Gut check

I WAS, it seemed, the only person on board my flight to Las Vegas not giddy with anticipation.

No debauchery for me — at least not this week. Instead, I’d signed up for seven ascetic days of sweat, tears, dieting and Bengay at The Biggest Loser Resort at Fitness Ridge in Ivins, Utah, a two-hour drive from Sin City.

Lured by the natural beauty and mystique of southern Utah, the beer-gut-busting promises of The Biggest Loser brand, not to mention my lifelong dream of going to fat camp, I’d relinquished all self-determination.

In return, I got six hours of exercise and 1,200 calories every day for a week.

Those Biggest Loser people mean business.

“I will confiscate popcorn,” announces guest services manager Denae Bunnell, by way of welcome.

Bunnell wasn’t kidding. Once, she warned us, she’d found a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup wrapper wedged between a set of free weights; the campus was put on lockdown. Every room was searched.

For people like me who have zero self-restraint, even less willpower and a non-existent desire to exercise, The Biggest Loser Resort is a no-brainer way to shed pounds fast. Tucked away in a tiny desert town, miles away from food courts, buffets, movie popcorn and cocktail bars, guests at the resort do as they’re told and eat what they’re given.

Executive chef Cameron Payne, who trained at Le Cordon Bleu and worked for Wolfgang Puck, cooks up 1,200 surprisingly delicious, non-dairy, non-red meat calories each day comprised of lean protein, soy, vegetables and whole grains. Fruits are provided for snacking. Alcohol and caffeine are verboten — some veteran resort-goers and long-term guests hide coffee machines in their rooms.

Anyone who’s ever watched “The Biggest Loser” on NBC (Season 9 premieres tonight at 8pm) knows the television series puts a premium on exercise. Resort guests will not be disappointed.

The first morning started light, with circuit training orientation at 6 a.m. After a protein-packed frittata and soy cheese breakfast, we bundled into our outdoor gear for the resort’s trademark “Stop Sign” hike, a 4.9-mile uphill, 4.9- mile downhill trek that guests do every Monday and Saturday — the paved hike is timed and charted to measure improvement in strength and stamina.

From what I could gather, long-term guests aim to make it to the top in under an hour.

I got there in 1 hour, 16 minutes. To be honest, after the first half hour, I pretty much wanted to die. Even though we were outdoors in the brisk, clear open air, I could barely breathe. I was sweating like a crazed animal and my calf muscles burned. The only thing that kept me going was being surrounded by dozens of people who were all doing exactly the same thing, feeling exactly the same way (crappy). Partly motivated by pride, partly by peer pressure, three hours and nine miles later, I felt awesome.

“No one ever says, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’” says John Yohman, an LA transplant who leads hikes and teaches fitness and dance classes at the resort.

Sure, during each day’s four post-hike hours of classes — circuit training, intervals, pool, kickboxing, core, interrupted briefly by lunch and a nutrition lecture — limbs might turn to Jell-O and collapse might seem imminent. But a full day of intense workouts doesn’t just build muscle — it builds character. And the camaraderie of surviving the experience alongside dozens of people working toward the same goal is indescribable.

The stories are amazing. There was the Norwegian guy who told his family he was traveling around the world for six months, came to the resort, dropped 100 pounds and went home with a brand new body. While I was there, one woman checked in — pet dog in tow — and swore she wouldn’t leave until she’d lost 100 pounds. An entrepreneur from Los Angeles was on the eighth week of a ten-week stretch. One man from New York had been there since September.

These people really want to lose weight. They want it so badly they’ve paid nearly $2,000 a week, taken leave from work and left their homes, family and friends. Isolated from real world obligations and responsibilities, surrounded by this vortex of at-any-cost, sheer force of will, I couldn’t help but be inspired.

In seven days, I lost eight pounds, five percent body fat and two inches off my waist.

While returning to daily life in New York has been incredibly challenging — I ate cheese on the first day back! — I know now that exercise probably won’t kill me and that it is possible to survive eating 1,200 calories a day.

And if I ever need a refresher course or a swift kick in the butt, The Biggest Loser Resort will always be there.

LOWDOWN

Where: The Biggest Loser Resort at Fitness Ridge is located in Ivins, Utah.

Cost: $1,595 per week for shared accommodation; $1,995 per week for a single room. Discounts available for longer stays, and pre-paid multi-week packages can be divided into multiple stays. Price includes room, board and classes. Excursions, spa treatments and off-campus programming at additional cost.

How to go: The resort will arrange a free pick-up from St. George Municipal airport (SGU), but Las Vegas’s McCarran airport (LAS) is just a two-hour ride away on the St. George Executive Shuttle ($35 each way; stgeorgeexecutiveshuttle.com).

Activities: Four- to nine-mile daily morning hikes and five scheduled cardio, strength-training, dance, aerobic, stretch or pool-based classes are offered throughout the course of the day. As are lectures on topics including nutrition, caloric budget, emotional eating and fitness.

Info: 888-870-2639 or check biggestloserresort.com for more information.

Around town: Guests can patronize a selection of movie theaters in town. The Outlets at Zion shopping center is a 20-minute drive away. There are no bars in Ivins, and there’s only one watering hole in nearby St. George — it’s called “The One and Only.” The resort runs a weekly bus to Target ($10 fee), but will check guest shopping bags for contraband.

Day trip: Heber Holm is a former member of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Since leaving the community in the mid-1970s, he’s run Polygamy Tours ($69.95 per person, polygamytours.com). Holm will pick you up in St. George and take you through Hildale, Utah, Colorado City, Ariz., and Centennial Park, Ariz., while explaining the history of the cult and his personal experiences with the community as well as candidly answering any questions guests may have. The tour ends with lunch at The Merry Wives’ Café in Centennial Park, which is owned and operated by an FLDS break-off sect called “The Work of Jesus Christ,” another polygamist community currently headed up by their prophet, John Timpson.