“Work Out” Recaps: Episode 3.2 “SkyLab 2.0”


Next, it’s off to the

hydrostatic body fat weigh in. Everyone dons bathing suits and goes in the dunk

tank to see who can displace the most water and still retain a shred of dignity.

This year, SkyLab has

some added features. Dr. Robert Huizenga, a weight-loss expert, has been

brought in to bring some gravitas to the show. He’s a doctor, not a miracle

worker! Using highly sophisticated equipment, he takes what look like sonograms

of everyone. Aw. Congratulations. It’s cellulite.

More evaluations — The doctor tells Jackie that SkyLabber Tyra is

going to be a tough case. She not only has layers of fat, she has a lot of visceral

fat that surrounds her organs and is “marbled” throughout her

intestines. I may never eat steak again.

Tyra tells Jackie why she’s

gained so much weight.

Tyra: Most of the weight I’ve gained

was after Hurricane Katrina. The stress of just trying to get your life back

together, and still trying.

Jackie: So, did you live right


Tyra: Yeah. My husband is still back

there, working on our home. Slowly.

Jackie: So the stress, sort of,

triggered an eating pattern with you?

Tyra: Yeah.

Hurricane Katrina made

her fat. What department of FEMA handles that, exactly? Jackie’s strategy for

Tyra is to make her take care of herself. Jackie, you’re doing a helluva a


SkyLab client Damon looks

at his scale results and proclaims himself a “linebacker,” which is

the manly, more flattering way of saying, “I’m fat!”

Women should have the

same naming conventions. Instead of calling women “fat,” they should

be called “opera singers.”

Jackie says Damon’s sense

of humor has evolved into fat jokes about himself.

Damon: So, when I got chubby, all of a

sudden my friends would be like, “Oh, dude, I got this girl for you,”

and I’d be like, “Really, oh great. Hook me up,” and she’d be like

this chubby girl, and I’d be like, “Dude, my eyes didn’t get fat!”

I thought I knew the

definition of self-deprecation, but I guess I don’t.

Damon is, of course,

within his inalienable rights to expect to date nice-looking, thin women, no

matter how fat he gets. The Flintstone-Kramdon Law, perhaps you’ve heard of it?