The Diet Contest...shhhhhh!

The diet class taught me one thing. Ok, it taught me many things...but one thing stands out. Men and women are very different. I'm practically a genius, I know. I don't know why that guy wrote the hideous book, 'Men are from Mars, Women are...blah, blah, blah.' He could have saved a lot of time by attending a diet class.

Men are, by nature, competitive animals. We compete at everything. We compete at stupid things. You name it, we will make a contest for it. Any and all sports, a contest. How fast you can get somewhere driving, a contest. Drinking games? Seriously, do you think that was created by a woman? Who can barbecue the best? Spit the furthest? Burp the loudest? Real men care about these things.

Women are social animals. It started with tea parties...and just went downhill from there. Dress pretty, play nice, sugar and spice and all that crap. Oh, in the last ten to fifteen years the landscape has changed a little. But let's face it, if you are a woman, competing like a guy, 98 times out of 100, you will be treated like a guy. That may get you props...but it won't get you many dates. So the die has been cast.

I will say this, women who like to compete with men are not in the Diet Class. They don't drown their sorrows with Ben & Jerry's Cherry Garcia...they go kill some guy friend in racquetball and burn about 1200 calories doing it. They don't end up fat and they don't ever feel like victims of a 'weight-issue.' The women in the diet class were all nice women. I will say honestly though that most of them did not seem as committed to the diet as the men were. The men in diet class still had that guy-ish competitive fire. It was there. Buried and smoldering...but you had to be a guy to recognize it. And so it came to be, that that was how I would figure out the golden rule in diet class. A rule that had been profferred by the majority of that class, the women. DON'T EVER, EVER, EVEN UNDER DURESS, MENTION THE AMOUNT YOU LOST. What a weird rule! It wasn't stated...but it existed as sure as the oxygen in that room. You couldn't see it...but you knew it was there.

The class started with the Behavior Specialist (let's call her...Sharon) telling everyone that we start the class with a weekly "check in." The "check in" was the time when you introduce yourself and tell everyone how your week went. I am a data guy. I work with data and facts and revenue and expenses all day long. I have to describe business happenings in a complete, accurate, concise, EFFICIENT manner. That said, I just say it like it is. So I listened to the first woman.

"Hi, my name is Joan. I had...I guess...a so so week. I did all right. I didn't do as well as I wanted but I did lose some. So long as you lose something, you are going in the right direction, right?"

How much did you lose??? (I think in italics.)

"Hi, I'm Janie and I didn't do well at all this week. I will try harder next week."

How much did you lose??? or gain???

"Hi, I'm Mary and I went on a work thing last week and came back and had to go to a wedding. I have vowed that this week I am going to recommit myself to the diet."

Recommit? RE-commit?? As in 'start over?' Do you mean to tell me that people are on this diet and cheating? It costs $800 plus the co-pays and food! This is nuts.

"Hi, I'm Ray (my buddy). I did real well this week, I am happy and I reached a personal milestone."

"What was it?", I asked.

"I just did real well.", he said, anxious for the discussion to move on.

"How much did you lose?", I whispered.

"We don't talk about that.", he said tensely. His tight smile was betrayed by his eyes, nervously darting around the room.

Most of the room gave him those knowing nods. You know, the ones they use at private clubs when you self-police. The last time I saw something like this was in East Germany before the Berlin Wall was torn down. The oppressed folk in that lovely town had the same look on their faces. I sat there thinking, "I will tell you this, I am going to say how great I am doing." When I go on a diet, and I had been on a few, I don't mess around. I commit, I focus, I deliver. I can't KEEP the weight off, but dammit, I can hit my goal. And when I am in that mode...EVERYONE knows what I am doing. I tell everyone...because I expect...FULLY...to succeed. So if they thought I was going to adhere to the social dictum of the class, they had another thing coming. They were in my schoolyard now...they would have to learn to deal with me.

"Hi, my name is Dick and this is my first week. I haven't lost one pound yet but I just got my shakes and can't wait to get this thing started. My goal is 85 lbs and I fully expect to hit it in a very short time. I have been waiting 6 weeks to get into this program and I am ready to rock it."

Sharon just gave me an apologetic nod. "Well that's very...um...encouraging. Nice to have a new face in the group."

Nervous tension. Concerned glares. Biting lips. Pursed smiles. But wry looks from the guys. Knowing glances between the men. "He's here isn't he? It's him. He's the one."

I was there to free them from their emasculated forms. I was going to bring the heat to the kitchen. I was about to make this a miserable hell for the ones who had made the unspoken rules.

Welcome to the Diet Contest.

Next: The most selfishly unselfish thing you will ever do.