At 205 pounds, my childhood friend Jake promised: “Get under 155, I'll date you.” Then he bet $500 I couldn't—and laughed: “Half the pool spills out when she gets in.” I trained three months, dropped to 150, became viral Captain E. At the freshman mixer, I walked in wearing black. The room went silent. He begged, eyes red. I looked him up and down: “How tall are you? Got abs?” He froze. I smiled: “I'm surrounded by tall, hot, successful guys now. Go out with you? I'd be embarrassed.”
