Calorie Chronicles: Jenny Craig

The first time I ever saw Kirstie Alley was on the 80’s miniseries North and South. She played Virgilia, a beautiful and fervent activist of human rights, a literal Cassandra of her times, and was the most exciting character in the series by far.

My family and I watched North and South religiously, never missing an episode, running back to the TV after commercial breaks if we heard that fiery voice on the speakers. “Go, Virgilia!” we cheered, as she triumphantly defied her family to run off with the African slave, escaping the Main family plantation in the dead of night.

Boy, were we ever sad when she was hung. I’ll assume everyone else was too; the show was never the same after that.

Kirstie’s career had its ups and downs after North and South, the most notable up as Rebecca in Cheers, and even though her acting hasn’t reached a high point in eons, she’s certainly not hurting for publicity these days. We see her all the time, you and I, dancing her way across our TV screens as the spokeswoman and living success of Jenny Craig.

She looks fantastic, a far cry from her Fat Actress days, all sumptuous and sexy and flirty with the young bucks. How many pounds has she lost now, 75 and counting? It’s an astronomical number on those lines that not only adds to the presence Kirstie always had, but makes her virtually unnoticeable. She now commands attention in true goddess form.

Recently, I caught my dad watching Kirstie at her finest in a slinky black dress, and he said, “Son of a bitch. She looks amazing.”

That she does. But dad, she’s not just a regular client of Jenny Craig. She’s also an ad campaign.

My own experience with Jenny Craig started almost a decade ago when I was 22, far before Kirstie Alley ever tried it, or was even fat to begin with. I’d just gotten back from Europe, and was on the comedown from the summer of eating disorders. I’d lost a lot through starving, exercising and puking, then gained it back being a normal human being, which left me right back where I’d started. Fat girl. Needing to lose. Lots of weight.

Why the Jenny Craig diet? Because it was everywhere. On television, billboards, newspapers, magazines, brochures dropped in the mailbox, and that catchy tune playing endlessly on every radio station known to man:

Dial one-eight-hundred
Ninety-four Jenny
That’s one-eight-hundred
Ninety-four Jenny.

It was safe to say that in the late nineties, at least on my corner of the earth, Jenny Craig had the weight-loss market in a handbag. That and their advertised claim of safe, supervised weight loss on the tastiest food possible had me sold. After that terrible summer the primary thoughts in my head were, I need to lose weight sensibly. I need reprogramming.

I signed myself up that September, tying in with the beginning of my fourth year at university, and threw myself into the Jenny Craig plan. It was easy, really, mostly because Jenny Craig was the only diet program I ever went on where the food was provided. Sure you had to buy the stuff, but it made mealtimes guesswork free, and 100% idiot proof.

The amounts are small but you’re eating between six and eight times per day, so you’re rarely ever hungry. And, the food is delicious – Kirstie ain’t lying about that. Chocolate, pasta, sauces and grilled meats, all in polite little amounts, served up in cellophane wrappers, or microwaveable black plastic containers. I remember my favourite was the blueberry pancakes, and I made sure to get plenty of those whenever I went to the center for visit, and once a week groceries trip.

My starting weight at Jenny Craig was 218, if I’m not mistaken, and during my time there I managed to get down to a little below 200. Then, I left.

Why? If the program is so easy, if you just eat what’s in front of you, if you’re losing weight and all that jazz, why stop?

Reason #1: Ta ta, social life. All meals are provided on the Jenny Craig diet, as in ALL meals, so a lot of “Sorry, not tonight,” and, “Maybe next time” are doled out to friends while you sit at home, microwaveable dinner perched on your lap.

Reason #2: Eat at least one supplement bar every single day. Sure they taste great, but tell me how you feel after a couple of months.

Reason #3: Cha-ching. There was barely a time where I walked out of the JC centre with less than a $100 bill of groceries for that week. Couple that with

Reason #4: Exceedingly slow weight loss. When you’re paying that much money to lose one pound a week, one pound a week, one pound a week and one pound a week, it starts to wear on your nerves and dimes. The first few weeks were great, I was dropping all kinds of great numbers, but that eventually trickled down to single numbers and even ounces.

I know weight loss is supposed to be slow. But if I can lose one pound per week stuffing myself with all their food, can’t I just lose one pound per week doing my own thing?

Jenny Craig and me didn’t last. I was young, I wanted to go out with my friends, and I was really, really, REALLY sick of supplement bars. I trickled myself off the diet, and watched every single pound I’d lost fly back on with a quickness.

I thought that strange. I mean, if you lose weight slowly, isn’t it supposed to stay off? Of all the programs, diets, fads, anything I’ve ever done (with the exception of the eating disorders, naturally), I lost weight the slowest with Jenny Craig, but gained it back the fastest. It’s a great mystery.

I highly doubt Kirstie will be gaining any weight back though, and if she does she’ll be years away from the Jenny Craig diet. Being an ad campaign, I’m willing to bet they’ve invested *plenty* into Kirstie’s success, and thrown in all kinds of extras to boot. You may get your microwave portions on the Jenny Craig plan, but the trainers and stylists are extra. I’m almost positive.

What did I learn with Jenny Craig? A few things, actually.

While many people have successfully lost weight on this program and happily kept it off, I am not one of them. All diets are not created equal, and this one was not made for me.

Losing weight doesn’t have to taste like shit.

And last, but never least, I never want to see a supplement bar again for the rest of my natural born life.