Sunday, August 27, 2006

'The Family Olympics'

So far the return to Weight Watchers is progressing well; I've lost about 20 lbs since May, and feel much better. I'd gotten to the point where my old clothes were wearing out. I figured that I could either take several hundred dollars to go buy a new set of "fat" clothes, or I could take the same money and give it to Weight Watchers, and get back to a size where I can once again wear the "thin" clothes still hanging in my closet. This seemed like the best option, as I really do like those clothes I bought 6 years ago.

When I was at my heaviest, Dean and I worked out a plan for "The Family Olympics", a competition for ordinary people, not specialist athletes. One of our events was "wife-tossing". In this competition, a husband would have to toss his wife as far as he could - the furthest throw would win, of course. But there was a twist to it.

In some Olympic sports, like weightlifting, an athlete can cut to the chase and simply declare the weight he intends to lift - instead of going up by increments, if he thinks he can lift, say, 375 lbs, he'll just announce it, and the competition moves up to that level. You can see the sense of it; at one blow, he might be able to knock out weaker competitors, and only the very best will be left. Also, I suppose that each "bout" takes energy, and maybe it's better to save your stuff for the big finale, rather than tire yourself out with lots of lesser weights.

Anyway, in our competition, the husband has to publicly declare the weight of the wife he's going to toss - with her standing beside him, of course. A heavier weight will be awarded some handicap points, so you'd get the dilemma of the husband trying to figure out if it's better to be truthful and actually try to WIN, or be diplomatic and save his life. In our case, Dean would surely announce my weight as, oh, 135 lbs, because he'd be dead if he tried to do anything else. And of course, he'd then have to THROW me, which would lead to certain hernia on his part, and bitter recriminations from me, such as, "Dean! How can you not even throw 135 lbs! This very weakling husband..." (in my best Punjabi accent). Meanwhile someone with a dainty little wife would probably be able to throw her a good 10 feet or so, and Dean would be embarrassed at only throwing me 18 inches.

We never got to the point of really working out how the point count would work, we were always laughing too much. There were other events, but this one was by far the most sadistic.


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