Man! Do we have a bunch of losers working at Stuckey & Company!…Stay with me… You see, I am, myself, in fact, a loser –not the biggest here, but when every ounce counts, I am considered a loser, none the less. There are many definitions for the word, but the one that tends to conjure up memories of that last scrawny kid waiting to be picked for a second grade kickball team at recess, the kid who runs up and misses the kick every single time, who loses the game for her team by getting pummeled by a thick heavy, rust colored rubber ball that leaves tiny triangular imprints on her stinging arm for the rest of the day (by the way, I have learned to forgive that huge, mean girl who hit me, in fact, I applaud her for her ability to hit a slowly moving target three feet away and I’m completely over it) anyway,  that’s the kind of “loser” we generally think of.  It wasn’t until the reality show hit the airwaves that made me think that the term “loser” could be a good thing. When The Biggest Loser first came out, I was horrified that our society was exploiting the contestants’ life-long demons. I felt a bit immoral and ashamed for indulging in mindless entertainment (that only reality shows can provide) at the expense of someone else’s struggles. But I soon realized that society needs this just as much as the contestants need the stage. I won’t preach statistics (mostly because I’m too lazy to look them up right now), but suffice it to say that we are a fat nation. That sounds harsh, but compared to previous generations of children, our kids are in trouble. What better way to motivate, than to put a carrot in front of the horse. Personally, I prefer a truffle rather than a carrot, but as long as we have to weigh in each week here at Stuckey & Company, I’ll forgo the treat. Now, don’t misunderstand, those of us participating in Stuckey and Company’s Biggest Loser contest are not sitting on stationary bikes eight hours a day while we quote insurance for our new Architect and Engineers program (Call Chris Boylan for more information). We don’t have a personal trainer walking between our desks yelling “Type faster, type faster! Get those fingers moving!” But we do have a colorful chart that displays our percentage of weight loss each week and, thank Goodness, a scale that weighs ounces. Sidebar: the right earrings can make or break a weigh-in. Maggie is our arbiter. She collects our dollar every week and keeps her hand out for the extra buck it costs those who gain weight. We are stepping on the scale every week until June at which time the biggest loser will win the spoils. After nearly a month in, I asked the nine other participants what they are doing to lose weight and how they feel. It seems to be a pretty wide spectrum ranging from eating one less french fry, to spinning classes before work. But universally, everyone feels better and continues to be more conscious of their food choices.  And for the most part, except that one sundae incident, we are very supportive of each other. So, personally, I guess you could say, I’m proud to be considered a loser at Stuckey & Company (even if it is just a half pound).