This Family Was Inspired to Lose Weight—and F.A.S.T.

By Tony Dean, Omaha, Nebraska

As appeared in

A November evening and my family, as usual, was eating. All of us, my five siblings and I, plus spouses and kids, were at Mom and Dad’s for Mom’s birthday. We were plowing through a typical Dean spread—chips, dip, cupcakes, cake and ice cream.

Mom and Dad were on the sofa, where they sat so often the cushions had permanent indents. None of us was what you’d call skinny. But watching everyone, myself included, polish off slabs of cake, I suddenly realized “not skinny” was the understatement of the year.

The real word for us was "fat." Not fatter than most people we knew—65 percent of Nebraskans are overweight—but fat nonetheless. Out of shape. Nowhere near the vigorous people God created us to be.

We’d tried to lose weight. But something was missing. Something I was still feeling my way toward that evening when, on impulse, I blurted, “Hey, listen up! We need to have a family meeting.”

Conversation stopped and everyone turned to look at me, their eyes puzzled.

“Um,” I said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, guys, but, well, I think we need to talk—about our weight.” The room got quiet. “Look, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. We’re the closest family anyone could ask for. We talk about everything—except this one issue.

"Look at us. I’m at least 30 pounds overweight. Jeremy’s more than twice that. And the girls are always yo-yo dieting. Dad’s diabetic, and he and Mom can hardly get on the floor to play with their grandkids. But we never talk about it.

"I can’t believe I’m bringing it up now. If it wasn’t for a TV show I’ve been watching, I’d probably still keep quiet.”

“TV show?” someone asked tentatively.

“Yeah, The Biggest Loser. You guys have seen it. You probably remember me making fun of it, all those personal trainers and tailored diets. But I realized something. The show does have the key to losing weight. It’s just not what they say it is.” Everyone leaned forward.

“It’s accountability,” I went on. “The reason people on that show lose weight is because they know that if they sneak downstairs to gorge on brownies at midnight, the whole world will know. They don’t want to let the audience down.

"Here’s what I think. What if we became each other’s audience? Dieted together? Held each other accountable? We talk every day. Why can’t we use our closeness to lose weight? I’m sick of being fat. I want to be healthy. Don’t you think we could do it if we all did it together?”

There was a moment of stunned silence. I knew what everyone was thinking. Dieting for the Deans would mean unlearning eating habits formed way back when Mom, feeding a big family on a small income, had fallen back on a fattening diet of fried chicken, pizza, ice cream and snacks.

We liked eating that way. Heck, most people we knew liked eating that way. Giving it up would be painful.

I sketched out a plan I’d been concocting, all about daily exercise and monitoring each other’s calories and nutrition. Before I finished, excited voices began drowning out my words. “Of course!” cried my sister Julie. “Why didn’t we think of it before?” “I love it,” said Jeremy.

Suddenly, Dad’s voice cut in. “That sounds nice, Tony. But the holidays are coming up. Don’t you think we should wait till after? I don’t want to miss my cherry pie.” Dad loved his cherry pie.