I had the following slightly awkward encounter with a co-worker this morning. She took me into the kitchen, watched me step onto a scale, and proceeded to record my weight. I told her I was pretending that she was my doctor, not my coworker. That probably made it even more awkward.
Today marks the official start of the weight loss challenge.
The rules: Staff and seniors buy in at $250 each, managers pony up $500 each, and partners contribute $1,000 each. Each person sets for him/herself a reasonable weight loss goal (deemed reasonable by an expert panel of judges, i.e. the partners). In seven months, after April 15th, there will be a final weigh-in. If you meet your goal, you get all of your money back and you are rewarded with a party. If you do not meet your goal, you lose all of your money, which gets used to fund the party slash be distributed among those who met theirs.
I have yet to decide if my goal will be 11.1 pounds or 16.1 pounds. The latter will get me back to my pre-freshman 15 fabulous self, which is an incentive all on its own. I am making this a public record so that if you see me eating pasta washed down with cake, anything deep-fried, or really anything excessive, you are encouraged to give me a stern look or find another means of making me feel guilty. (When I misbehaved as a 3- or 4-year old, all Papa T had to do was give me a brief stern look, not even saying anything to reprimand, and I would start bawling in shame and my eyelashes would get stuck in my eyes and make me cry even more. Those were definitely some formative years.)
Please keep in mind that I am allowed unlimited amounts of sushi and the occasional gelato splurge.