Cursing at My Wii Fit

I'm really only overweight if I'm 5'3". So I told the Wii Fit I was 5'4". Every inch of height allows you more poundage. I'm actually 5'3" ½ but the Wii Fit has no option for halves. I shouldn't have erred on the side on self-flattery. It would have motivated me more if my Wii avatar was chubby.

If you're overweight the game adds weight to your Wii avatar. My husband's Wii avatar is satisfyingly plump. My avatar, just inside the normal range of BMI by a tenth of a point, is absolutely adorable. (I gave her a beauty mark that I don't actually have and a much better haircut.) The avatars stand next to each other, and I feel smug when I see my husband's graph. I've exercised so much more than him! Of course, the scale has only gone down a little and I gave myself a ridiculous amount of time to lose 20 pounds.

I suppose I should explain a little about the Wii Fit experience for those of you still living in primitive caves not provided with internet and video game consoles. The Wii itself is unique because it's a much more active experience. I had fun with the Wii sports, so Wii Fit seemed like the next logical step.

First, you're weighed and measured by the Wii board, which acts like a scale and tracks your movement. It tells you where your BMI (Body Mass Index) is and what your weight is. (Don't take the Wii Fit age very seriously though, because it's based on a series of balance tests and your weight. Mine has varied from a depressing 43 to a heartening 25.)

You can exercise at whatever level you're comfortable with and Wii Fit makes it a game. Standing on the Wii board you can hula hoop, tight rope walk, ski jump, hit soccer balls with your head or engage in a round of boxing.

There are many, many exercises disguised as mini-games. I am bad at most of them, and quickly became obsessed with making my scores higher than my personal best or the record.

I gloat every time I beat my husband's score, blithely neglecting to mention that it took me 30 tries to beat his skiing score.