OK, I'm trying it again.
When folks at work were searching for enough willing bodies to have a Weight Watchers group, I rolled my eyes. Here we go again, I thought.
The last time we had a work group I quit about half-way through even though the set fees continued to leave my checking account.
But 15 people were needed for the group to get off the ground this time, so I agreed. It wasn't that I didn't need to lose weight. Lord knows I do. It's just that I'm weak. If I see a piece of chess pie, I fall off the wagon and then roll around in fatty foods until my next attempt.
At least this time, the meetings got under way during Lent, when I had promised to abstain from sugar. I may not be able to give up chess pie on my own, but I will as my rather superficial sacrifice to God.
Failure is looming, however. I have already told my dieting comrades that the weigh-in after Easter will not be pretty. I am going to find something sweet to eat and try to set up house in it. If it is a box of Girl Scout cookies, then the entire box will be mine. If it is cake, my family will have to share one half. The rest is mine.
I will also try to eat as many deviled eggs as I can cram into my mouth.
Those were my thoughts until I saw Charles Barkley. No, not the Barkley we all see on TV serving as a basketball analyst; not even the slimmed-down Barkley who has been the spokesperson for Weight Watchers for several months.
The Barkley I saw was a bit more frightening. In order to get more men to join the Weight Watchers program, Barkley donned a sleeveless, v-neck black dress, similar to one that Jennifer Hudson would have been proud to wear in a much smaller size. He also wore a long wig, heels, makeup and jewelry.
The reason the commercial, which will premiere on April 8, was so scary is because I believe I could fit into that dress. And look good in it, too.
I then realized I was comparing myself to a man who weighs about 300 pounds.
Barkley said he ballooned up to 350 pounds, adding about 100 pounds after he retired from the NBA in 2000.
"The doctor said, 'Hey dude, if you don't lose some weight you're either going to get diabetes, have a stroke or drop dead. It's either A, B or C,'" Barkley told a reporter for Game On.
"There's no excuse for me being 100 pounds overweight. That's just me being lazy," he said. "I only ate rice, corn and potatoes, which are clearly starches. People don't get fat eating fruits and vegetables."
Not only could Barkley and I dress alike, we also share the same doctor and food choices.
Since joining the program last fall, Barkley has lost 42 pounds. He wants men to give the program a try, and he wants people from his home state of Alabama to join because of the obesity rate there. According to the Centers for Disease Control, Alabama and Kentucky are almost neck-and-neck in obesity rates among adults and incidents of diabetes.
That is yet another thing Barkley and I have in common.
I'm not fond of our being that connected. In fact, chess pie is not looking as tempting any more. But I still have more work to do to see deviled eggs in a less tasty way.
Maybe I need to watch that commercial a few more times until it becomes an appetite suppressant.