When it comes to the battle of the bulge, I hadn’t seen the extent of male/female rivalry until I found myself in the middle of another couple’s weigh-in/domestic dispute.

“Come on, darling…I guarantee it. You lose twenty pounds, and you’ll get all the power in our relationship.” My friend’s husband steels a look at me and continues. “Deal of the century; lose twenty and you’re the ultimate Boss.”

When my girlfriend doesn’t move, I jump in as her self-appointed agent. “So for twenty pounds, she gets supreme reign? You’re her virtual slave?”

He holds out his hand for a shake and I pounce on it like Porky Pig on a Pop Tart. I turn on her. “That’s not a bad deal, girlfriend… shake on it! Think about the future. Think about football season!” I do a little show-me-the-money dance. She isn’t amused.

“Hah!” she snorts. “What about him? I’ll lose twenty as long as he loses twenty first.”

He gives the thumbs up and we shake on it. When he heads for the treadmill, I pull her aside.

“You know he’s going to lose the weight. He’s exercising five days a week. Can you say ‘Pilates’? Can you say ‘Cardio Boot Camp’?”

“Hmmph,” She smiles wickedly, donut in hand. “I figure I’ve got at least a year. Last night I put a whole pound of butter in his macaroni and tomorrow he’s getting whipped cream in his power shake.”

My eyeballs bulge. “You didn’t!”

“I did.”

So tell me… has the fat fighting battlefield turned so bloody that we’re willing to sabotage our own husbands for the sake of a win? It’s not that I can’t sympathize. The day after I quit smoking, twenty pounds somehow attached itself to my unsuspecting midriff. Try strutting that on the public runway next to a gym monkey husband. There’s only so much comparison a woman can take. That being said, accidentally losing the key to my husband’s treadmill is one thing. Putting a pound of fat in his KD hadn’t even crossed my mind.

So, being an outspoken opponent of anything that might make me sweat, I decide to take the bulge dilemma to the local gym.

“Tell me,” I say to the personal trainer, “are couples really competitive in getting fit? And who’s more competitive… men?” I bat my eyes. “I would think men, right? That testosterone thing?”

He shakes his head. “Nope, can’t say I’ve seen couples being really competitive. If anything, they motivate each other; push each other on. Often they come in and work out together. It’s great to have a partner when working out.”

I feel guilt welling inside me like this morning’s chocolate cake. “So there’s no barbell brawls? No couples tripping each other up on the circuit?”

He frowns so I try a new approach. “Well, what about this… you have to admit that it’s much easier for a man to lose weight than a woman. Every man I know loses weight faster than his wife.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, but it really is the same process in both men and women. Yes, men could have more muscle mass which might account for a higher metabolic rate…”

Aha! That’s it! I knew those boys were working at a big, fat advantage. It’s a huge metabolic conspiracy. Men have the fat burning elixir and I’ve gotta get me some.

“So what do you suggest for a wife who wants to beat her husband in the battle of the bulge?” I ask.

“Consistency is key. Lots of low intensity cardio for long durations and a good diet. Weight training for women is important too,” he adds. “You’ve got to build that muscle mass. Just think how powerful you’ll feel.”

Powerful?

So, maybe my friends are on to something. I head home to play ‘Let’s Make a Deal’ with my husband. Kicking his butt in lower fat percentage is one thing, but give this girl a shot at power? In golf season? Not even kryptonite could stop me at that!