'Biggest Loser' winner now his firm's 'wellness ambassador'

For Bill Germanakos, the defining moment came two years ago when he tried to stuff his 334 pounds into the front seat of the roller coaster at Great Adventure.

He and his daughter waited in line for an hour to get the front seat, but when the attendant tried to shove the restraining bar across the 50-inch tire that was Germanakos' waist, it just didn't work.

"What are we waiting for, another fat guy?" jeered one of the other riders, as Germanakos and his daughter made the long and humiliating walk down the platform and out the exit.

Does Germanakos' name seem familiar?

He was a winner last year on The Biggest Loser, NBC's hit reality weight-loss show. Germanakos dropped to 170 pounds and beat out his twin brother, John, a police officer.

Now, Bill Germanakos is a weight-loss evangelist.

Germanakos, 42, was the keynote speaker last week at Delaware Valley Human Resources Partnership's annual summit at the Philadelphia Marriott, where 500 area human resources officials gathered to discuss, among other topics, weight-loss and other wellness programs in the workplace.

Last year, he was sweating off pounds in the desert. This year, he is being trotted out by his company, Quest Diagnostics Inc., of Madison, N.J., to sell its services, including wellness programs.

Now, Quest calls him a "Wellness Ambassador."

In the fat old days, Germanakos, a top Quest salesman, made his living selling tests that measured medical benchmarks for good health, blood pressure, blood sugar, cholesterol.

These days, wellness is the buzzword in employee benefits. According to an employee health-benefits survey last month by the respected Kaiser Family Foundation and the Health Research and Educational Trust, more companies are pinning their hopes on wellness and disease-management programs to stabilize ever-increasing health insurance costs.

Four out of five large companies - those employing more than 200 - see disease-management programs as the most effective way to contain costs. Eighty-eight percent offer at least one wellness program, and nearly half offer weight-loss programs.

Ironically, Germanakos had to leave his job at Quest and pay his family's insurance through COBRA, in order to retreat to the desert to lose weight on TV.

"They didn't have a reality-show leave," he quipped.

At the Marriott on Friday, Germanakos described a regime so grueling that a Medivac helicopter thrummed overhead while contestants ran in the hot sun. "I used to pray that lightning would strike us," he said, standing next to a life-size cardboard cutout of his old self.

"I like to call this guy At-Risk Bill," Germanakos said.

Fred Williams, a human resources manager at Quest Diagnostics, introduced Germanakos at the Philadelphia event by describing the company's wellness programs for its own 43,5000 employees.

The voluntary program begins with an assessment. Each employee picks a nickname to shield his or her identity, such as Leafy Lettuce, or Hot Tomato - an adjective followed by a fruit or vegetable.

Monthly weigh-ins, with the results posted by nickname, follow lots of education. In one year, Williams said, 1,847 employees lost 8,404 pounds.

But the not-so-big-anymore motivator is Germanakos himself, now back up to 204 pounds.

"I'm comfortable with that weight," he said, as he snacked on an apple and a chocolate-covered pretzel, sprinkled with jimmies.

He spends a couple of hours a day in the gym.

What used to aggravate him the most, he said, was when well-meaning coworkers, friends and clients would point out that he was gaining weight.

"Oh," he'd reply, sarcastically, to himself, "I don't dress myself, I don't buy my own clothes - I would have never noticed if you didn't tell me."

These days, he's not surprised that corporations have good intentions, but mixed results, when it comes to wellness programs.

"I look at a lot of corporate gyms," he said. They'll have the equipment, but no showers and no lockers. "That's a major impediment."

What works better are lots of smaller incentives.

At Quest, for example, employees used to pay $5.99 a pound at the salad bar. Now it costs $1.99. "The company is actually subsidizing healthy eating," he said.

Bringing in a group trainer can be effective. If companies give workers an extra half-hour at lunch to be used for exercise, that can also help, he said.

In the end, though, it has to be personal. He talked about his father, overweight and dead at age 57.

"I would be the guy," he said, "that had a bowl of cereal and would not put down the spoon until the box was empty."

On the TV show, trainers, nutritionists and psychologists helped him get to the physical and mental roots of his obesity.

Germanakos said he used to enjoy watching The Biggest Loser. "I would watch it as I ate my chips and salsa."

The audience laughed.

He's laughing, too. Shortly after the final episode aired in December, he landed an awesome perk - going to the Super Bowl with his brother to watch their beloved Giants play.

"We were hanging with these football players, and they were asking for my autograph. Hall of Fame receivers! I said, 'OK.'

"I was living the dream."