---

The common conception that many people, me included, have regarding Weight Watchers is this; it’s weight loss plain and simple. On hearing my girlfriend and my mother discussing its virtues I decided to give it a go. To my surprise I discovered it is in fact a lot more than what it says on the tin.

I went to my first meeting on Abbey Street on a wintry Wednesday night. I was assured by many that there would be plenty of men in attendance.

Were they right? Not a fellow man in sight. I was mildly embarrassed to say the least. I was attempting to be as discreet as possible. The lady who was taking my details had other ideas as she said quite loudly, “speak up please.” My cover was blown.

I timidly shuffled to my seat and the paranoia was the worst that I had ever experienced. It must have been obvious to a few in the room. As I was going past one middle aged woman, she whispered “fair play to you love.”

Little did I know that I was about to embark on one of the strangest hours of my life.

The meeting spokesperson, Barbara, was a nutritionist, motivator and counsellor all rolled into one. Any newcomers from the previous week were asked to put up their hands. Eileen, a young girl, possibly in her late teens, was selected first.

“Eileen, how did your week go?” Barbara asked with a broad smile. “Barbara I’m very pleased. I lost 5 pounds,” responded Eileen. Her delight was obvious. A round of applause rang out around the room. I thought to myself “this is what an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting would be like.”

Then it dawned on me. It was an addiction help group, except this was a group of people who had come to combat their addiction with food and unhealthy lifestyles as opposed to drugs, alcohol or gambling.

The meeting ended after an hour. I was about to embark on my first week of the plan. As a 25 year old fella who has, thankfully, never had to worry about weight, this was the first time in my life where I had to really watch my food. I was surprisingly anxious about it all.

The first two days were hellish to say the least. The canteen in college was probably the most difficult hurdle to get over. Walking by the smell of sausages, bacon and black pudding knowing I couldn’t have any of them. Instead I went to the healthy counter. Banana? Apple? Muesli?

These were hardly foods which were going to get my mouth watering. I went for a black coffee and a bowl of mixed fruit and ate it away from the gaze of the full-irish brigade sitting around me. Lunch wasn’t nearly as tough.

It was an opportunity to fill my wrap with salads and get my ‘5 a day’ in at one sitting. No mayo though, or sauce of any kind for that matter.

My hope was that the lunch would last me up until dinner time where I would indulge myself with a huge feed to set me through the night. It worked, but only just. My walk home consists of passing by a copious amount of fast food restaurants en route to the bus. Not a pleasant experience when hunger is taking over.

After dinner, the real battle began. Sitting watching mindless television in an attempt to unwind was usually my time for some chocolate and crisps. Not anymore. The more I tried to forget about nice things the more I wanted them. Each Pringles or Nestle ad was tempting me to gorge myself on their delights. Bed time came and still I was thinking about food. Surely I couldn’t allow food to rule my mind this much?

Perhaps I was wrong to previously dismiss people who moan about the difficulty of diets as merely lacking in self discipline. The pattern continued for the rest of the week.

As I got more used to it I realised this wasn’t going to be a period of hunger pains and stomach rumbles. In fact it was anything but. It was just going to be a healthy week.

On Saturday night, Heineken and doner kebabs were replaced by Coors Light and home cooked spaghetti bolognese.

The Sunday morning fry changed to a walk in the park and a poached egg on my return. By Monday I could feel my body adapting to the change. It was almost time for the dreaded weigh in. I decided not to cheat and ate as normal throughout the day.

My nerves before the result were as bad as before any exam or football game I’d played. Then came the news, “Diarmuid, well done, you’ve lost 6 pounds.”  I was ecstatic and proud of myself. So proud that I decided to skip across to Burger King on O’Connell Street and treat myself to the XL Big King meal. After all, I deserved it right? Wrong.

The taste of 1000 calories was after opening my mind up to something I had almost forgotten in the past week. On the bus home I took out my Weight Watchers manual to read about week 2. The first thing that jumped out of the page was the following “If, after week 1, you have lost weight DO NOT go back to bad habits when you leave the meeting.”

I needed to regain my focus. I was going to have the same battles in my second week as I did in my first. 

I maintained my attendance at the meetings for 10 weeks. Good weeks followed bad, and in the end, I lost 7 pounds. There was still no sign of any men apart from myself which was a pity as I could have done with moral support during one discussion about a woman’s ‘time of the month’.

Perhaps the thing I will take stock of most from my experience is that it is not all just a fad diet. I certainly have learned a lot from this programme that will stand by me in years to come.

I would fully recommend it to anyone, male or female. For the next while though, it’s back to the Heino and the doner kebabs.

After all, I deserve a treat.

diarmuid_ger@hotmail.com