Big challenge

I have a new guilty pleasure. Emphasis on the "guilty," given my longstanding hatred of all entertainment which includes the word "reality" as a descriptor.

You guessed it. My new guilty pleasure is a TV show. A TV reality show. Shameful.

Let me begin with the obligatory statement of innocence. I just happened to turn on the TV as I was, um, doing some housecleaning (who me?! I never lay around lazily watching TV), when I got sucked into the first show of Shaq's Big Challenge.

The premise: Shaquille O'Neal helps six overweight kids, ages 11 to 14, lose weight, become active and adopt a healthier lifestyle. (Like most successful show these days it is modeled after Unfit Kids, a British program with Arsenal superstar Ian Wright.

The kids are not just pudgy, they are obese -- some are "morbidly obese." Especially tragic is Walter (age 14, 285 pounds), who just about breaks your heart with his utter nerdiness and quirky (or, as the doctor called it, "infantile") behavior.

My favorite is Kevin, the only kid to manage a few push-ups in the presidential fitness test that Shaq required (all the kids failed -- no surprise). And, as Walter struggled, and I mean struggled, through the mandatory mile-run (read: run/walk) for the fitness test, Kevin ran on to the track to join last-place Walter and encourage him through the last lap. Cue to the empty tissue box currently next to the couch.

OK, the show has its flaws. Shaq does seems like he's acting sometimes (but some of his off-the-cuff comments are hilarious). And his musclehead physician/trainer is hard to watch; his every word and gesture seem contrived. Not to mention the expectation that the kids be self-motivated enough to work out at the gym on their own 5 days a week. (What?! How many adults are that committed?!)

Anyway, I know where I'll be next Tuesday night. Sedentary on my couch, watching a TV show about fitness.