When I lived in Brooklyn, N.Y., the borough's rotund mayor, Marty Markowitz, launched a program called "Lighten Up," which aimed to encourage residents to lose weight with him. There were weigh-in stations across the borough for weekly check-ins, and the neighborhood that collectively lost the most weight would appear on the Today Show. Since then, Lighten Up Brooklyn has turned into an annual program, made all the more important to its mayor, who had to undergo a stent procedure a couple of years ago because of heart problems.

It's pretty scary that the number of obese people has doubled since the 80s, and that more than 66 percent of adults are considered overweight. But even as our expanding waistlines are reaching epidemic proportions, I'm heartened by the idea that cities and neighborhoods are stepping in to help their residents fight the battle of the bulge.

The New York City government is going at the attack from the aspect of the city's restaurants — after all, New Yorkers eat out a lot. A few years ago, the city passed a regulation banning trans fats from being used in restaurant kitchens. And last year, the city ruled that certain types of restaurants (those that are part of a chain of 15 or more, or that have standardized food items) must post calorie contents on their menu boards or food wrappers. Hopefully you'll think twice if you know how many calories are in that bagel with a schmear of cream cheese.

Oklahoma City launched a program called "This City is Going on a Diet." Their goal? To lose one million pounds. There's an iPhone weight tracker app, scheduled runs, and a Web site with recipes and advice. The program began on December 31, 2007, and the 26,600-plus participants have lost more than 300,000 pounds. Not bad for a city in which Sonic Drive-In is headquartered.

Detroit, meanwhile, has a loftier goal: to lose 50 million pounds, and a ticker that's updated hourly reports that more than 3 million have been lost already.

So do these citywide weight loss program work? Oklahoma City's residents would answer with a resounding "yes" — the participants have lost an average of 11 pounds. (Then again, the city was just ranked the second fattest city by Men's Fitness magazine's annual survey of fittest and fattest cities. Even for nonparticipants, the collective mood and encouragement of a city motivated to get healthy can have a halo effect and spur its residents to take a hard look at their eating habits and the number they see when they step on the scale. Plus, there's strength, or at least inspiration, in numbers: that's why weight loss programs like Weight Watchers, in which members publicly weigh in each week, work.

I am guessing that as the obesity problems continue for Americans, more cities will rise to the occasion and try to help its denizens. So I say to the governments of some of the other fattest cities in the Men's Health survey (you know who you are, Miami, San Antonio and Las Vegas!): What are you waiting for?

Image courtesy Fujoshi.