannot eat 500 calories one day and 2,500 the next. Nor, can you justify eating Starbucks and Taco Bell twice a week just because you worked out in the morning. It’s really all about moderation.
In just over three years, I have dropped 115 pounds. I still have about 50 to 60 more until I will be at my goal weight. Last weekend, I ran/walked in a St. Patrick’s Day Race. I finished the 4 mile race in 54 minutes, my mile pace was 13:44 and I was 31 out 108 participants. Not bad for the “fat girl.”

[Sara]

I grew up with 4 asshat brothers who always have a comment about the size of my butt which gave me a complex, Now a Divorced 26 yr old, I have tried everything under the sun (like everyone else) to loose that complex. In October my mom (who is a twig) challenged me to start a "BootCamp Fitness"
class that was 5 days a week for an hour and includes a free ass chewing every class. My first class the instructor told me QUOTE: "You make me sick get your fat ass down and do pushups" 350 pushups later and a bucket of tears I did it and have stuck with it for 5 months now. I wish I could say I was my dream weight but I'm still a long way off. I have lost 2 dress sizes and even though each day is a struggle I go with the knowledge that I am strong enough now to kick the shit out of the brothers who called me thunder thighs as a kid and nothing can beat that!!!!

[petal]

To make a long story short. At sixteen weighed 130 and 5'7". Thought I was sooo fat. Tried to think of easiest way to lose the weight. Starved myself on bread and unsweetened icetea followed by a chocalate laxative. (I know I had problems) My mother noticed the weight loss. Down to 120 pounds in 10 days. Found the laxatives missing. Well I was not allowed out of my parents sight for six months. Try explaining that to all your friends. But probably saved me from a future eating disorder

[Jen]

I remember going out with my true girlfriends, all of us a Lane Bryant 14 or larger. Our cute boy server at Red Robin smiled sheepishly and asked ”Hey are you ladies gonna start with our great onion ring tower?” My hero Kelly Jo snickered, “Do you really need to ask us? We are fatgirls and yes let’s do it”. I beamed. There is something so wonderful in celebrating our mutual rolls, bellies and asses over food and drink! Of course even with all that bravado, many diets have been tried. Here is my sampler.

1. The intense cult-like obsessive: Count calories, count fat grams, count miles of biking and walking. Find large amount of hair on pillow, clothes, and pass out once. Enter the 9th grade with size 12 Forenza pants and coordinated OutbackRed button down. Yesssss!

2. The anti-diet: Lots of diet soda throughout the school day. Skip lunch to go to the smoking bathroom for a Marlboro Red. Eat a bag of Doritos with picante sauce before dinner. Write really bad poetry about how mean the world is to fatgirls.

3. The college: Start a workout log. Climb the stairs in Urness Hall for the adrenaline rush. Quit smoking. Can see the four parts of my quad muscle. Buy jeans at Maurice’s for trip to Europe, size 8! Start smoking cigarettes again.

4. The end of college: Break up with insane meth-head boyfriend. Graduate with honors. Start real work. Start and stop Weight Watchers at least 10 times. Beer has points. Curses!

5. The club years: Work two jobs. Smoke endless cigarettes. Eat only when hungry? Dance until bar close plus make it to work in the morning and serving job at night. Drink with great friends and meet loser boys.

6. The real relationship: Work two jobs. Smoke endless cigarettes. Drink wine over shots. Try eating nothing white. Sneak junkfood into apartment when boyfriend is not home. Curse him silently as he wakes up earlier than necessary to do push ups and an ab routine. Lane Bryant 16’s are tight. Damn.

7. The single again: Take anxiety meds. Still smoke. Pay for gym membership I don’t use. Yet. Have great friends, thank God. Bought beautiful Ralph Lauren charcoal pants in an 18.

Twenty years of sometimes losing and sometimes gaining, but more importantly, twenty years of really living. Even with a big ass.

[Victoria]

I did the Master Cleanse.

The End.

[Janelle]

I was always chubby growing up. I started to gain weight when I was around 6 years old. I continued to eat and get fatter. Kids are cruel (apparently adults are worse) and I was made fun of growing up. Bastards! When I was a freshman in high school I started running cross-country and lost weight, but was still the fattest of all my friends. I stayed at a healthy weight (I thought) of 135 pounds until senior year of high school (I changed schools). No more cross-country for me. I continued to eat and went to college fatter. I topped out at 190 pounds my junior year of college (I am only 5'3). One year after graduating college I started working downtown and joined a gym. I started running again and have kept off the weight. I have been able to stay at 150 pounds for 4 years, but am stll the largest of all my friends!

[Fe]

Remember back in the 90s when Kate Moss’ picture was everywhere? Seemed like you couldn’t get away from her and her ridiculously skinny ass. Back then, whenever I saw her on a billboard or a magazine, I would launch into a rant about Kate Moss should be required to eat more donuts. The thought being that we would all look thinner if she were, uh, fatter. I suppose it’s not so much weight loss as it is weight equality. If that makes me a BMI socialist so be it: I’m all for sharing the poundage.

[Tina]

True Sequence of Events:

View photos my mother sent on-line.

Do not recognize myself in photo. The slideshow went to a picture of a woman & I briefly wondered who it was before coming to the horrid realization the woman was me.

Determine it is time to get serious about losing weight.

Feel happy I only had a few bites of pasta & a huge bowl of popcorn for dinner.

Decide some ice cream would be good about now. If I need to start my "Stop eating so damn much" diet, I should start after I finish off the last of the mint chocolate chip, right?

Open freezer.

Relieved to find there is just an average size bowl of ice cream left. Now I can start eating less in good conscience tomorrow.

Walk with ice cream to sit fat ass in front of TV.

Walk over to mail table to see if latest issue of Cooking Light came. Yes, while eating the ice cream.

Walk back across hardwood floor. Notice it really needs to be vacuumed/swept/washed, as there is dog hair everywhere.

Dog starts barking loudly.

Barking startles me & I drop the bowl of precious mint chocolate chip ice cream.

Stare at broken cup & ice cream ball on dog hair covered floor... for longer than 3 seconds.

Determine it wasn't really a sign that I should start eating less immediately.

Put ice cream not directly touching the floor into new bowl.

Pick up glass pieces & remaining ice cream on the floor.

Go back to eating ice cream & watching Grey's Anatomy.

Worry I ate a tiny bit of broken cup with my ice cream, as the chips seemed a touch crunchy.

REALLY MUST start eating less tomorrow.

[Julie]

I was born a normal weight and it was downhill after that. In my life I’ve probably gained and lost over 1000 pounds. Each time I lost weight, I gained it back plus more. Weighed 180 in 8th grade, went down to 140. I weighed 160-170 pounds in high school and learned how to starve myself, make myself puke, and managed to get hold of diet pills. By the time I was 20 I was over 200. I got to 300 and lost 80, my end goal being a trip to England for two weeks. Shortly thereafter I met my husband. I remained steady at about 210 until after I got married. My brother’s wedding was seven months later, by that time I had shot up to 260 and it continued on until 365 pounds five years ago. I was 41 at the time. I couldn’t fit into theater seats or booths at restaurants and had to be careful on what chairs I sat. Trust me, 365 pounds and a folding chair equal embarrassing. My seatbelt didn’t buckle. I couldn’t find clothes that fit. I could barely walk. Stairs were my enemy. Food was my best friend and I hated myself. When my doctor told me I’d be in a wheelchair by the time I was 60 something drastic had to be done. So, almost five years today I had gastric by-pass surgery. The company I worked wouldn’t pay for it, so we broke into our 401K, but it was well worth it. I went from 365 pounds down to my lowest weight of 160 pounds. My goal was to make it below 200 pounds. Surgery’s not for everyone, but it worked for me. Two years after it, the company that wouldn’t pay for it decided to start downsizing and let both my husband and I go after 24 and 25 years of employment. Surprisingly I lost weight while being unemployed, but I did discover salt and vinegar potato chips. Had I not had the surgery, there was no way I would have been able to look for a new job. I probably would have ended up on the evening news as the fat lady they had to break a wall down to get out of the house because she weighs 800 pounds. And, fortunately I came across your book around the same time and I was able to see that we weren’t the only people this happened to, so your wit and sense of humor helped me cope during that most awful period of my life. So, between my newly discovered self esteem and being able to find humor in such a bad situation, I was able to look for a new, better job. Actually while I’d love to win the advanced copy of your book, I’m glad this gives me the opportunity to thank you, regardless. Keep writing, keep making all of us laugh!

[Katie]

After 21 years of being the "fat" friend, I was working my ass of during summer break. He 2 jobs, waitress at country club during the evenings, and parks deparment gopher during the day. I developed great abs and biceps from lifting both trays filled with filet mignon and buckets of mud at the parks, but still almost looked pregnant with a horrible gut! After months of horrible cramps and mid-cycle bleeding episodes, my doctor sent me to have an ultrasound. After the stupid tech couldn't find my bladder for the fourth time, the radiologist came in and found it, under an 11 pound Ovarian Cyst! Subsiquent surgery 12 hours later left me 23 pounds lighter, with a 6" vertical scar from belly button down, and with a concave tummy! For the first time in my life I was told I was skinny! I weighed 160 and was 5'9", so yeah, that was skinny to me, but still not a size 10! I kept the weight off until I got married 4 years later, then all hell broke loose. Now I am 32, have 2 boys under the age of 3, and had another abdominal surgery in the form of an emergency c/section. Although I'm hovering at the 200 mark, I'm very happy and the paunch I have is not another pregnancy, it's the damn result of having my ab muscles sliced vertically 10 years ago! Damn that doctor all to heck!

[Jolene]

I recently moved to the city from a small hicktown in Nowhere, GA to go to college. I managed to gain the 20 lbs in 4 months!!! I'd been 120 all my life so this was a major shock. The sad part is I only realized it when I went home to see my Mom for Christmas. O.K. My mother has never been subtle or calm about ANYTHING. SO, right when I walk into the door she completely flips. I have my wonderful boyfriend with me at the time, and she completely starts BEATING THE CRAP out of him!!! I scream and yell "MOMMA, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING?!!??" She shrieks at me: "THIS ASSHOLE GOT YOU PREGNANT, DIDN'T HE???!!!" OMG...I have never been so humiliated in all my fugging 18 years. I wanted to die and sink into the floor and DIE (did I really look pregnant?), but I managed to break up the fight (entirely on her part) and save my boyfriend (entirely innocent of all charges) before any blood was drawn. *Sigh. Interestingly enough, he and I are still together, it must really be love. That and the fact that we don't have any children at the present.
So needless to say, when I got back to college I started moving around more and getting some exercise instead of sitting on my ass eating Krispy Kremes.

[Rebecca]

New jeans without elastic in the waist = $50 (at the GAP!)

Lingerie that you can buy at Victoria's Secret = $75

Weight Watchers join-up fees, membership dues, extra books, recipes = probably around $1000....

"Health" food at the grocery store (versus the cheap, generic, caloric-laden, so much easier to find everywhere else in America food) = altogether exceeding $2000....

Seeing the dimples that emerge on your face for the first time ever in your life after having lost enough weight = yeah, you guessed it....

Priceless.

(Also, winning an advanced copy of Jen's new book = priceless).

[Anna]

I am one of the least ‘naturey’ biologists you will ever meet. I am also lazy and rather attached to civilization (ie. Starbucks) but in the last few years have been pushing myself to step outside my comfort zone. Thus, I decided it would be a great idea to take a 2 week field course to the mountains of Mexico last winter. I thought it would be sitting under palm trees, watching birds, collecting leaves…. I was told it would be good to work out in preparation, but I was anticipating leisurely meandering along the beach. Instead we climbed every hill in the province, many of which were so steep they had mini steps carved into them. The first night I thought I was going to have a heart attack and die right there. I was ready to go home, or at least find an all inclusive somewhere. But I stayed, and climbed a lot more hills and cried as I climbed from time to time, but I came home tanned, 15 pounds lighter (because I developed an abhorrence of tortillas day 5 thanks to all the gorging of them on days 1-4) and with a sense of accomplishment. I’m going into the field for my Masters this summer, and am already working out, developing my cardiovascular and muscle endurance and making myself climb as many hills as I can find (I live in Montreal – its pretty easy). I had put on a few pounds back from the ones I lost last winter but I’m down a size already and feeling better about myself overall – and looking forward to the summer, being the best biologist I can be (in the cutest hiking boots ever – they’re pink)!

(P.S. Jen, last night I was awoken by toilet water dripping out of my ceiling thanks to my upstairs neighbour and now completely understand your Calcutta moments in 'Bright Lights' *Shudders, goes to launder towels AGAIN*)

[NJ]

Be glad I am not judging this contest because I have read almost every entry submitted and haven't found one good one yet. This one may not be any better!

I have been on every diet:

WW, Jenny Craig, Nutri-System, LA Weight Loss, Alli, medically supervised weight loss with Phentermine, you name it, I've been on it. And every time I have gained back the weight plus 10 pounds.

WW, etc. are the WORST. They are cookie cutter diets that aren't suitable for everyone. WW in particular. I was doing the stupid points and exercising for 2 months and lost nothing, not one pound and all WW did was ask me the same canned questions about drinking water, eating points, etc. No one there is a MEDICAL doctor and I am pretty sure most of them lost brain cells when they magically lost their weight by not eating their kids Dinobites. I could go on and on about

I’ve had a life long struggle with my weight and have spent thousands of dollars on weight loss. Now I am fatter than ever. My boyfriend has already said he will not propose until I "get healthy", my family is embarrassed of me and I refuse to go out because I am embarrassed of me. I refuse to buy any new clothes because I am at the point where I am going to have to go into plus sizes and I won’t do it. I also am dreading the summer and refuse to go on a vacation because I will have to strip down. I normally hate winter but this year I didn’t – it gave me extra time to hide. Stupid but true. Mentally I don’t think I am fat but when I look in the mirror I am huge. I finally broke down and went to a very unhelpful doctor who ordered blood tests. When they came back she ignored the abnormal thyroid results and now I am in search of a doctor that can help me because I now know that even if I ate lettuce and exercised 4 hours a day something would still be preventing me from losing weight!

[Katie]

In high school, I was the worst kind of skinny girl. I was too busy complaining about my big ass and small boobs to realize that I had a hot little booty (later described as "perky", thanks Phil) and modest rack that would never sag to my knees. I slept a lot, because I loved it, and I never exercised, because I hated it. It worked for me. It turns out that working 30 hours a week as a hostess at a restaurant and having your mother prepare your meals makes it pretty easy to maintain a decent bod. I didn’t learn this until it was too late.

Starting college was about two things for me: immersion and intoxication. I immersed myself in the college culture: staying up late, skipping class because it was cold outside, and eating what I wanted to, when I wanted to. I was intoxicated by a heady mixture of beer and freedom, but I like to tell myself that my downfall was freedom. I will never blame the beer.

It was my sophomore year when the "You're so tiny!" comments that I had rebuffed for years came to a screeching halt. I wasn't too concerned. I could overlook my pants getting tighter because my boobs were getting bigger. It wasn't until my senior year that I admitted to myself that all the pizza and artichoke dip and jugs of wine I downed (just because I could) were actually taking a toll. It wasn't until about two days after graduation that I looked at my naked form in the mirror and was disgusted at the sight.

I resolved to be less of a fatass. I started jogging (fine, speed walking) a few times a week and restricted my calories. It was all Special K and turkey sandwiches for this girl. I managed to drop almost half of what I gained in college.

Then I picked up a second job. About five months after my new regime began, I was getting up at 6am every day to jog (for real!) before going to my works for 14 hours a day. My diet went to complete shit. Turns out, it's very easy to rationalize your way right back to McDonalds and Taco Bell not once, but TWICE a day (because I had TWO jobs). It's even easier to gain back poundage fast enough to make you want unwind after a long day with a Drano cocktail.

OK, so somewhere between the burgers and fries, I snapped out of it. Almost two years later, I only have one job, I work out, and fruits and vegetables have become my new pizza and dip. Yes, it sucks. Being fat sucked more. I am now within 10 pounds of my freshman weight. My booty is still a booty, but a little tighter. The boobs have shrunk back to their mosquito bite sizes. I can't be mad about that, though, because they are still miles away from my knees.

[Kristin]

In high school, I was a bit chubby. By chubby I mean about 165 with a tiny waist and a not-so-tiny lower half (hello Big Booty Club). My dad once told me he had prayed for me to stay fat until I graduated so that I wouldn't date (God must have been on his side).

But, I always knew that there was an athlete underneath the junk in my trunk so I kept "trying" to excel in sports. I tried softball and then soccer before finally deciding to try Cross Country running. I know what you're thinking, that is possibly the worst sport to try if you are not the most physically fit person...but I thought that the intense (i.e. painful and horrific) practices would whip me into shape quick. Well, I was wrong about getting me into shape (at least at that point) but it did leave me with some really laughable tales to tell later on.

One day my friend and I (she was the second slowest runner on the team, yours truly being the first) decided to sign up for a Saturday race. Why? I don't know but we regretted it come six A.M that Saturday.

When coach was giving each of us our goal times on the bus the way there, he looked at me and said, "Kristin, your goal is to finish!" He was not joking.

Anyways, we were in the slow heat so when we were finishing up the race (magically, I finished and didn't even cheat the course...take that COACH!) the winner from the fast heat began to pass us. As she was gliding along our eyes got bigger and bigger until we both looked at each other through glistening brows and knew that what we had seen would live on in infamy.

This poor girl, the winner of this race, was so into it that she managed to shit herself mid-run. And when I say shit, I mean nasty brownish green, runny diarrhea that had sloshed all down her legs and seeped into her socks and her sneakers. I guess stopping to poo would have been unacceptable so she just let it flow.

While we waited in line to register our times and stood behind this girl (pretty far behind making squishy faces to hold our noses) we kind of just stood there silent, in awe. Although, there was definitely some whispering going around, "Did she...?" "Is that...?" "It could be mud..." no one could deny that she wasn’t dedicated.

Dedication, skinny legs, and nice ass aside—I think it was at that moment that I realized I would rather be fat and happy, sitting on my couch, watching Golden Girls and eating cheesecake than walking around with shit down my legs, even if I had won that fucking race.

[Brittany]

I've always had a little extra oomph on me. Especially around the middle. After I had my kid I lost a lot of weight breastfeeding (you burn up to 800 calories! If only I could breastfeed his whole life.) But as soon as I quit, I gained the weight back and then some. I would get so depressed because I had to use an elastic hair tie to "button" my jeans, that to drown that sorrow I'd often make a pan of brownies, frost them and eat them all in one sitting. I tried Atkins in the past and lost 10 pounds the first 2 weeks. So I was absolutely resolved to do this.
Now one strange thing about me is that whenever I start a new diet or exercise plan, I have to start on Monday. So I decided to start Atkins on a Tuesday afternoon and proceded to pig out the whole week until Monday came.
I did my Atkins friendly grocery shopping the day before. I found some of that flavored water and thought that would help me. I checked the carb content. Zero. I double checked and triple checked and then grabbed all the flavors.
Monday morning arrives and I eat my eggs for breakfast and then grab a flavored water. I check the carb content. Zero. I double check and triple check. Nope. Hasn't changed. Only one problem. I can't get the stupid lid off. After 5 minutes of desperately trying, I put it back in my fridge and grab another one. The lid pops off easily and I drink the whole bottle. I'm amazed at how good it tastes. I look at the carb content (like I really need to for a thousandth time) and it has 35 carbs! How could this have happened? Turns out I had accidentally grabbed one that wasn't diet. All the rest in the fridge were diet.
I immediately went in the kitchen and loaded up on carbs. Maybe next Monday.

[Steph]

I don't have a weight loss story to tell. Do I want one? Sure. But here's the catch - I'm tired of telling myself that being thinner will somehow make me better.

It won't. It will make me thinner. It's not going to lead to some magic happiness heretofore undiscovered in my life. It's not going to lead to some fabulous new experience which will finally reveal the meaning of my existence. It's not going to validate my worth as a woman or a person.

Am I another fat chick justifying her laziness and lack of willpower? Maybe, but I'm a happy, secure, valuable and valued fat chick justifying her laziness and lack of willpower. I'll take it.