Yesterday, I launched a little contest, aiming to do two things:
- Give me the motivation to reverse my serious trend toward winter weight gain, by going public with my own effort while simultaneously getting some additional motivation through blog solidarity.
- Clean out my office.
As I photographed all the stuff I’m giving away, I thought to myself, “There is no way enough people are going to sign up for this contest for me to give all these prizes away.”
Which means that if we all actually succeed in our “10 Pounds by Christmas” goal, we’ll have collectively lost close to four tons.
Not bad at all.
When I Say Ten, I Mean Ten
There are quite a few comments in yesterday’s post saying things like, “I don’t have ten pounds to lose, so count me in for losing the eight extra ounces I’d like to get rid of.”
Which is awesome. I’m incredibly happy (and by “happy” I of course mean “envious”) that I have some readers that don’t have a lot of weight to lose, and that you’re jumping on this bandwagon to lose that final three pounds or whatever.
But this is a ten-pound challenge, and I created it for those of us who have more than ten pounds to lose, and want to get rid of at least ten pounds by Christmas. In other words, this is a “let’s jumpstart our weight loss” contest. And the people who get prizes will all have lost a minimum of ten pounds.
As we get into Spring or maybe Summer, I like the idea of a “last X pounds” challenge, where — hopefully — a bunch of us will compete to get rid of those final stubborn pounds together. And since those pounds are the hardest to get rid of, I think the incentives might be a little more awesome.
Call For Sponsors
Right now, the “Fatty’s Ten Pounds By Christmas” challenge is not really sponsored. Prizes are just the cool things I happen to already have laying around my office but haven’t given away.
But that doesn’t mean this challenge couldn’t be sponsored. If I were a company with a product that appeals to motivated, engaged cyclists, I think I’d take a look at a contest that obviously has captured a lot of interest in a short time and consider hitching myself to that star, as it were.
As in, if you’d like to make this the “[Your Company Name] / Fat Cyclist Ten Pounds by Christmas Challenge,” email me.
I’m not really looking for money as part of this sponsorship (though I suppose it’d be nice for me to get enough money out of this to cover the shipping costs I’m going to incur by mailing out so much schwag); I’m interested in cool giveaways — either small things that you’re willing to send to a lot of winners, or some grand prizes you’d be willing to send to one or more lucky winners.
Or both. Both would be good.
How to Lose an Extra 0.2 Pounds
This morning, I woke up excited. Yesterday I had accomplished a rare thing: a no-mistakes diet day. So I knew I’d have lost a lot of weight.
I stepped on the scale: 170.8 pounds. A loss of 2.4 pounds in one day. Not bad at all.
But I wanted more.
So I punched the reset button on the scale and climbed on. This time, I got 170.6. What had changed? I wasn’t sure. So I reset the scale again and climbed back on. 170.6 again.
Yes, I know. I should be satisfied with a day’s loss of 2.6 pounds. But that extra 0.2 pounds I seem to have lost over the course of seven seconds left me wanting more.
I got greedy.
Surely, I thought, it must be possible for me to lose yet another 0.2 pounds (my scale increments in 0.2 pounds, or I’d probably have been satisfied with 0.1 pounds). Right now.
Attempt One: Leg Shaving
With ten inches of snow sitting on my lawn, I’m not getting outside in shorts often. My tan is gone; my legs hadn’t been shaved in two weeks.
And you know, I’m a hairy guy. It’s totally possible I’ve got 3.2 ounces (i.e., 0.2 pounds).
So I shaved.
My weight remained — stubbornly — at 170.6.
It occurs to me — now that it’s too late — that my legs are not the only things I can shave. Perhaps if I had shaved my head, arms, armpits, face and chest, I might have been able to bridge that gap to 0.2 pounds through de-hair-ization alone.
Which is something I’ll keep in mind tomorrow.
Attempt Two: Total-Concentration Peeing
Naturally, I peed before weighing myself this morning. But by the time I finished showering, (very, very thoroughly) toweling off, and weighing myself, that I might possibly be able to pee just a little bit more.
Doesn’t need to be a lot. I mean, how much is three ounces (I’m sure that getting rid of the hair must have gotten rid of at least 0.6 ounces, right?) of water? A couple teaspoons? Maybe a quarter cup at most.
And — if you think about it — you’ve almost always got a little bit of pee ready to go.
Except I didn’t. I just stood there for about two minutes, feeling a little bit silly.
No, wait. There it is. And, there, I’m done.
Well, if I didn’t pee out three ounces, I did at least post a new record for “most effort for least pee.”
My weight: still 170.6.
Attempt Three: Brushing Teeth
Have you ever considered that the plaque and other miscellaneous gunk that builds up on your teeth has mass? Well of course it does!
And this morning, I decided that a good teeth brushing might just remove enough of that stuff to tip the scale to 170.4.
So I brushed. Very extensively.
And then I spat. And spat again. And then I gleeked a couple of times (one of my not-very-famous super powers).
And weighed myself. 170.6.
Then, in a burst of inspiration, I reset the scale and climbed back on — but this time inched my toes forward ever so slightly. Because…well…I kind of have this idea that the scale is just a hair friendlier toward the front.
170.2. I have lost an even three pounds my first day of the Challenge.
Fair and square.