Dozens hoping to win spot on NBC's `Biggest Loser'

They want to feel attractive and go on dates. They want to regain self-esteem and live longer. They want to drop, in some cases, more than 200 pounds. And they are willing to do it in front of millions of viewers.

Yesterday, more than 80 people gave up hours of their weekend to stand in line at The Rack in Boston's Faneuil Hall for a shot on NBC's ``The Biggest Loser." The reality television series gives 14 extremely overweight participants the chance to overhaul their diets and exercise habits to shed pounds during a 10-week boot camp at a Los Angeles-area ranch. The prize: $250,000 to the person who loses the greatest percentage of his or her body weight.

``It gets you really motivated," said Pascale Martineau , 33, who hopes to lose at least 100 pounds. ``You see someone who's 400 pounds running 5 miles, and you think anything's possible."

Laylonda Moss , 22, told casting directors yesterday that she is tired of her older brother yelling out ``Big Fillet" when he is trying to get her attention in public. Moss recently began taking pills for high blood pressure and realized she needed to change her lifestyle.

``I need to regain my health, lose the nicknames, and lose the weight," Moss said. ``I'm too young for hypertension."

For Matthew Sullivan , 23, the show is his last attempt to lose weight before considering gastric bypass surgery. He auditioned once before, in January, for the show's third season.

At 6-foot-3 and 460 pounds, he wants to become thinner so he has the energy to play with his 3-year-old.

``I can't run around with my daughter much," Sullivan said. ``I get tired and out of breath chasing her. I want to see her graduate and get married. I don't want to croak on my deathbed when I'm 26."

Mike LaPlante , 24, said working the graveyard shift as a security guard at Raytheon has contributed to his weight gain in recent years. LaPlante, who now weighs more than 400 pounds, said he feels embarrassed when he cannot squeeze into restaurant booths and seats at Fenway.

LaPlante's mother begged him not to go on television because she was afraid he would make a fool of himself, he said.

``She probably looks at it like a freak show," LaPlante said. ``People look at you anyway and you hear snickers all the time. I've got nothing to lose."