Fifty-or-Fit

So the lot of us were at Friday’s a week or two ago to celebrate Mary Shelley’s birthday. Mary is on my right, Dolley Madison on my left. Opposite are Idgie Threadgoode and Alypius; Mr. Darcy at the head. Little by little the subject turned to New Year’s resolutions, and, from there, weight loss. “I need to lose weight this year,” said Mr. Darcy. Dolley agreed, and in a flash Mr. Darcy’s hand was out. “Let’s make a bet out of it,” he said, “50 dollars apiece to see who wins the most by…” Dolley laughed and shook on it. Discussion followed. Alypius threw in. Do it! I thought. You need to lose weight big time. Plus, this is a great way to do that and be a part of things! Now $50 is a lot of money, and I’m normally not given to wagering anything. When the powerball was up in the 200 million, I didn’t even buy a dollar ticket. Just do it! I went back and forth, and then finally shook on it. The date set was April Fool’s Day. Whoever loses the most weight, measured as a percentage lost, wins the pot at $150.

The next morning, Dolley sent an email to the rest of us. “….one mile, x sit ups, y push ups….GAME ON!” Mr. Darcy’s shot back: two trips for beer. My strategy hasn’t so far been as aggressive. Slight, incremental changes are my forte, harnessing the power of caloric compound interest. Park further from buildings. Drink water. Cut out sweets. Take the stairs. I lost 20lbs doing just this a few years ago, and I wagered these would make a good sortie toward the goal. That is until Alypius started getting up early to work out. Now I’m thinking a good deal about that fitness center in the new apartment complex.

Lynn-nore was a little shocked when I broke the news. $50 is a lot of money! (Did I mention that?) If every couple has a spendthrift and a tightwad, then I am most definitely the former. Still, the health benefits of having me a bit lighter, coupled with the prospect of winning enough money to cover the cost of a new wardrobe sweetened the deal. Also, we have since figured that the money saved by acquiring our apartment, thereby negating the need to pick up a Y membership, is none too shabby. I even think, having been at it for over a week now, that she is a little proud of me – and that feels good.