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Kopol vs. Topol
Battle of the bulge: Champion
Parts (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6)

August 5, 2002
The Iranian

Nouvelle diet
By Siamack Salari

When I used to work at J Walter Thompson (London-based US advertising agency) I shared a very skinny secretary with a few other colleagues. She had a habit of coming into my office at around 3 in the afternoon and saying: "I have been so busy I forgot to eat..."

I would look at her in amazement. This was an alien concept to me. How could anyone forget to eat? I ask you again: how can ANYONE simply forget to eat? I have never once in all of my 37 years "forgotten" to eat. I have, on many occasions forgotten that I have already eaten but I have never forgotten to eat.

In fact, as recently as last Friday, I got home from a meeting at 4 in the afternoon and headed straight for the fridge. As I was cutting up some cold meat to create one of my Scooby Snacks, I remembered that I had eaten lunch with a client only two hours before.

It was one of those "nouvelle cuisine" lunches. When it first arrived I thought my plate was dirty but then I realised that the crumbs of meat and two drops of sauce in the centre were actually the minimalist meal I had just ordered.

But this is all just delaying what I inevitably have to tell you. See video

I have failed to beat Jahanshah in this competition. I have failed spectacularly and worst of all I have failed the one lovely reader who offered to sponsor me for every pound or kilogram I lost.

To begin with all was going well. I started jogging. I bought myself an MP3 player. I even cut down my carbs. But then disaster struck: I broke our scales. The new scales read my weight wrongly and suddenly I was in a fat man's "Weighlight Zone".

Perhaps one day they will make a Twilight Zone episode about my scales and me. It will be called (rather chillingly don't you think?): "Scales". I will play the lead as the guy who finally has a nervous breakdown because he loses lots of weight but his scales refuse to tell him the truth.

My wife Varinder simply looks at me and shakes her head. She feels angry but she also feels pity. I, in turn, feel guilty which only strengthens my resolve to lose weight and prove everyone wrong.

As I type I can see the slimmer me running along the beach towards Varinder who is running towards me in a gorgeous evening dress. Both of us have our arms outstretched. As I get closer I realise that it's not V after all but Britney Spears in a slinky bikini and top.

I pick up speed. As she gets even closer I realise it is Farrah Fawcette who is wearing nothing at all...

I just had to get a glass of cold water to drink and am still rubbing my eyes to remove the wrinkled up image I have conjured up.

So here is my punishment: I would like to invite any reader to suggest a penance or forfeit. Jahanshah may choose his favourite one and I will do it whatever it is. However, it can't be rude or illegal. But it can be degrading. It can even involve travelling or be a dare of some kind - unless it is an extremely rude dare.

For example I refuse to wave my private parts out of the window at our elderly next-door neighbours (I shudder at the thought of the inevitable "Usual Suspects" style police line-up to identify whose private parts it was) and under no circumstances will I run down Twickenham High Street wearing only my jogging shoes (still as new).

Finally, you may be wondering how much weight I lost. The answer is 4 pounds. Please forgive me. See video (same as bove)

Global meltdown
By Jahanshah Javid

I feel cheated.

When I started running for this diet thing I chose the most convenient spot. I ran around the block.

It's pleasant enough. Mostly residential. Nice trees and colorful gardens. I imagined I could do ten laps around here. Ten is a nice number. Double digits. Makes me feel like I've actually exercised.

Well, many weeks later I discovered that I actually WAS exercising quite a bit. I drove my car around the bloc and it showed the distance was 0.47 miles. Multiply that by ten and you get 4.7 miles. That's not fair.

I thought I was only running 2 miles. If I knew it was more than 4 miles, I would have ran only five times around the block. It would have saved me a lot of torture.

However, that torture has done me good.

At the end of the competition on July 18, I weighed 182 pounds -- 16 pounds less than when I started. Do you know how much 16 pounds is? My pants are falling, as filmed by my daughter Mahdiyeh. A few more pounds and I'm going into modeling. (You need QuickTime to see and hear. It's free).

Yes my friends. Sixteen pounds is a lot of fat. It's a ton of fat. And now I need to lose at least another ton.

I haven't gained anything since July 18, but I've been bad many times. I just finished half a pint of Godiva's ice cream ("Chocolate WITH Chocolate Hearts"). Now I'm ready for round two -- of the race.

Yes folks! The diet race will continue and in this round, anyone can participate. Every week email your article and photos and write about your diet. In two months, we'll see who did the best.

I would like to thank Siamack for being such a great competitor. I'm sure he'll do MUCH better in the next round. (V! Feel free to kick his butt on my behalf whenever necessary.)

And last but not least I would like to thank My Lord Jesus Christ for giving me the strength to go through this arduous race and publish something as mundane as this at a time when we are on the verge of global meltdown.

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By Siamack Salari
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