Biggest Loser | BulgingButtons

Did you catch The Biggest Loser last night? It was makeover week. The week where the remaining contestants, some of whom have lost over 100 pounds, get a professional makeover and see themselves in a new light. Tim Gunn of Project Runway does the wardrobe, and puts in his two cents about how fabulous everyone is, and some big name hair guy oversees color and cut. At the end of it all these folks looked fantastic, and they got to show off their new looks to their happy families.

Now I have to say, this is a fine looking group of people to begin with. The network chose them carefully, and they didn’t pick anyone who wasn’t handsome or pretty, even with the extra weight. They had plenty to work with, if the casting call I attended a while back was any indication. Hundreds of people wait for hours just to be glanced at for a moment at these calls. People also submit videos of themselves pleading their cases. Yes, there are a lot of fat people willing to sweat it out in front of a national audience. These are the ones who were picked and managed to stick around long enough to make it to makeover week. Good for them. It isn’t easy.

I would love to have my own makeover week. I would love to have a day when I grab some hot outfit off a rack in a size I haven’t seen since high school or earlier, and look in the mirror astounded. I would love some top notch stylist to study my features and hair and design a style that brings out the best in both. I would love to see a new version of the old me. But the thing is, those contestants earned that makeover day. They didn’t just stroll in with a credit card and buy it. They earned it with workout after workout, fruits and vegetables, sweat and tears. Good for them.

I hope to earn my makeover day sometime in the not so distant future. I want to feel that I deserve it too.

I am the girl with the Oreo habit. Ok, not a girl anymore, a full-fledged middle aged woman. I’m much too old to have an Oreo habit. But really it’s not an actual Oreo habit, it’s a sweet habit. No, that’s not even it. It’s a food habit. And it’s more than a habit, it’s an all out obsession. There, I said it. Will that make it go away? Of course not. I wish it were that simple. A public declaration, a little shaming and humiliation, a few minutes of feeling bad, then presto change-o… no more problem! I would do it. I really would. You want me to wear a sign for a day?Put it on the blog? Confess my sins to a talk show host? Fine.

I tried out for the Biggest Loser. I put on a dress that both made me look cute and made me look fat. I did my hair and make up , to the best of my ability, then toddled off to a local mall with folding chairs and my sweet boyfriend (who LOVES a big woman, lucky for me). I sat in line for hours, filling out forms and chatting with other fat women. Then I got my chance. I filed into the private space along with about a dozen other fat people and sat at the table with a giant grin pasted across my face. “Look at me! I’m fat! I have personality! Pick me, pick me!” But they didn’t. Secretly I was relieved. After all, I have a kid and a dog and a boyfriend and a job and a life. How could I jet off to “the ranch” to reinvent myself? And deep down the bigger question, how could I possibly face the humiliation of trying to do it on national t.v.?

I was terrified that they might pick me. After all, I had plenty to lose, I’m reasonably cute, and I’m pretty articulate. I reasoned that they didn’t want someone who would just cry and mumble the whole time. Not that I wouldn’t cry. I’m sure I would cry buckets. In fact, I had already decided that Jillian and Bob were too intense for me, so I would HAVE to be on Dolvett’s team. Do you think they take requests?

Anyway, that was over a year ago, and America managed another whole season of Biggest Loser without me. I didn’t watch. Well, not much anyway. I tend to feel too guilty. I much prefer Extreme Weightloss. One episode and it’s over. Besides, I like the one on one approach, and who could possibly resist Chris Powell? With him training me I would have to succeed, right? Maybe it’s time for another try out.