The Biggest Loser

Edited by Mikothebaby

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I was born Carlton James Randall, which quickly became Carl when I got to school, and then C.J. in high school. And once I got on the football team, I was Big C. At 6'4" and 260lbs I was always a big one. At that time I was one of the bigger guys on our defensive line. The thing that had all of the colleges dying to recruit me wasn't my size. I was huge for a high-school student, but just barely bigger than the average guy playing my position on the top college teams. The thing that had them all sniffing after me was the fact that even though I was as big as a fucking house, I had the jets. I could run like someone stuck a rocket up my ass. My sophomore year in college, I led the conference in sacks, forced fumbles, and swatted down balls. Half the quarterbacks in our conference were afraid of me. Usually halfway through a game the offensive linemen on the other side would just put up token resistance because they knew we were going to get through. It was rare that I was not double teamed.

Right now you're wondering aren't you? Why the hell haven't I heard of this guy? Which pro team does he play, oh yeah he plays for... Let me help you out, I play for Provincial Insurance. When you see those commercials on TV, telling you to get yourself a piece of the block, that's us. Right now I'm the company's Accounting Director, all of Provincial's accountants, worldwide, report to me. You see I had a career ending knee injury at the beginning of my junior year and couldn't ever play football again. I hit the books hard, got my degrees in Accounting and Global Finance and never looked back. Okay maybe I do yearn for a taste of the glory days every time the Super Bowl rolls around but that's only because I was so God damned close to being there.

Anyway I'm happy with most of my life. As you'd imagine, I drag home a butt-load of cash. I have a nice home and a beautiful wife who loves me. So what's the problem? Remember my weight in high school? At 35 years old I'm in the prime of my life. I'm still 6'4" but now I tip the scales at close to 400 lbs. I'm a heart attack waiting to happen. It is only a matter of time.

My wife Sarah has been putting pressure on me lately to do something about my weight. Mostly I just half heartedly tried whatever she suggested. None of the fitness plans or diets worked and I've tried them all. Remember the Adkins diet that all of those people lost weight on a few years ago. I cut out nearly all of my carbs and still gained weight. Whatever the diet's stipulations were, I seemed to find a way around them. With Adkins, I cut all of my carbs and simply replaced the calories with more meat. It got to the point where I was eating like a cow a day. I was better off eating the carbs. Not to mention the fact that eating all of that red meat caused my blood pressure to spike.

Then one night about 3 weeks ago it all changed. Sarah and I were having sex, and I just gave out and collapsed on top of her. She literally couldn't breathe with me on her and it just went downhill from there. We started arguing about my weight as usual, and she finally told me that until I lost at least 50 lbs, we wouldn't be having sex anymore. I left the room and slammed the door. I slept in the guest room that night and left for work early the next morning. I hoped that when I got home it would be just another argument that blew over, but it wasn't. Sarah had gone on the internet and found me a weight loss boot camp. The camp lasted for a month, she told me that it was probably the best thing for me. She was tired of being married to the fattest guy in the neighborhood. It was embarrassing for her.

I looked at the brochure she'd printed from the internet and called them. I had them process a payment for me right then and arranged to leave in the morning. "You're actually going?" she asked me. But I didn't say anything to her. I just headed upstairs to start packing my clothes. "It'll be great for you to lose some weight. You'll be healthier and you'll feel better," she said.

"The month will pass like no time, I'll call you every day," she said.

That night I slept in the guest room again. Sarah didn't understand why. "We're not angry at each other, it's over. Why are you sleeping in there?" she asked.

"You said we weren't going to sleep together again until I lost 50lbs," I reminded her.

"I said we weren't going to have sex again until you lost it," she said. "Anyway I didn't really mean it, I was just upset." I think she realized that she had hurt me pretty badly and was trying to make up for it. But getting away from home for a while just seemed like a good idea at the time.

The next morning, before Sarah awakened I got into my Chrysler 300 C and drove to the airport. I flew to Tucson and the dry heat of the Arizona desert to start the camp. For my first 3 weeks here I've been doing my usual bit when it comes to fitness. I spent most of my first week here getting my internet and computer system set up to allow me to work while I'm at camp. The next week I started actually viewing what was going on here. I say viewing because I didn't actually participate in anything. I just watched and laughed at some of the things they expected us to do. In terms of the food, let's face it. I have internet access. So I use the meals they serve us as an appetizer, and order pizza or burgers and have them delivered. The delivery people even know that to get a bigger tip they just meet me on the access road that the campers use for jogging. I sit at the picnic tables and eat the food and then go back to camp. So after being here for nearly 3 weeks how much have I lost? I've lost -6 lbs. Yep that means I'm actually 6 lbs fatter than when I got here.

That all changed 2 days ago, when I got an email from an old friend of mine, Steve Martin, (no, not that comedian/actor). Anyway Steve had just gone through a messy divorce and was getting his life back together. He wasn't really looking for another wife yet he just wanted to mess around and play for a while. Steve wrote me that he's been out on a date at a club with a woman who was way too young and too wild for us, and he thought he'd seen Sarah there with another guy. So he'd gone over to see if it was her. It was, she was out with a guy he'd never seen before and was letting the guy put his hands all over her. He'd taken a few pictures because he knew that I wouldn't believe him, or that I wouldn't want to believe him. I looked at the pictures, and I knew that he was right. It was Sarah. I recognized the one of a kind necklace I'd had made for her when we went to Mexico last year. That email changed my whole reason for being here. And it changed my life.

I spent the next day taking stock of my life and decided what I wanted to change. I was a really nice guy. And I have, like I said a great life, but there were a couple of things that would need to be changed. One, I really did have to do something about my weight and self image. The other thing could wait until after that was over. This morning I went into the camp office and sat down with the director. I told him that I needed to change my life so I signed up for the 6 month intensive program that they reserve for people who are nearly morbidly obese.

I started right away this morning I went out for a walk in the desert with one of the training groups. It was an easy 2 mile walk at a very slow pace. It was supposed to help speed up our metabolisms and start us out burning calories before we ate breakfast. I laughed at the thought of it because back in high-school and college, I used to run about four miles a day at a very good pace. That was my wake up call. It made me realize how far I had fallen and that this wasn't high school. I might've felt like I was still that big, toned, athletic, football player, but I wasn't. I struggled to finish the 2 miles and near the end I couldn't keep up the pace. There were a couple of 60 year old ladies urging me on and telling me I was doing great, as they passed me with a half mile to go.

When I got back to camp, I was bathed in sweat, and having trouble walking. My knee, the one I'd injured playing football actually hurt. As I entered the cafeteria a lot of the people I'd befriended at the camp called me over. They were mostly shocked to see me all sweaty. They were also as big a bunch of scam artists as I was. I went and sat at a small table in the back, alone. If I was going to do what I now had my mind set on, I didn't need any negative influences. For breakfast I had a half a glass of orange juice, a piece of toast, a half a cup of fresh fruit, and two slices of low fat turkey bacon. I was still starving when I finished, but I had truly decided to change.

After breakfast we had an hour to do as we pleased before our first workshop. I used my hour to hire a private investigator to get me the info I needed on Sarah. It wasn't something I relished or looked forward to. It was just something I had to do. I needed to know how far she'd gone with that guy and whether or not there were others. I loved Sarah, and upon reflection, I guess I could understand what she was going through. Depending on how far she went with this guy, there was a chance that maybe we could get past this.

As I went to the workshop, this time I actually listened to the speakers they'd lined up for us. I heard stories from former campers who'd lost a great deal of weight and had successfully kept it off. In some cases, they'd made great changes in their lives and most claimed it was all because after years of struggling with their weight they'd found one thing or one person or one incident that gave them the focus and the reason to change. I realized that finding out that the woman I loved more than anything was cheating on me had been my motivating incident. But that I wasn't changing for her, I was changing for myself. I'd always had women through high school and college. And since then I had Sarah, so I really didn't need to look at myself. But the thought of losing her made me realize that I needed to change some things about myself.

Almost as soon as I got out of the workshop, my phone rang. It was Sarah making her daily call. I hadn't spoken to her for the previous 2 days since I'd spoken to Steve because I had been too hurt to even speak to her.

"Hi Honey," she said cheerfully. Where've you been that you haven't answered the phone? I've missed you so much."

"Sarah, I've been trying to both work from this place and lose some weight. So it's been tough." I said.

"Well, don't worry, you'll be home in 2 days, and it'll be over." She said.

"No Sarah, I haven't lost 50 lbs. So I'm not coming home yet." I said seriously.

"Carl, that was just an arbitrary number I threw out there, when I was pissed. I miss you. I want you to come home," she said seriously. "I don't care if you only lost 2 pounds. I've got what I wanted, and you are seriously trying. If you really want to lose weight now that you're serious about it, you can lose weight at home just as easily."

"No Sarah," I said just as seriously. "A deal is a deal. I won't be home until I've lost at least 50 lbs., maybe more." In my mind, I'd keyed on her words that she'd gotten what she wanted. She probably should have said who she wanted.

"Carl," don't be so stubborn, you can lose weight at home. Besides I've been thinking about some things and I really want you to come home."

"Sarah, my mind is made up, but I need you to do me a favor," I said. "It's really difficult for me to lose weight without totally immersing myself in the lifestyle here, so I don't want you to call me until I'm done. I'm doing this for both of us. I don't want you to have to be embarrassed by me anymore. I see now how awful it was for you all of this time, being followed around by some disgusting fat slob, just because he loved you."

"Carl, I never should have said that," she said, softly. "I was just angry."

I hung the phone up and got into some sweat pants and a sweat shirt for our morning exercise class. I went to the gym and looked around I got in line in the front instead of the back. I wasn't going to hide anymore. The trainer today was Debbie. She was a very no nonsense trainer. She had never spoken so much as a word to me since I'd gotten here. I had seen her sneering at me a few times, but we'd never spoken. Even now as I lined up in the front row, she was looking at me as if she wanted just the force of her glance to push me to the back so she didn't have to look at me.

We started out with stretches and reaching exercises. Not only could I not touch my toes I had trouble touching my knees. But I tried really hard. Before we had finished the warm ups, we hadn't actually done any real exercises yet and I was already sweating. Then the embarrassment began, we started with light leg lifts, lifting our knees to supposedly waist height. When we got done with those I was bathed in sweat and Debbie was looking at me, with laughter in her eyes and an evil smirk on her face. We did arm lifts and she kept us doing them until I couldn't hold my arms up anymore, but I kept trying. We got down on the mat, for still more embarrassment. In my prime I could bench press over 300 lbs. That day I failed to do even one push-up. I was able to do one sit-up, but I collapsed after it. Debbie's smug look followed me as I left. I went and showered before lunch.

After lunch we had another hour off, I went to the clinic and got my knee looked at. I had a very slight strain and they wrapped it up for me. The exertion of the morning's walk had just pushed the muscles surrounding the joint further than they'd experienced in a long time. The doctor told me to ice it for a couple of days and I'd be fine. I could even still walk on it tomorrow, but he didn't advise me trying to over-do it.

And that was my pattern for the next week. I ate only the meals we were served, and refused the desserts. I also skipped most of the snacks unless I was absolutely starving. The first 5 days were absolute hell. I know that I was the butt of several jokes and a lot of laughter. But after the first 3 weeks I'd spent here I deserved it. But I was proud of myself, at the end of my first week of really working at it I'd lost 8 lbs.

I got my first report from the PI at the end of that first week as well. He had pictures for me. Some were from a restaurant that Sarah had gone to with the guy. And even a recorded conversation with him. Of course there were also pictures of her going into a motel room with him, and from the length of time they stayed in the motel it was very obvious what they were doing. The funniest thing is that her having sex with him didn't hurt me nearly as much as hearing some of the things she said about me behind my back did.

The guy had asked her what made her finally decide to give him a chance after he'd been after her for months. I hadn't heard anything about that from her, so she'd been keeping secrets from me for a long time. She'd apparently known this guy from her college days but they hadn't actually gotten together until recently. She'd told him that she was just tired and embarrassed by me. And that I was too out of shape to even satisfy her anymore, so she'd sent me off to camp so she could try out a real man. Then she asked him how he hid what they were doing from his wife. He told her that like her, he wore the pants in his family and his wife did what he told her and didn't question him.

In my second week of real training I picked up the pace of the morning walks, in the afternoons I started swimming laps or pool walking. I also started doing some of the skill building activities like, archery and fencing. I needed to pick up a few hobby type activities that would allow me to keep busy when I left the camp. I also hired myself a good divorce lawyer. I explained what was going on and how I'd discovered it and arranged for him to get reports from the PI as well, so he'd be up on any and all developments. I asked him to get the papers ready to be served even though I still didn't have an end date in sight yet.

By the end of my first month of real training I was a new man, or I was closer to being the man I'd been. I'd lost almost 40 lbs, and I felt better than I'd felt in years. My routine was different as well, I usually got up earlier and jogged 3 miles instead of the morning walk. I always did Debbie's exercise class but now it seemed like she no longer looked down on me and had actually began to smile and greet me in the mornings. The biggest shock came one morning when I'd completed my 10th push up out of a set of fifteen that we tried for and found a sudden weight on my back. I pushed as hard as I could and got another push up in. I looked up to see Debbie pushing down on my back to add resistance.

I was able to handle most of my work responsibilities, from the camp over the internet and via email and phone. I had also made a list of friends and associates and during my daily meditation sessions instead of meditating on motivating myself to lose weight, I examined my relationship with most of the people I knew.

I realized that for a long time, a lot of them hadn't been actually laughing with me about my weight, they'd been laughing at me. By the six week point my weight had actually hit a plateau. The weight was still coming off but at a much slower pace. I had lost just over 60lbs but I was no longer able to maintain the roughly one to one and a half pounds per day that I had previously averaged.

I remembered back in high school, my coach would have us do 2 a days if we came into preseason workouts out of shape. So I added a second longer run to my daily schedule. This run was more challenging and although my knee and my age would never again let me run as I had in college, I enjoyed it and I started to run a little further each day. Sometimes when I got back, if I still had the energy for it, I'd go to the gym and lift weights. There again. I was taking it easy and counting on my memory of what I'd done when I was younger to get me through it. When I first started it was embarrassing. After years of telling people about my 300 lb bench presses, I struggled to bench 100 lbs.

Another thing that was a shock to me was that as I made progress, it wasn't consistent. I got my bench up to 150lbs and then couldn't lift it again for over a week. My legs were also very weak. The knee injury simply wouldn't let me do squats or a lot of the other heavy leg exercises. The same thing happened with a lot of the exercises for my back. Anything I had to do in a standing position was limited by the weakness of my knee joint. But I got better slowly. The pain in my heart just didn't seem to be going away though.

One night I was trying to put up 170 lbs and the first rep went up pretty easily. I struggled with the second rep. Common sense should have told me not to try a third, but in my emotional state common sense was not my strong point. On the way back up the bar got much heavier and I just couldn't push it up. I pushed with all of my might and was trying to think of a way to wriggle out from under the bar when I felt someone grab it and start pulling it back up. Together we managed to get the bar back on its stands.

"Well, that was intelligent, Carl," said Debbie. "You barely made the second rep, so what made you think you could get another one in? Did you know that it was against camp policy to be in the weight room alone? Do you understand why now?"

"I'm sorry Debbie, it won't happen again," I said. "Thank you for saving me. I know it's just another thing for you to laugh at, so enjoy telling everyone how you had to help the fat slob again." I left after that. If Debbie had any further scolding or complaints she held them and just let me walk away.

The next day after breakfast, I started looking into some of the workout rooms to see if there was another exercise group I could join. There was a yoga class and a Pilates group that I'd never tried, but I decided to try the step aerobics class. It looked like it might be fun and there were a lot of women in the class and very few men. I was just about to go in when I heard a voice behind me.