Father of the bride goes to fitness boot camp Posted on May 18th
The photographer wanted to use a marker to scrawl something like “Baby on Board” on my gut and then take the pictures. But you have to draw the line somewhere, and it wasn’t going to be on my bare stomach, the one with six-pack abs in 60 different places.
There are many reasons for me to lose some weight, and certainly having my daughter getting married in a few months is as good an excuse as any. The girl at the tuxedo shop measured my waist as four inches bigger than the pants I wear, since my stomach tends to push my jeans down a little. OK, a lot.
Can some of you relate to that? I thought so. How about this: I hate diet books. I like junk food. I’ve dabbled in the Atkins and South Beach diets, and used to belong to a fitness center. Couldn’t stick with it. The men in my family have a history of heart disease, and it would be nice to avoid being the next casualty.
Maybe the combination of public humiliation and a firm (not flabby) journalistic deadline of Aug. 2 will do the trick. But no gimmicks in diet or exercise. No health club that I have to get in my car and drive four miles in heavy traffic to get to. Eat less, exercise more, change my lifestyle, see what happens. Because if I fail to shape up, a label like “Biggest Loser” will seem much more personal than the title of a reality show.
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