I need an intervention.

I love food.  I particularly love sweets, but I also LOVE cheese, and potatoes, and breads, and pastas, and vegetables, and FRUIT – oh, wonderful fruit, and pizza, and hamburgers and steaks and ALL red meat, and fish, and salads, and French fries dipped in ranch dressing, and nuts, and cookies, and chocolate, and vegetable omelets with turkey sausage on the side, and Wheat Thins, and sliced apples with peanut butter, and popcorn, and Diet Dr. Pepper, and wine, and just about anything with artichokes and/or mushrooms.  Oh, and recently, I’ve fallen in love with French toast.  I love food. 

I love to cook.  I love to try new recipes.  Much like my outfits, I try new recipes more often than I repeat them – with the exception of a moderately sized repertoire of “cook by heart” dishes, of course.  On the weekends, sometimes I like to bake.  I absolutely love to slow cook things like roast or tenderloin all day long on a Saturday or Sunday.  I wish I was better about using my slow cooker because I love that, too.  I love to make a big pot of soup or chili – and I think there’s almost nothing better than a homemade salad.  Yum.  I love to make homemade pizza with spinach, fresh tomato, mushroom, and black olives.  I love to poach an egg and serve it on an English muffin with fresh basil, a huge slice of tomato and melted Swiss cheese.  I love to cook.

I love to watch cooking shows.  In fact, Rachael Ray is on in the background as I type this.  In those long ago days of my old life, when I was just the mommy of one, BigGirl and I used to lay around all day long on Sundays watching PBS cooking shows, one right after the other.  (That was in the decade that I didn’t pay for cable….Darn it, Comcast.  You’re evil.) Perhaps it was those early days of her life that firmed BigGirl’s own love of cooking shows.  Just a moment ago, as she ran out of the room for a quick second, she instructed me “Tell me everything I miss!  And don’t you forget a thing!”  So, when she returned, I dutifully filled her in on the steps of hollowing out zucchinis, cleaning mushrooms and starting a saute skillet.  We love to watch cooking shows.

Now, unfortunately, these three loves come at a price.  Now, I need to lose weight…again. 

Enter CBS Sunday Morning.  This show has “been in the family” as long as I can remember.  Growing up, the only Sunday mornings our home was not filled with the soothing sounds of Charles Kuralt’s voice were the days he was on vacation.  Those final peaceful scenes in which the only soundtrack is that of crickets chirping, wind blowing, and geese honking were the Closing Ceremonies of our Sundays.  This tradition has carried on into my own home.  A few weekends ago, they featured a story on procrastinators, during which they highlighted a unique site called Stickk.com.  It “stuck” with me as a unique concept.  I intended on looking it up later.

Enter my sister-in-law.  She, too, loves food.  She, too, wants to lose weight. 

Two heads are better than one.

Here’s the plan:

We’ve made a little challenge/wager of sorts.

The Plan:  We’ve both committed to exercising at least 3-4 times per week each week until June 18th.  At which date, we are aiming to have lost 20 pounds.  (Each.  Hee hee!)   You can check on our progress here and here.  Feel free to cheer us on…or heckle, I guess.  That can be motivating, too.  

Collateral:  We will pay each other $5 every week that we do not meet our exercise goal.  Our progress is being refereed by impartial parties. 

End Results:  If we do NOT reach our ultimate weight loss goal, the other will

(a) Do something with the other person’s money (which, depending upon our diligence, could reach a maximum of $80) that they would NEVER do. 

And,

(b) UTTERLY AND COMPLETELY HUMILIATE THE OTHER ON OUR OWN BLOG.  I mean, we’re going below the belt.  We will leave out no detail.  She gets to tell the world what a lazy bootie I’ve been.  She gets to tell the world what a fat bootie I’ve become. She gets to tell the world everything I don’t even want to tell her.   This part was her idea, by the way. 

That, my dear, is an intervention.  B.  It’s all about (b) for me.

Well, that and the insults my Wii Fit threw at me yesterday as I climbed back on after months of neglecting it.  Man.  That thing really knows how to hold a grudge and smack on a guilt trip, doesn’t it?  “Looks like you didn’t reach your goal.  Humph.  I could have told you that already.  Do you want to try again, or are you done trying to keep up appearances for my sake???”  “Oops.  Looks like you’ve gained a few pounds, haven’t you?  ***inflates Mii to five times its original size*** There.  Now that’s  more like it.  Don’t you agree?”  “Have you been participating in fitness activities away from the Wii Fit?  Have you been cheating on me with the gym?  Is that why you never come see me anymore?”  And I love how it talks about everyone else, too.  “You know, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Diego…Have YOU heard from him lately?”   I do not always like my Wii.

Gotta go.  Ina Garten is on.