Ingest this excerpt from Jen Lancaster's Such a Pretty Fat: One Narcissist's Quest to Discover If Her Life Makes Her Ass Look Big, Or Why Pie Is Not the Answer (NAL, 2008)


JEN LANCASTER WAS A PUBLISHED AUTHOR, BLOGGER (JENNSYLVANIA.COM) AND ANTI-DIETING EVERYWOMAN WHEN SHE EMBARKED ON A DOCTOR-PRESCRIBED QUEST TO DROP 22 KILOGRAMS. IT'S A SMART AND GUT-BUSTINGLY FUNNY READ.

A year and a half ago, the only healthy thing about me was my self-esteem, and that was just because I was delusional. I chose to believe that stopping to rest three or four times while carrying laundry up a flight of stairs was the norm. I convinced myself that the waistband on everyone's pants dug in so hard it left deep purple ridges. And who cared if I was fat anyway? I'd written a best-selling book, I had a happy marriage, and my hair looked fabulous. I was living life on my terms - even if those terms included eating a birthday cake for dinner.

Then my doctor handed me a weight-related death sentence that shocked me into action. Afraid that even looming morbidity wouldn't give me the gumption to pass up a cupcake, I sold a book proposal about trying to lose 22 kilos. Granted, I needed to lose more than that, but I figured it was a start. Then I did what any intelligent, well-informed woman would do in order to gain control over her weight: I turned to fad diets. Because the faster the numbers on the scale went down, the quicker I'd get healthy. Right?

Not quite. Low-carb meals sapped me of my energy and my sanity. (A billboard advertising a new brand of spaghetti does not cause a normal person to burst into tears in the middle of rush-hour traffic.) A near-starvation diet of 5000 kilojoules a day stalled my metabolism. And a dieter's tea I bought online - well, you don't even want to know what transpired in the bathroom after I drank that. Finally, I joined a diet centre, where every meal was served with a heaping portion of guilt. I sat through group meetings, silently seething when members talked about the evils of food. I knew food wasn't the enemy - I mean, we need food to live. Demonising something that sustains life seemed even dumber than eating cake for dinner.

Sure, I lost a few kilos, but nowhere near enough. I still felt lousy, and now I felt like a failure, too. So I did the unthinkable: I hired a trainer and made healthy, practical changes to what and how I ate.

Silly as the fads were, they each taught me something. Consuming more lean protein - this time with plenty of fruits and vegies - helped me feel satisfied. I had an idea how many kilojoules were in most foods. Maybe best of all, the diet centre taught me portion control. When I began to pay attention to the glycaemic index and swap processed flour for wholegrains, my energy went through the roof.

Exercise was harder. Three days a week, I dragged myself to the gym to meet my trainer, Barbie (yes, Barbie). She put me through a gruelling set of exercises as I sweated, swore and fantasised about punching her in the face. I might have, too, if I'd been able to lift my arms.

After my workouts, I'd wobble home on jelly legs and cry. I hated every second of them. Until I started to like them. It took the entire summer to realise I couldn't live without them.

I finished writing my book, but I still work out with Barbie. The only difference is, our sessions last an hour and a half, and if I've got the time, I'll do more cardio afterwards.

As far as birthday cake goes, I still eat it. But now I'm pretty confident I can stop at a single slice.

THREE WISE MENTIONS
Tips from some of our fave weight-loss books

1 Eat food, not snacks, says Mimi Spencer, author of 101 Things to do Before you Diet (Doubleday). "If you can pick it, dip it, pop it -do yourself a favour. Drop it."

2 Think (for the long-term) before you eat,says Teresa Cutter, WH food expert and author of80/20 Diet (Murdoch Books). "Do you want that fat to be part of your cells tomorrow?"

3 Ask yourself the tough questions, says Bob Greene, author of The Best Life Diet (Simon & Schuster). "Why do you want to lose weight? Why are you overweight?