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

[Michelle]

It was the late 90's...probably the summer of '97 or '98. I had gotten my wisdom teeth out and for the first time in my life turned down food that I normally love -- for example, the KFC mashed potatoes that my mom was gingerly offering me suddenly repulsed me. Amazing. After a few weeks, my appetite came back, but I had lost some weight and was feeling like I might finally get to a healthy weight. So, I decided to follow the Atkins craze. I embraced omelettes and all kinds of greasy meat and said goodbye to my beloved bread. I did this for a few weeks religiously. And then it happened. I broke out in hives or some sort of shingles looking rash. It was all along my spine and quickly spread to my arms. Long story short, I had to go to the doctor (which was more difficult -- perhaps traumatic is a more fitting word -- than the diet itself.) The doctor ended up putting me on steroids...um, hello? Don't those bulk you up? Needless to say, I quickly took it as a sign from above that dieting was literally bad for my health, and I am now, and always will be a big girl.

[Ali]

They say when you have children, it is 9 months on, 9 months off . . . .really? Well, 5 years later, I am still 15 pounds ABOVE my pre-preggo weight. This is only after I joined Weight Watchers with a friend at work and lost 20 pounds. My goal is to lose 30 pounds . . . THEN I will reward myself with a prize. Well, a boobie prize to be exact. YES, I said boobie prize . . .big, round, perky, gravity defying stripper boobs. AND, I am going to wear a bikini to the beach this summer. I am going to strut my pasty white body down the coast. I am going to lay my towel down beside the largest woman I can find and I am going to bake myself and my new boobs to golden perfection. What would make this scenario PERFECT is if I had "Such a Pretty Fat" in one hand and a Mai Tai in the other!

[amanda]

I have always hated my body, even though I am what a lot of people would call "skinny". I just have never seen it that way. I made my own deal-a-meal cards in the 4th grade! I look at pictures from high school, when I was 5'7" and 125, and get annoyed that I spent all that time in gigantic clothes because I wanted to hide. I think about how self-conscious I was in college when I weighed about 135. Now I am 150, and would love to lose just 5 to 10 ppiunds (more because I can't afford to replace my suits than because I am really really unhappy with my body), and I think about all those years I wasted feeling bad about myself when in reality, I looked pretty great. So, I try to focus on being healthy, and I know my boyfriend loves me, and he tells me all the time I look much better with the weight, but I feel like the urge to talk smack about myself will never leave me. I wish I knew what to do about that.

[ie]

Vignettes from a fat girl’s life:

Age 5: Overhear parents discussing how “chubby” I looked in my favorite new pink dress.

Age 12: Convince my Aunt to buy me my first and only two piece bathing suit. Proceed to hide in mortal fear from “uncle” for the entire two weeks.

Age 15: Take two week road trip from Nevada to Vancouver, Canada, drinking Pepsi and stuffing my face the whole way. Accuse my guardian of shrinking all of my clothing when we got back.

Age 19: My boyfriend told me that if I lost 20 lbs in one month we would go on a motorcycle tour from Las Vegas to Los Angeles. I ate nothing but salad and drank nothing but grapefruit juice for an entire month. Lost 20+ lbs. Boyfriend went on the trip without me.

Age 27: Embark on a “no sugar/no caffeine” regimen. After surviving the caffeine withdrawals, it worked! Lost 50+ lbs. Hooked up with my new partner, who was thin and could eat anything. Lost my mind and thought I could too. Ha.

Age 46: It’s an ongoing process. I don’t hate my body, but I sometimes hate what my mind tells me about it.

[Shazza]

When I had jaw surgery, the entire cast and crew of my medical ‘team’ kept telling me I was going to lose massive amounts of weight. They said it with worried concern, I heard it with happy music playing in my head. I was so excited that I would shiver with happy.

Fast forward to waking up clutching a morphine pump button, which I frantically pushed nonstop in hopes of more happy juice and my doctor holding a bag that says ‘catheter pump’ explaining to me how to pump liquids into the hole that formerly was my mouth. Which was now splinted, stitched, wired, and swollen. I was essentially using an ass pump to launch food into my throat without touching any part of anything, like a high stakes game of Operation.

I got home, clutching my ass pump, and got out soup that I had purchased pre-surgery. Note to all: salty soup in mouth that has been sliced and diced? Not a good plan. Not a good plan at all. Especially since you can’t rinse out salty concoction, you can just slur out curses towards the Campbell’s kids. I sat in front of the television watching movies and pumping potato soup, ice cream, diet coke, and pain medicine in my gullet. Needless to say, when I got on the scale, the needle went the wrong way.

[Kristina]

Having to revist the best/worst diet story is giving me waves of regret and shame. I know what my problem stems from - my father died when I was three - but am still unwilling to tug at that thread through therapy so I improvise through food. I guess you can say my life in weight loss has been the worst story over all. From being told at ten by my riding instructor to lose weight then being told when I was oh so proud about a few pounds simply "that's not enough" to being fed fizzes pill weight loss supplements at age 12 it's been a struggle. Jr High was the typical nightmare of name calling and mocking. (How do you explain to anyone who didn't live through that time fat how horrible it was?) During my 20's I lost the weight the wrong way for the wrong reasons and in my 30's after a bout of cancer gained it back. Now plunked in my 40's (note: barely!) I hope to make my BEST story and conquor the weight demons and heal thyself.

[K2]

When I first tried dieting in college (I was thin before that), I cut my drinking back to only beverages with NO CALORIES. So, my mixed drink of choice was Diet Coke and Light Rum. Surprisingly, I didn't lose any weight.

[Michelle]

Being picked to play the role of "Dr. Johnson" (my elementary school principal), in our end of the school year field day activities, and hearing Scott Webb say, "That's appropriate." started it all for me...He (D.J.) was a portly, old school mutha who, I think, hated kids and enjoyed being a principal for three (3) reasons, June, July, and August. Anyhoo, I digress...He was fat. Enough said. That translated to "Michelle is fat." and it has stuck with me ever since sixth grade.

Yo-yo dieting ensued, and has been the modus operandi eversince. Lose 20, gain 25, lose 40, gain 50, have twins, gain 65, never lose that, have a baby five years later, keep that weight, and gain some more just to be sure you seal the deal for a heart attack, and voila you have a 175 pound weight gain. I often wonder why I hang on to the weight instead of shedding it...Anyone licensed to do any psychotherapy online here at Jennsylvania?

My thought is to start going to Weight Watchers, really jump in and tackle the weight...I worry that my daughters have seen me go up and down and not stick with losing the weight, and I hate the thought of passing that behavior on to them (not sticking with something). My hope is that in losing the weight, and being consistent, that they will see a healthier mom who made a good choice. So basically, I want to do this for my family. I feel selfish saying that I want to do it for myself...know what I mean? Guess it's just the mom in me talking :o) So, that's my story...Hopefully, my daughters will see their mom this summer, slimmer, healthier, and laughing her ass off at Jen's new book...signed, sealed, and delivered baby :o)

[Kerri]

I call my weight loss progam The Lazy Girls Diet.
A few years ago I took a "voluntary resignation" from my job and finished school. So from the month of April until October (when I finally got off my lazy ass and got a new job) I was unemployed and reaping the benefits of a severence package and then unemployment.

So while most people who are unemployed gain weight, I know you are wondering how did I lose all the weight and become the skinniest I had ever been in my life? The plan is really simple. Drink gallons of iced coffee and smoke cigarettes all day. You will find yourself in such a nicotine/caffeine fog you will actually forget to eat most of the time. Don't forget to combine it with the latest chick lit (or Harry Potter, your choice) and a new puppy. Ta daaaa! The weight just melts off.

[Renee]

OMG, where do I begin??

Background: My body is a TAFFY APPLE. Long thin legs with a HUGE mid-section and large breasteses. Literally, if I could cut out "the middle man" it would be a decent body, but the middle NEVER BUDGES. Thanks for that Grandma and Mom! Along those lines Grandma and Mom both have Type 2 diabetes, high blood pressure, high cholesterol, had their Gall bladders removed, and have an addiction to bad food. Being fat and loving food is IN MY GENES and I must fight it for the rest of my life to be somewhat healthy.

With that I give you, "Renee: The Weight Madness Years."

High School - managed to stay somewhat in shape due to mandatory PE and Pom Pons, but still lied about weight on my first ever license.

College - put on the 15-20, then roomed with BFF Nutrition Major and workoutaholic 2nd year and got back down to HS weight.

Post College - Got OFFICE ASS and BLEW UP. Got engaged at 23 to miserable HS Sweetheart, got divorced at 24. Never knew how to be single. Must. Get. Hot. For. Bar. Scene.

Post Divorce - Join WW. Lose 17 pounds. Looking pretty damn good. Ready for the single scene.

2 years later, join WW AGAIN after putting back on 10-12 of the 17 lost, barely lose 10 pounds before quitting again.

Meet Boyfriend (soon to be hubby) - gain weight from love and eating out in Chicago. Get gallbladder taken out due to up and down weight rollercoaster over past 10 years.

Getting Married in 06 - try the Fat Smash diet, work out, barely lose 8 pounds for wedding. Still looked hot and was getting married to dream man, so whatever.

Summer 2007 - tried NutriSystem. Most. Disgusting. Food. Ever. And BTW, their "unsubscribe" button on their emails doesn't work, so they are about to get a NASTY letter.

Today - currently doing Weight Watchers and struggling to reach the 10 pound mark after 20 weeks. Why am I doing this? OH, RIGHT, so I can get pregnant this fall and not turn into JABA THE HUTT and not get gestational diabetes like my mom did. Fun.

Lipo is looking really good right now.

[Danielle]

Can I just say that Kathy's story of the fourth grader made me cry. I remember being that little girl.

If anyone wins I think it should be Kathy. Just sayin'

*sniffles*

[kjax]

Is being humiliated by a treadmill part of a weight loss/diet tale?

My employer decided to let employees use the cardiac rehab area after working hours for fitness. Since we had to have partners, I signed up with a coworker. We walked on treadmills every afternoon and then followed up with stair steppers and weights. Or just sitting and talking. Whatever seemed more interesting at the moment.

The treadmills were positioned in a weird place. There were only about 9 to 12 inches between the back of the treadmill and a wall and just enough room to walk in front of them, and they were positioned slightly on a diagonal. One day I was picking up a towel as I walked down the line of treadmills. I smacked my knee right into the air grill on one of the treadmills. (I'm positive it jumped out and viciously attacked me but I could never prove it.) Much dramatic shrieking, moaning and swearing ensued. I looked down and the skin on my knee was shredded, but no blood. Since I didn't want to appear to be a "wuss," I soldiered on. Turns out being a wuss is EXACTLY the right move in these situations.

I hopped on and started walking. Walking, walking, walking. A little later I feel something...odd. I looked down and a trickle of blood was slowly oozing its way down my leg from my shredded knee.

So I reached up to grab my towel. Somewhere between looking down and up and down again, I lost my balance and lurch sideways, knocking my friend off her treadmill. I landed on my butt on her treadmill and was immediately shot to the back of the piece.

Remember that wall immediately behind the treadmill? Yeah. Luckily my fall was stopped by my face hitting the wall. I had a black eye, a scrape down my cheek and across my forehead, and a huge scratch on the opposite ear, which I never figured out.

Turns out THAT’S why they had us sign those disclaimers. Apparently they knew all about Ms. Coordination here.

The only thing better than being beaten up by a treadmill? Being beaten up by a treadmill in front of several coworkers and subordinates, some of who abstractly, but not literally (maybe) want you dead so they can have your job. Excellent.

P.S. I’m still fat.

[kim]

October 2007: Husband and I realize we are going on a cruise to Hawaii in 6 weeks, decide to order NutriSystem.
November 2007: Lost 11 pounds, happy, happy, happy!!
December 1, 2007: Binge on pizza, Ben & Jerry's, chardonnay.
December 2, 2007: Scream until throat is hoarse at husband due to NutriSystem gas (more deadly than napalm). Husband retaliates that I have not been so spring-time fresh myself.
December 3, 2007: Quit NutriSystem, immediately gain back 5 pounds, husband gains back 15.
February 15, 2008: Join gym in attempt to reduce ripple effect flab is causing.
March 10, 2008: Sell NutriSystem on eBay for $550. Recoup lost funds and lost pounds.

[Kelly]

*Magic Recipe for Weight Gain*
Serves: 24 lbs.

1 graduating college with no job or post-graduation plans in sight

1 messy painful breakup with college boyfriend of three years

1 daily late-night love fest with Chef Boyardee Spaghetti & Meatballs

1 daily mid-afternoon love fest with KFC Chicken Pot Pie

1 daily alcohol-induced coma

Apply all to 5'3" caucasian female with bad fat genes. Mix for three months, ideally between February and May 2004, and let simmer.

*Magic Recipe for Weight Loss*
Serves: -30 lbs.

1 guy who was just a friend who has been waiting like a knight in shining armor

1 graduate school acceptance letter

1 magical proposal under the stars

1 kick-ass huge Southern wedding

Apply to same 5'3" caucasian female with bad fat genes. Mix for two years, ideally between August 2004 and May 2006, and let simmer. Ideally, female will stay happy long enough with new husband to keep the weight off...at least until the "comfortable couple couch sessions" kick in.

[Jesika]

I don't really have a story. My simple comment is that I knew it was time for me to lose weight when I would get on top for sex with my husband and I had to ask,"you ok down there? can you breath?". needless to say, I'm still 30lbs overweight, but now divorced. which btw was my choice. and my goal when i started dating was to simply, date someone whose legs were larger in circumference than my wrist so i never had to ask that question again!

[Nicky]

Growing up, it took me awhile to realize that: 1. I was fat, and 2. being fat was a bad thing. Naively, I once took an entire bag of Rollos on the school bus (mmm…Rollos) and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what my portly self was called for the next few years. Being fat and smart and a smart-ass is sort of a deadly combination, and the after-school bus beatings definitely taught me being fat was not a good life plan. But did I learn? Hell, no! My parents simply started picking me up from school and I never saw those kids again. No more beatings, solved. Avoidance is good, eating is better, and I could be a smart-ass all I wanted.

So I stayed fat all through high school (despite nights of crying over the dumb boys who didn't want to kiss me), got thin(ner) in college thanks to the world’s greatest diet, Mono. Being immune is a bitch! Kicked ass by working in the music biz, sleeping with hot guys, and pretty much conquering the world. Or so I thought.
Years later I’m fatter than ever, in a happy relationship, and miserable thinking about being elderly and tubby. I mean, those women in housecoats with elephant arms? Who wants to be saggy and require a Rascal to get around the house? So I joined a gym, started a sensible plan, and…nothing. My poly-cystic ovaries are keeping years of fat cells firmly in place. I saw this as an excuse to eat as much chocolate ice cream as my stomach could take, but one look at my cankles reminded me that I don’t want to be fat, 50, and buying my elastic-waist pants from Parade magazine. So now I’m on nutritionist-approved plan, and taking medicine that gives me diarrhea according to its whims. Still, I’ve lost 22 lbs since June and feel better than I have in a long time.

Lessons learned? Mono rocks, Rollos are awesome, and if you don’t learn to like yourself a little bit, and laugh at yourself a lot, life will suck no matter what you weigh.

[Malia]

Oh, Jen, I feel your pain on the whole sick thing: strep throat AND bronchitis, which is not a winning combination. Anyway, my story can't really compare to a lot of the other ones, but I love you and I want that book, and instead of studying for a midterm, I'm doing this.

All of my (as-to-date short) life, I was always the "pudgy" girl in class, even though I was never really fat. There was always the contingent of boys in elementary school who decided "The Whale" was an appropriate nickname for me, but then again, this wasn't exactly the popular, skinny crowd giving me this name, and so I didn't let it bother me too much. And I kept eating pretty much whatever I wanted.

I was a fairly healthy if somewhat chunky weight for my height until my freshman year of high school, when an unfortunate fall made me snap some ligaments in my leg, and I became pretty much sedentary for an entire summer. My metabolism didn't recover for all of high school, and I shudder to look at my prom pictures, because I look like the Michelin Tire Man in a black-and-red gown.

But then I started college on one of the longest (5 miles!) campuses in America, and of course my dorm was the farthest away from everything vital: class, food (though it is near the good shopping). And in the past year, I've dropped 100 pounds by doing nothing more than walking (uphill! in the snow! both ways!) every day and attacking the salad bar and the stir fry man in the dining hall instead of the grill.

Hope you feel better! And see you in NYC!

[blu_canary]

I have no tale of horrific woe. I have no tale of great success.

I'm fat, but in pretty good shape. Why? I only allow myself to read your books (and other like-minded writers) while I'm on my exercise bike. I'll ride 10--15 miles a day just to find out what happens next.

So that's why I need this advanced copy. I'm running out of quality reading material for the bike! Please don't make me resort to re-reading Grisham until your new book comes out. It'll never give me incentive. There's a distint lack of pearls and snark. And that? Is unacceptable.

[Tristan]

I need to lose weight, but I hate to work out. Mind you that I have a gym membership (brought on by evil good-looking, fit husband), but looking at a piece of gym equipment makes me want to cry. And then throw up. It is my own fault really.
I love to eat.
Moreover, I LOVE BUTTER.
Though I am not obese, I have to quote Bridget Jones, "wobbly bits." Plus I have given birth to two children and breast-fed them so the only positive to the wobbly bits would be great boobs, but mine look like sad, deflated ski jumps. I keep up the struggle with the last 20 pounds that I put on with the last baby and I hope that one day I can fit into single digit pants, but until then I will throw on my fat pants and keeping working up the nerve to make it to the gym. I do sit-ups at home...doesn't that count?

[Jessica]

With fat came fashion, or the lack-there-of. Because I was fat, tall, and awkward in middle school, I needed a way to hide it. Instead of dressing in simple colors and training myself to suck it in, I made wardrobe choices that haunt me to this day. I lived in Florida, and yet insisted on wearing a Chicago Bulls starter jacket (from when they were amazing of course) every day, paired with those overly baggy jnco jeans. I figured if I couldn’t lose it by rollerblading every day the way I did, I’d sweat it off. Instead, I just became the fat, sweaty kid. High school came, I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome, and on top of being fat I was hairy. (The joys of the syndrome…) I was called the “fat, sweaty girl with side-burns.” I started seeing the gynecologist 3 times a year, went on the pill, and joined my track and weightlifting teams. I became involved in marching band as well. I dropped 40 pounds, and yet I still weighed 240 embarrassing pounds. (And yes, I managed to lose the hair as well…thank God.) I went to college, gained the Freshman 30 thanks to the lack of proper food served on campus. I resorted to eating boil-in-bag rice, any kind of cheap microwave food I could buy, and alcohol. Graduated college, moved home and started a job that had me working 14 hour days. Loved the job, loved the people. I lost 20 lbs due to non-stop moving, and not eating anything besides dinner. My seasonal job ended, and I became a teacher. I decided to try the south-beach diet. After one week of mashed cauliflower and too much chicken, I decided I liked fruit (and didn’t really like cottage cheese…at all…even with cinnamon and splenda…) and gave up. Have tried curves, but after 4 years of being a competitive weight lifter, realized that the resistance on the machines is not nearly what it needs to be for me. Instead, I bought resistance bands and did manage to tie myself in knots trying to create my own yoga and pilates moves. I’ve realized that I can look good (thanks to better fashion choices) and feel good (because this fat girl can jump, run, and shake her groove thing with the best of them, without hacking up a lung) without being stick thin. Besides, the only ribs that should be seen are the ones on my plate covered in BBQ sauce.

[amanda]

Hmm after reading these not sure I should enter because I'm going more the motivational route.

For approximately 20 years of my life I was chubby...not fat though I called myself fat nearly every day. I remember yelling at my mom for "shirnking" my jeans, but it wasn't her it was me.

Then my junior year of college a friend asked me to run a half marathon. I agreed because hey I have always been considered athletic, though to be honest I couldn't run a mile. It was painful for the entire first year, but then suddenly it clicked. I was a runner, me, a runner. This new mindset changed my life and I continued running, every year getting a little healthier, stronger and prouder. I've kept off over 30 lbs, run a marathon and feel great. I'm in control of my life, I eat food I love and I look great...it's all possible and it's all in our heads!

[Alyssa W.]

Since you don't feel well, I say we get to the point.

Childhood-started puberty at 9 (!!!) So dreams of gymnastics/cheerleading/dancing flew out the window. Best friend calls me "Miss Piggy" and middle school becomes the "oh that fat girl likes me?"

Adolescence/Early teens-began anorexia however no matter how much I did NOT eat, I couldn't shake the "fat girl" image. Stopped anorexia b/c damnit I was that fucking hungry. (hehe)

High School-started freshman year in size 7, graduated a size 24. Oye.

College-drank lots o beer. Lost weight merely by throwing up beer/pink panty pulldowns (yumm!!!) Down from 24 to 16! Lost financial aide, came home, up to 18. Broke up with b/f for almost a year & punched my mother during a fight. ATE ONCE A WEEK (!!), down to 10! *gasp*

Now-with b/f again, did Weight Watchers after car accident (and gaining back up to a 20) and am now down to 14 and just starting to go back to the gym.

GET LOTS OF REST AND TAKE CARE!

[LisaH]

The fourth grader sat in her seat fidgeting, trying to wish herself out of the classroom. This was the day she hated most. She hated it more than she hated the gymnastics unit in gym class, more than she hated it when her friends decided they wanted to play on the monkey bars at recess, more than she hated waiting to get picked for a team. She even hated it more than when Billy, the high school guy next door, road the bus home from school and called her "dream barge" when they got off the bus. It was weight check day. They lined up outside the classroom and everyone could hear the teacher tell the nurse what number to write down. Her number was always the largest.

The fourth grader dreaded starting junior high. They would have to "dress out" in gym class. Changing clothes in front of other girls, they would see the rolls of fat. If she could just hide in her clothes, they wouldn't see her. She wanted to die. At least weight check day was in the gym coach's office and no one could hear the number. Even though they could see her change clothes, they wouldn't know how fat she really was.

When they had to run laps around the high school gym, she finished when everyone else did, but only did half as many laps as the rest of the class. The fourth grader didn’t step on a scale. When she turned sixteen and took her driver’s test, she didn't know what weight to list on her license. She picked two hundred. She knew it was probably a lie. She put the same number down when she had to order her graduation gown. It was too tight.

When she graduated from college, the fourth grader tried three hundred pounds and the gown fit better.

The scale at her doctor's office had a four hundred pound capacity; it was the only one she could use. A few days before the fourth grader turned thirty, the scale wouldn't balance at maximum capacity. A gastric bypass surgeon told the fourth grader to lose fifty pounds and come back.

She knew she was going to die before she turned forty.

She wanted to buy clothes in regular store. She wanted to ride roller coasters. She wanted to go hiking.

She wanted to live.

Then. Something. Clicked. In. Me.

I face a scale every Saturday morning at Weight Watchers. I've lost around 170 pounds in the past few years. I struggle to keep losing.

I exercise daily. I hike. I've completed five 5k runs.
(I still haven't ridden a roller coaster because I get motion sick).

At thirty-four, the number on the tag inside my clothes is the same as it was when I was in fourth grade. I will be healthier at forty than I was at thirty. I will be healthier at forty than I was in the fourth grade.

[LisaH]

The fourth grader sat in her seat fidgeting, trying to wish herself out of the classroom. This was the day she hated most. She hated it more than she hated the gymnastics unit in gym class, more than she hated it when her friends decided they wanted to play on the monkey bars at recess, more than she hated waiting to get picked for a team. She even hated it more than when Billy, the high school guy next door, road the bus home from school and called her "dream barge" when they got off the bus. It was weight check day. They lined up outside the classroom and everyone could hear the teacher tell the nurse what number to write down. Her number was always the largest.

The fourth grader dreaded starting junior high. They would have to "dress out" in gym class. Changing clothes in front of other girls, they would see the rolls of fat. If she could just hide in her clothes, they wouldn't see her. She wanted to die. At least weight check day was in the gym coach's office and no one could hear the number. Even though they could see her change clothes, they wouldn't know how fat she really was.

When they had to run laps around the high school gym, she finished when everyone else did, but only did half as many laps as the rest of the class. The fourth grader didn’t step on a scale. When she turned sixteen and took her driver’s test, she didn't know what weight to list on her license. She picked two hundred. She knew it was probably a lie. She put the same number down when she had to order her graduation gown. It was too tight.

When she graduated from college, the fourth grader tried three hundred pounds and the gown fit better.

The scale at her doctor's office had a four hundred pound capacity; it was the only one she could use. A few days before the fourth grader turned thirty, the scale wouldn't balance at maximum capacity. A gastric bypass surgeon told the fourth grader to lose fifty pounds and come back.

She knew she was going to die before she turned forty.

She wanted to buy clothes in regular store. She wanted to ride roller coasters. She wanted to go hiking.

She wanted to live.

Then. Something. Clicked. In. Me.

I face a scale every Saturday morning at Weight Watchers. I've lost around 170 pounds in the past few years. I struggle to keep losing.

I exercise daily. I hike. I've completed five 5k runs.
(I still haven't ridden a roller coaster because I get motion sick).

At thirty-four, the number on the tag inside my clothes is the same as it was when I was in fourth grade. I will be healthier at forty than I was at thirty. I will be healthier at forty than I was in the fourth grade.

[Kathy]

“Roland, we have to get healthy. We have to do something about our weight and our cholesterol, or we will be sick, old people taking tons of pills and not be able to play with our grandchildren, (our children were in grade school, I like to plan ahead.) “We are going to start watching our weight, and start walking. We need vitamins and supplements to help us.” I buy vitamins and fish oil capsules, because they are chock full of Omega 3 fatty acids, guaranteed to fix that bad cholesterol, raise the good cholesterol, giving us the healthiest hearts around. It is also important to note here, that I made a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup Pie for the children. There is no need to make them suffer because we made bad food choices and got fat and clogged with cholesterol.
We go for our power walk. Good!! We eat our low fat, not fried, no pizza or cheesy breadsticks with ranch dipping sauce supper. Good for us!! I get out the supplements and hand Roland his fish oil capsules. “I ain’t taking that shit.” He walks off. “OK, fine! Be that way! I will just be healthy by myself! I am only trying to look out for you and your heart!” I take my supplements and two fish oil capsules; I can just feel the Omega 3’s coursing through my veins. I plan tomorrow’s exercise and food schedule.
Thirty minutes later, my stomach is feeling a little full-ish. Not horrible, just a little indigestion. “It’s all that leafy green food. It will take some time for my system to adjust to this new way of eating.”
“Brrrruuupppp.” Oh no. No, no, no. “Brrruuuuuuuuuuppppppp.” The Fulton Street Fish Market has come to life, in my mouth.
I run to the bathroom, brush my teeth, my tongue, my cheeks, and gums, everything I can brush. “Brrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuppppppppp.” It is getting worse. Now the same voice that advised me to buy the fish oil capsules speaks again. “These are fumes emanating from your stomach, much like onion breath.”
A HA!!!! I know EXACTLY what to do to stop this! I need to cover up the fish oil in my stomach, and then the fumes can’t rise with the burping! What would be good???!!?? Reeses’ Peanut Butter Cup Pie! That will do it! I run to the frig, and eat half the pie. Now I am really full-ish (fool-ish??), but the fish oil is covered. I am confident that my next burp will be a lovely peanut butter cup pie burp.
“Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrruuuuuuuuuuuuuuppppppppppppppppppppppp.” There is a fish smeared with peanut butter in my mouth.
I spend the rest of the night laying on my right side, (“When tummy is upset, lay on your right side to keep the bad juices from coming up, says the voice.”) breathing through my mouth, trying to keep from activating any taste buds.
Weight was not lost this time. Husband was kind. And I found Omega 3 fatty acids in walnuts.

[Danielle]

I've been fat since I was a kid. I remember my friends running around in their bikinis when I was a 10 or 12, and me swimming in my grandmother-like large floral print one piece with matching old lady skirt to hide my ever expanding pooch.

At the age of 17 I managed to reach 226 pounds, after countless evenings of pizza, soda, and fast food.

My ultimate humiliation came when I would sneak to the local Burger King every morning before first period and order 2 large size breakfast meals with 2 different drinks, in hopes of tricking the Burger King staff into thinking they weren't both for me. Clever I know! Haha.

The final straw came one night when I decided to take a trip to the grocery store for a snack. Instead of buying a single piece of cake I bought a huge birthday cake, I also purchased a card, and a 1/2 gallon of ice cream, pretending I was going to a party when really it was because my over-eating was so out of control and I wanted cake.

I decided (after eating 1/2 of the sheet cake of course!) that something had to be done. I joined Weight Watchers online the next day and slowly but surely made my way down on the scales. Today at the age of 24 I weigh in at 167, not the ideal weight, but I feel its much better then it was, and I am still, to this day, working through my food issues.

I feel your pain.

[Suzanne]

2 words: Hurricane Katrina.

So I am stressed, I can't eat, I can't drink. I don't know if everything I own is a big gumbo, or if everything is going to be okay. I drop 20 lbs (down to 125 on my 5'5" frame) in 2 weeks. Buy all new clothes, bc everything is in my city where they won't let me go to retrieve them. The clothes are way smaller than I am used to- hell, I look hot. Then I realize everything is going to be ok. I start sleeping, eating, and yes, drinking. Copious amounts in celebration of returning to my beloved New Orleans. 2.5 years later the 20 lbs + is back and I have all these clothes I can't wear until another disaster strikes...

[Amanda]

As was the case with someone up thread, my weight loss story also starts with the runt of the litter fraternity guy. Despite the fact that I walked in on him screwing the hair-washer chick from our mall beauty salon, a vortex of low self-esteem (ok, and a steady supply of weed) compelled me to stay with him throughout my college years.

This was the sort of boy whose idea of a good time was having me read Penthouse Forum aloud during car trips. The type of man who felt my decorating (ne, cleaning his apartment and carefully cataloguing his collection of Oui magazines) for Canada Day was a God given right. The sort of guy who felt he deserved a skinny girlfriend. After an unfortunate incident where my bikini-based muffin top was on full display, he suggested I lose some weight.

So I went to the gym, managed to politely decline when he wanted a bucket of wings for dinner. Nothing happened. I started popping over the counter fat burners (particularly good with Jell-O shots). Still, nothing. Finally I decided – in my post-adolescent wisdom – that it was time to stop eating completely. I took a quick browse of my parents' medicine cabinet and ended up taking Phentremine and then Darvocet, for a little extra buzz to get me through sorority rush week.

The plan was working! I wasn’t eating! I was wearing my newly baggy cowboy costume, singing songs from the “Best Little Whorehouse in Texas” to dazed and confused 18 year old girls! Everyone thought that I looked amazing! Look at me twirl around the bales of hay, talking about sisterhood and how wonderful life is when you’re sharing it with your closet friends! The boyfriend was parading me around like I was some blue ribbon hog. I was loving life. No food and pain killers may have turned me into a regular Liz Taylor, but suddenly I was looking at life through rose colored glasses.

Until I passed cold out during our sorority’s candle ceremony. I nearly set the house on fire. I did manage to claim an oriental rug and the leg of a coffee table.

And, as you might expect, I got kicked out of said sorority (a blaze of glory as I later learned to joke).

With the money I saved on dues, I bought food and discovered SPANX. I dumped the boy and lived happily ever after.

[Rachel]

Was at least 10 lbs overweight. Got pregnant (yay!) Gained 40lbs, due in no small part to regular consumption of homemade mac n' cheese from local family-run deli (boo!)
Had adorable daughter (yay!) Adorable daughter did not weigh 40lbs at birth (both yay and boo)
came home from hospital, got no sleep, took care of adorable daughter for first several months (lost 23 lbs).
Sat on butt singing nursery rhymes to adorable daughter, watching re-runs of Crossing Jordan (0 lbs)
Mother suggests low carb diet. Ongoing arguments re: same (0 lbs)
Joined Weight Watchers. (Darth Vader music)
Started going to gym and letting adorable daughter hang out in gym daycare for an hour.
Actually lost 16 lbs in 1 year.
Got lead in community theater production, endured tech week (4 lbs).
Still need to lose another 10 lbs or so, but can now wear skinny jeans.
If decide to get pregnant again, will remember to lay off the mac n'cheese.

[Cathy D.]

Three years ago, when I was fat, every day felt like a "fat day," as almost all females have.

Then, when I started to lose weight, every day became a "thin day" -- even I, with prejudiced eyes, could see such a difference, that for a couple of years, I never felt fat.

Then I readjusted to myself, and last fall started having them again. Fat days. And I did not like those days.

Because the mirror told me, and the fit of my clothes, that there was no reason to feel "fat" -- I was not much different on a "fat" day than on an "okay" day. But my brain wasn't buying it.

So I started working on myself. And I remembered a tactic I had back in the really fat days: the matter of perspective.

When I was feeling particularly voluminous, I'd think about the universe. All the big unimaginable hugeness of it. The vastness of our galaxy, the distance to the stars, the idea of infinity. When I think about it really hard, I feel a little unbalanced, as if I'm trying to understand a concept that humans are not meant to understand. Yet we try.

And the moment I felt precariously on the verge of either 1) understanding or 2) insanity, I'd come back to earth--I'd think about myself. And how big I was--or wasn't. And I'd find myself feeling very, very small. I didn't feel like Horton. I felt like the Who.

For awhile, anyway.

Originally a blog post.)

[Yvonne]

Twelve years ago I joined WW and worked off 50 pounds! I felt great and thought I looked terrific. That summer I attended our family reunion. I hadn't seen my Mom in six months and I was excited to show off my new body. When I got out of the car, she said "well, another 10 more pounds and I think you'll be fine" Crushed in an instant. Those words still sting...but I don't give a shit about my weight anymore.

[janell]

in the early 2000s (perhaps in the same year that some pushy magazine peddler disguised as church youth raising support for missions work guilted me into buying a subscription of SELF), inspired by images of rock hard a55s, i decided to get creative with my exercise habits. i set out to incorporate some basic plyometric moves into my daily hygiene routine. i just knew that my name could become synonymous with hyg-ometrics... or maybe plyo-gienes. think windsor pilates, but with cooler infomercials set to the grey's soundtrack. oh la la! (god i love infomercials- who doesn't want to rock the magic bullet?!?) (and god i love grey's! who doesn't want to rock mcdreamy?!?)

first things first, i tried to integrate exploding lunges and tooth brushing. mistake one. i fall over. i unfortunately misplace equilibrium when toothbrush is inserted in mouth. mistake two. i do not learn from mistake one. i proceed to expand my plyo-giene repertoire and attempt extended squats in shower... obviously i fall over again. i fall over repeatedly. and bruise repeatedly (i have thin blood :)

yes, in retrospect i realize that this does not sound like a great idea you self-righteous a55s. i do get that. in my defense i did not make mistakes three, four or five which would most likely involve qtips, soccer cones and more falling.

AND in case you were wondering, falling down naked in the shower IS unbelievably awkward and quite difficult to explain to roommates (even with history of being 'the quirky one').

i no longer advocate exercise-hygiene integration. nor do i harbor fantasies of becoming the face of plyo-giene nor hyg-ometrics in my own infomercial.

i do however want chuck norris to call me up when christie mchottie gets tired of peddling the total gym. that shit looks like fun!

and i do want the book. can't wait!

pick me. choose me. love me.
j

[Kelsey]

Growing up, I was always chunkier then the other kids. I was never the popular girl, but I was never without a friend to hang out with. When I hit middle school, my mom took me aside and told me how nasty kids could be. I was shocked and scared. Until that moment my mom took me aside, I didn’t think I was any different. At 200 pounds, I was happy.

High School was the same. I had friends in all the cliques. At almost 300 pounds, size 26/28 3x/4x, I had cheerleader friends, artsy friends, jock friends, I just had friends.

In 2005, at the age of 16 going on 17, I was diagnosed with PCOS (Polycystic ovary syndrome). All of a sudden I was thrust into a world of diets and pills. Blood Pressure and Weight checks every 2 weeks.

I learned that my grandmother, was the cause of my eating. She is a very stressful woman, always rushing and wanting things done just right and this time, and she projected her stress onto others, and I, am a stress eater
My mother though, was a very supportive woman at this time, she has and is always supportive of what ever I do. She would go for walks, make sure I take my medicine, and be with me when I went to the doctors.

After about 2 months of seeing my doctor, taking my pills we realized it wasn’t working. So I was sent to a nutritionist. I can’t tell you how many diets we tried, but one finally started working. Slim Fast. We where given a bunch of coupons that would let us get boxes for like 10cents each.

But after a while, we couldn’t afford me going to the doctors that much, so it was left behind. I gained back the little weight I lost, and I got bigger.

Since then, I’ve stayed at my current weight of around 300lbs. I’m still active and I don’t eat a lot, but I don’t loose weight.

This recent January, it was New Years clothes shopping time. I needed a new pair of jeans desperately. Going into Torrid I found all these cute pairs of jeans. I was so excited. Grabbing 3-4 pairs, I went into the dressing room, and tried them on. At least, I tried to try them on
After half an hour and about 20 pairs of jeans. I was sweaty, tired and pissed. None of them fit. I sat in that room, surrounded by discarded jeans, and cried.

Leaving the store defeated, I vowed to get my ass in shape. I’ve become a stay at home mom to my 2 siblings, so cleaning the house keeps me busy. And just recently, I started back on Slim Fast.

After dieting for 10 years, and reading all the books, I’m ready to make this one work. My goal is 25lbs by August. Wish me luck.

[Amy]

Losing weight... well, working out 3X a week for 30-60 minutes at medium intensity, seriously. and then eating 1/2 of what you usually do is what knocks my ass down to my skinny size 6-8 body. Right now am a 10-12, down from 12-14 using the method described above.

Deceptively simple? Perhaps. But it works. And I still eat ice cream w chocolate sauce. Just, you know, 1/2 the serving as pre-diet. 4" off waist so far, my friend.

It works.

:) Can't wait to read the new book and to finish writing my book!

[Erin]

Dilemma...If one is fat, but does not have a diet story are they still eligible? How about a diet story in the future? I do plan on losing the weight. I just prefer to put it off until tomorrow. I am quite like Scarlett O'Hara that way, and do not want to bother myself with negatives at the moment. After reading most of the posted comments before mine, it seems that I should have a good story, in order to win or tell the world exactly how fat I am. Well, I will not stoop to this level--okay, for the prize I will tell that I am no longer at a desirable weight, nor am I anywhere near my goal weight. But, I am splendid!

[Cyndi]

I'll keep this short because it's going to take you forever to get through all these.

1985 - fat kid
1994 - fat teen (insert esteem-lowering jokes here...I was also in drama, band, and advanced calculus)
1998 - fat college student (still in band and calculus - awesome!)
2003 - bff is getting married, MOH is complaining that dresses do not come in a zero - egads!
2007 - beings FT work as a WW Leader after losing 85 pounds

My weight-loss website is linked, if anyone is interested in the full version.

[Jennifer from Tempe]

If you're looking for some quality self abuse, take the exercise class I did last night.

Innocently titled 20/20/20, this class involves 20 minutes of cardio, 20 minutes of toning and 20 minutes of core training. I figured, Hey, I can do 20 minutes of anything! And since it was held at the local park district, I stupidly assumed that it wouldn't be too bad.

Well, after I met my perky instructor (i.e., The Nazi) Maria, I realized how my assumptions may very well kill me.

She started us off with the cardio. Now, keep in mind, the woman standing in front of me was probably about 60 and there were people of all sizes and ages. But that didn't stop Maria from bringing her A game. Well, I THINK it was her A game, but I'm actually not clear on what happened after the first five minutes because I blacked out. The goal was to quickly get your heart rate up - but it didn't work for me because my heart instantly exploded, popped out of my body and skidded halfway across the shiny gym floor before coming to a stop in front of one of the two men in the class. Luckily, his heart had already burst out of his body as well, so he didn't mind, as he was passed out on his mat. And The Nazi DIDN'T EVEN BREAK A SWEAT. Nor did the 60-year-old. Go figure.

I finally came to when we started on the toning section of the workout. The only good thing about this part was the entertainment value. We used long rubber bands in varying colors (each color offered different tension. I selected an imaginary one, because I don't need any more tension in my life.) And The Nazi didn't tell anyone what the levels were, nor how to properly use them. So as we were going through the 10 different ways to pull a muscle, people were dropping like flies. Even better, as the 20 minutes passed, you would hear SNAP and then "Ow!" throughout the room. Turns out the bands were a little old, and that, combined with our inexperience with using them, meant that the bands were snapping mid pull and hitting people in the face. Great fun!

I must say that my favorite part was the core training section. That's probably because we got to lay down for most of it. If I could figure out a way to do cardio without getting up or getting naked, I would. It was just too bad that every part of my body was shaking from the previous 40 minutes of exertion, so my core work looked more like a seizure than the smooth fluid movements The Nazi was expecting.

After it was all over, The Nazi had the gall to suggest that we eat something when we get home "Have some trail mix, cottage cheese or some yogurt. I'm going to have some delicious salmon myself." Look lady - two people died in your class tonight - I'm going home and eating half a pie and then wash it down with a milk shake. Salmon, my ass.

And this was THE FIRST CLASS. Only nine more to go. I can't wait.

[TX Poppet]

Sometimes I think it's ironic that I am the only female in a family of four daughters that has not been hospitalized repeatedly for anorexia/bulemia complications, but I am the one with a "weight problem". Looking forward to seeing you in Dallas. I'll be the one in pearls and the strongest girdle known to man!

[Incoherently Lucid]

I have been doing this diet, the alli diet. I started it about a month ago and have lost at least 5 lbs which is awesome. Most of the weight loss is the plan you go on, no more than 1600 calories a day and no more than 54 grams of fat a day. I take an alli pill before each meal that has fat in it and that is supposed to make the fat go through my ass instead of sticking to it. I have talked to a few women who have had HORRIBLE and NASTY side effects if they ate too much fat after taking the pill. I mean, some of the listed side effects are...ehem, warning, the following quote may be graphic… “bowel changes may occur if you eat too much fat. You may get:
*gas with oily spotting
*loose stools
*more frequent stools that may be hard to control.”

Ok, who else couldn’t stop laughing after they read, “gas with oily spotting”? I actually read it in my head as… “greasy farts”. And I’m not even a guy.

Anyway, back to the story…I’ve gotten some advice from woman that have experienced these side effects, don’t eat a lot of fat, always know where the bathroom is and no matter what, do not where white pants.

Up until tonight, I have had no issues except for a little extra gas, and honestly my body is starting to do that all by itself now, so no biggie. I have been very, very careful about my fat intake. Then, tonight I took a pill, went into the kitchen, grabbed a piece of fried fried fried chicken, some buttery potatoes and a rice krispie treat. I don’t even know what made me do it. Seriously, did I not read the warnings? Did I not listen to my trusted, smelly, oily friends?

Turns out I used poor judgment, not the first time for that, or the last. At least I wasn’t wearing white pants. I spent pretty much the whole night on the toilet.

The bathroom fan will never be the same again.

[margalit]

My story starts when I was hitting puberty. I started very early. By the time I was 12 I was 5'9" tall, wore a "c" cup, and had myself a nice curvy body. I have a very large frame (obviously) and I weighed about 150 lbs. My parents, who are insane, thought I was fat. I was not fat. I was FINE. Big, but fine. So they enforced a diet. I was NOT ALLOWED in the kitchen without an adult. Really. And my father weighed me every single Sat morning, keeping records for years in the top drawer of his dresser. The routine was for him to wake me up, and then I would have to get on his doctor's scale in my underwear (always comfy for a teen to be 1/2 naked in front of her father) where he would weigh me. If I gained 1/4 lb, I was punished. PUNISHED. My food was restricted. I wasn't allowed to eat anything unsupervised. They took away all my babysitting money so I couldn't spend it on food.

So, can you guess what happened when I left home? I ate myself silly. I gained about 50 lbs in a year. And I kept gaining and gaining and gaining until I was really really fat, because I needed to live out their fears.

Now, I'm losing the weight. I'm down 70+ lbs, I'm doing it slowly and carefully by changing my eating habits and not dieting. It's working for me, and I feel better about myself than I have in years!

[WannabeJane]

Food Shamed in Bikram.

I'm sweating my ass off hot yoga class today and my little 'yogini' instructor was being a bit chatty between asanas. She was telling the class about some of the things she has learned during this 'marvelous nutritional workshop' she has been participating in at the studio.

She was sharing that what she thought to be a good breakfast routine for her pre-yoga practices (a bowl of steel cut oatmeal and a Liter or so of water) was actually 'counter-productive' as the oatmeal takes at least an hour and a half to digest and the water takes a good 30 minutes to work it's way into your system. Alas…her practice was actually *suffering* through the choices she was making.

Hmmm. [I reflect while standing there in tree pose listening to her lament]

So does this means the triple, full fat latte and old fashioned chocolate doughnut I downed just a few minutes before hitting class is a BAD thing?

Damn…namaste la vista, baby.

[QQueen]

This isn't my diet drama but my college roommates. Her parents were always very image/body/class conscious and felt that how you looked represented who you were (and by association how good your parents were). I'd never had weight issues (not then at least, now is another story but I've made peace with it for today). As a guileless freshman I ended up with a roommate who'd moved to the dorms from a sorority because of her wanton ways, drinking binges and not "freshman 15" but rather "freshman FIFTY". Christmas rolls around and after a knock on the door I had signed for a crate of grapefruit, a gift card for SHAPE magazine and a note stating that "we were sorry that you ruined our Thanksgiving in Hawaii by being so overweight." The irony of all this is my old college roommate is now a repeat triathlon finisher and has the body of a 20-year old – she looks great, she did it for herself and best yet forgave her parents their selfishness years ago.

[HollyGoLightly]

Best/Worst diet tale? Hmmm...so many to choose from. I think I will go with my most humiliating one. Back in 2001, when my son was 3 months old, I decided to try this weight loss doctor I had heard people talking about. He puts you on a 750 calorie a day diet (no, I'm not joking), gives you a prescription appetite suppressant, fat blocker, and sugar blocker. So basically you are starving yourself. Well, anyway, I lose 30 lbs down to 150. Fast forward 4 years later after I have gone back to school, not made any time for myself and gained all of that weight plus some (like an extra 25 on top of that 30). I decide to go back to this doctor to get the weight off really fast. Keep in mind he is somewhere in his mid-70s and not even a cute old man. I sit down with him in his office and he proceeds to review my chart. He looks at me at my current weight and my chart at what I was the last time I was there. He was rendered speechless except for the "WOW!" that would periodically escape his mouth. "You lost 30 lbs., down to 150, and now you are 198. WOW! Boy, you really gained some weight." Yeah, wow, thanks alot old man. You really know how to make a girl feel good about herself. Well, anyway, if you must know the ending to this story. I lost about 35 lbs. on that particular episode of crash dieting, gained all of it plus another 15 back and have currently started a new diet today! Oh and did I mention that I probably would have lost more and would have kept coming to do the maintenance part of the program but the doctor kept practically hitting on me and getting all up in my personal space. Yeah, nice.

[Denise]

Although I know I should want to lose weight, I just can't bring myself to do it. Every time I have to be a bridesmaid and pay more for a plus size dress (so not fair!) I tell myself, ok this is it. But I never change! As long as I still fit in clothes from my favorite stores (NY&CO and Target), I tell myself I am doing fine.

But my self-esteem is not always as high as I think it is. In college I was at my heaviest (big surprise right?) but didn't actually know that until I saw pictures! The only thing I could actually see myself giving up was pop (soda for those Non-Chicagoans) so I went for that! Unfortunately giving up your 5 pop a day habit (regular, not diet) while taking a full load of classes and writing a thesis is a really bad idea.

It worked though! I lost almost 30lbs from giving up pop but some of that probably was also due to the fact that my crippling headaches barely allowed me to open my eyes and the fridge light was enough to make me cry.

I made it until Christmas that year without another pop and then started up again and haven't stepped on a scale consistently since. It's not worth it to me to do that to myself again. When I can no longer fit in dresses from Von Maur or pants from NY&CO, I may rethink my decision.

Until then, I'll be the girl getting screwed paying for ugly bridesmaids dresses! And did you know if you are tall and fat your dress will probably cost $100 more than the size 8 girls dress?

[Ericka]

For my 21st birthday I felt it was necessary to take control of my life and lose weight. I dragged my fat ass to the gym one afternoon and got “the tour”. After the height, weight, body mass index, and overall use of equipment talk later, I began a brisk walk on the treadmill. Staring at everyone around me I realized I was surrounded by obese women, old men, and the occasional but rare skinny bitch and hot guy staring at themselves in the mirrors while I’m trying my hardest to get the treadmill in front of the divided mirror so I look skinnier.

Two days later I was trying out the elliptical when a trainer approached me. He urged me to sign up for a training session because “procrastinators never prosper”. I signed up for the next morning feeling as if I had nothing to lose.

I got there early and ready to go. I was told to start running and my trainer will join me shortly. I’m not a morning person, and apparently neither was my trainer because he had the worst smelling morning breath I ever smelled in my entire life. I almost tripped from losing my breath once he smiled and said over annunciated “Hey! Looking good”. I quietly continued with my training session teaching myself how to hold my breath for long periods of time while he was talking.

Afterwards I headed to the sauna, with my clothes on I might add, because the sign clearly states that no one was permitted inside without at least a towel. I step inside to the steamy room and get comfy in the corner. I was alone when an older women walked in eating an apple. As the woman plopped her wrinkly ass next to mine, she dropped her towel to the floor. We were the only two people in a sauna that can seat 10 and she had to sit her wrinkly, naked ass down so close to mine I could feel her skin as she was chomping on her apple.

I went home and ate healthy foods anxious to return to the gym the following day. I went to bed early and woke up to my cell phone playing “Buttons” by The Pussycat Dolls. As I turned over to get the phone, I fell out of my bed onto the floor. I was in so much pain I couldn’t move. I was able to reach for the phone and answer; it was smelly trainer. He started rattling on about how great the workout was and the prices for the weekly sessions. In an instant I looked at myself lying half on the floor, half in my bed, and began thinking about his breath and the body of the 65 year old woman. I hung up on my trainer, fell back asleep, and cancelled my membership 2 days later, never to return to the gym again.

[Shelley]

About 15 years ago, I lost 85 pounds, and all I did was WALK. I love food, I will never diet. But I started walking, and built up my stamina to walk more and more. I lost the weight and felt great. Of course, that was back when I had TIME. Now I am married, with children, and my priorities are different, and I again struggle with my weight. I wish I were more fit, but I don't beat myself up over it. I try to focus on my positives, such as being a good mom. I know someday I will be more fit again when I make it a priority. Until then, I empathize with what others like myself go through in that struggle. I would start walking again for exercise, but you will never see me in an aerobics class, or doing "buddy workouts". I need to keep my OWN pace, and I am not willing to have a heart attack trying to keep up with someone else. My ass was not built for speed--and "The Tortoise and the Hare" just happens to be my favorite story...right up there with "The Little Engine that Could". One day we will prevail--hang in there sisters!!

[Anna]

1. Sick of counting "points"
2. Sicker of going to Applebees because they have a WW menu
3. Sickest of all these women who wrote "hate self" just because they're fat!

I do not hate self...love self, hate delicious big mac.

[Bernice]

My first semester in college I was absolutely terrified of gaining the freshman fifteen so I came up with a plan that would allow me to drink the booze without gaining all the calories from those wonderful vodka cranberries. I decided that I would eat less, thus I could get drunk faster and not have added excess calories to my daily diet. Well, my malnutrition combined with my job as a swim instructor for three year olds in a freezing ass pool gave me a nasty sinus infection that left me throwing up and stuck in bed for about two weeks. I ended up losing ten pounds which made the sinus infection almost worth it.

The best part of it all was my mother's response. I have one of those mothers that loves telling me how my clothes are so weird and how I really shouldn't eat that last piece of cake because it will go straight to my hips. Well I sent her some pictures from my fall break weekend and she called asking, "How did you lose so much weight? I've been trying a new diet for weeks and I'm seeing no results."

Me: I got really sick remember Mom. Sinus infection? I couldn't keep food down for days.
Mom: Ugh. You're so lucky. How much weight did you lose?
Me: Ten, fifteen pounds.
Mom: Good job. Keep it up!

[Susan]

I'm one of those girls who always had a bad self-image. I have a round face, so I always thought that I was fat - no matter what my weight (in high school, I was 5'9" and 135# - and still thought I was huge - which, to be fair, I was compared to my teammates).

Nevertheless, I learned to like who I was as a person and went about living my happy life - got married, got pregnant, and had a baby. It was at this point - after gaining 60 pounds during my pregnancy - that I finally decided that I needed to lose weight. I did my own take of Weight Watchers, and committed to walking and eventually to running every other day (don't be impressed - it wasn't even a mile). Within two years, I had lost over 80 pounds and dropped more than 5 sizes! Best yet? I am still slowly dropping weight. Now? I am proud of myself inside and out, and while I am not a stick, I am plenty skinny for my height, and feel I am pretty enough just the way I am - for the first time in my life.

[Patti_Mayo]

Skinny girl gets married...has four kids (one set of twins) in ten years later and weights almost a hundred pounds more than she did when met her hunnie....tries to work her ass off to eat healthy and get down even five pounds...spouse sabotages dieting efforts by buying 6 containers of ice cream and refusing to go to mother in laws to pick up exercise bike...

dislikes current body image and will one day get off her fat ass and actually do something about it, but is currently enjoying comments from other Jen Fans while eating a Cadbury Fruit and Nut Bar...glad to hear she isn' the only one struggling...