They say laughter is the best medicine, but I think it makes a pretty damned effective weight-loss aid as well.What we’re doing is hard work, and the seriousness of the uphill climb we’re undertaking can sometimes get us down.
But you can lose those pounds without losing your sense of humor, can break through your weight-loss goals and still crack a smile.
I asked some of the funny folks I know to chime in with their silly stories about their stalemates and setbacks, their falling and failing.
Voltaire said “God is a comedian, playing to an audience too afraid to laugh.”
Don’t be scared to yuk it up a little during this journey of yours, no matter how interminable and irritating it may seem at times.
Sometimes you just gotta laugh to keep on dieting.
Sally Costa from Mais Fica (More For Me):
One day, I had to get a little more “dressed up” than usual. And because I was wearing a dress, this situation included pouring myself into the Spanx (A.K.A. The Body Sausage). Overall, I was feeling waaay cool and pretty confident because I had lost twenty-five pounds on Weight Watchers. I wasn't to goal---yet, but I was feeling HOT, if I do say so myself. So anyway, there I am, hair perfectly coiffed, fully made-up with my red lipstick perfectly applied. And I? AM WRESTLING SAID BODY SAUSAGE OVER MY THIGHS (Lord.Have.Mercy! I can't breathe!) and s-t-r-u-g-g-l-i-n-g to pull it up over my arse, when SUDDENLY, the frickin’ sausage casing snaps out of my right hand as I am yanking it up over my torso and BAM! I punched myself in the face! And the worst thing is, I didn't just punch myself in the face! I punched myself in the mouth...and I smeared all of my lipstick UP MY FACE, UNDER MY NOSE, AND ALL OVER MY RIGHT CHEEK. I looked like a cheap floozy who'd been making out with some horny dude in the back seat of a 1987 Camaro (the year I graduated from high school----ah...the memories....). Seriously. Needless to say, my self-imposed hotness? Shot.To.Crap. And the next morning, my “hot mess” self was back on the treadmill because I realized that I am–and will always be–a work in progress.
GunDiva from Just Another Perfect Day:
A few years ago, I was working out with a personal trainer. This guy was gorgeous. And I mean gorgeous.
I hated him. With every fiber of my being I hated that gorgeous a**hat. Which, I guess, means that he was doing his job.
One day, about a week into me being tortured by him (I mean, receiving his expertise as a trainer), we'd been working on arms pretty heavily. By the time we were done, I couldn't lift my arms; they were Jell-O. And not the hard-set stuff, the liquidy warm Jell-O.
We moved onto the fitball to do some ab work. I was *thrilled* because it meant that my poor Jell-O arms would get a break. Never in my life have I been so happy to work on my abs. Never.
I finished up on the fitball and he said, “Okay, let's move to the mat and do some floor work.”
“No problem”, I thought, “I'll just roll right off the fitball onto the mat.”
I forgot to check with my Jell-O arms before I made that decision. I rolled to my right, off of the fitball, and my Jell-O arms betrayed me. I literally rolled off of the fitball right smack-dab onto my face on the mat. I told my arms to move to help break the fall. They just laughed at me and let me fall.
Steve at 265 And Falling:
A few years go I saw an ad in one of those Sunday newspaper inserts for Apple Cider Vinegar pills, which were being touted as a wonderful all natural thing that can help weight loss. I was intrigued, but I didn't see the point in buying pills when we actually had Apple Cider Vinegar in the house. So right then and there, I filled a small shotglass with vinegar, and downed it.
OHMYGODWHYINTHEF*CKDIDIJUSTDOTHAT?! It tasted horrible (and the taste lingered!) and seriously burned like a MFer.
I never did it again, but did I learn my lesson? HAHAHA...no. A few years later I read somewhere that hot sauce can have the same effect on your appetite, and can help boost your metabolism. Sure, you can put hot sauce on your food...but if you take it straight the effects will be greater, right?
Lather, rinse, repeat: OHMYGODWHYINTHEF*CKDIDIJUSTDOTHAT?!
To their credit, both things did kill my appetite for a few hours, but I'm assuming they probably killed my esophageal track too, so I wouldn't recommend it. Weight loss FAIL.
Tricia from Fight Fat Phobia:
When I lost my last job, which was as casual as they come, I was in dire need of some “interview” clothes. I rushed out to Catherine’s, last paycheck in hand, and hastily bought two pairs of the biggest work slacks they had in stock. They just BARELY fit, but enough for me to cover with a long blouse and get out there and find some work! Well, it turned out to be a rather long unemployment phase. Nothing drastic, but at least 4-5 months. Those months were full of Weight Watcher-y goodness and I had lost about 50 pounds from diet, exercise and being too broke to buy junk food. Finally I landed a job! It’s the one I still have now, actually. But I was REALLY broke and I did NOT have money for new fancy work pants. Maybe you can see where this is going... ANYWAY, fast forward about a week and I was in the lunchroom getting a snack and some water on my break. I stopped at a table to converse with the “cool” girl in E-Banking that I was dutifully trying to turn into my new best friend. I walked out, giant water cup (no lid) in one hand, sliced apple in the other and it happened. Pants…on the ground. I mean, full force of gravity, whoomp-there-it-is pants.on.ground. Like any reasonable person, I froze. My hands were full and my brain was dead so there would be no quick recovery here. I locked eyes with the E-Banker, sitting there mouth open staring at me in my ratty-ass Girdle (yes, some people still wear these.) As I stood there wishing for instant death while surely she wished for blindness, I did the totally smart thing to do when you want to NOT draw attention to yourself: drop your giant cup-o-water thus creating a hallway tsunami. Sure, most people might drop the apple, but then against, most people would probably wear a belt…what’s your point? I guess I’m lucky no one else really saw and that girl didn’t turn out to be much of a squealer, thank goodness. About 800 paper towels and a bottle of Xanax later, it was like it never happened! Since that day, I’ve been working hard to gain back about 60 pounds so I never have to worry about my pants falling down again! Boy, I sure showed those pants who’s boss! Oh wait…
Josie at Yum Yucky:
STAIR CLIMBING IS A B!TCH
I did not plan to exercise, but my story ends in uber-exercising, so it totally counts.
It was 1996. I was young, dumb, and broke.
But ohhh! It was also a beautiful day, so I headed out of the door of my 3rd floor abode at Ghetto Apartments to go wash my car.
I scrounged up $3 in quarters, because at the self-serve, $3 is all you need to get the squirter-hose to activate. Too bad I didn't realize I'd have to scrub and rinse at the speed of light to make that $3 last.
The squirter-hose stopped operating with my car in full suds. Time's up! Insert more coins if you want a rinse. But I had none.
My car was black, but it looked completely white from being heavily soaked in suds. People started to stare, and I'm embarrassed now, so I quick jump in my car and drive home. Suds are flying all over the road and hitting peoples' windshields. I'm crouching low in the seat so no one can see that it's me.
Then I finally arrive back at Ghetto Apartments (I hated that damn place). I grabbed a bucket from house, then trekked up and down those three flights of stairs about 15 times until the car was fully rinsed.
See, I told ya there would be exercise. Stair climbing is a b!tch when you've got a pail of water in your hand and a crowd of neighbors watching.
I burned 6,187 calories that day. Mostly from embarrassment.
Ryan at No More Bacon:
Have you ever been in so much pain you were willing to sacrifice your future children for some much needed relief?
I have. And it came after an incredibly intense workout. I think during the course of whatever acrobatic moves my trainer subjected me to (that really no fat guy should do) I pulled literally all 90,000,000 muscles in my body (90,000,000 was the estimated number I came up with because I heard it takes 37 muscles to smile but only 13 to fart).
The point is I hurt bad and needed to do something so I could sit on the toilet again without using the towel rack as a support bar.
An ice bath was my only option. I did it. I hated it. My “boys” hated it even more. My muscles loved it but the jury is still out on fathering children ever again. I'm still waiting on the results from Maury.
Gigi from Chunky Monkey Mama:
When I worked at a Wall Street firm, we used to have a quaint little phrase for being canned. We called it "being shot". One day, word went out that the workforce was being "streamlined" and the big bosses were going to each branch office with their "guns". All worker bees were advised to keep their heads down lest they fall in the cross hairs. Sure enough, the bosses arrived at our office around noon, someone yelled "duck", I thought they said "lunch", stood up and got "shot". Moral of the story: Always keep a snack in your desk drawer.
Who said losing weight is no laughing matter?
Besides being just generally hilarious, all of these bloggers are just overall good folks whose stories I’d encourage you to follow.
