Hate January?

For about twenty years I went on a diet starting
January first and stayed on it until I achieved my
target weight. That took anywhere from four to seven
weeks of strict calorie counting. I had decided that
forty five to forty eight weeks per year of carefree
eating and drinking was worth whatever suffering I
invested at the beginning.

I got a paperback book that listed the number of
calories in everything from a cup of coffee to a Yak
steak, carried it with me and consulted it every day.
I proudly told everybody what I was doing so they
could admire my brilliance and dedication. By
December I had regained the fifteen or twenty
pounds and was sadly thinking about the January
grind.

As the years went by I came to hate January. It was a
real pain in the neck. It finally occurred to me that
maybe, just maybe, there was a better way. It was
hard not to feel guilty after all those years. I was in the
habit of being proud of my yearly accomplishment.
Now I felt like I was shirking my duty, being lazy, giving in.

I didn’t tell anybody about my changed plan and nobody
noticed. Imagine that. I didn’t drop to the previous target
weight which, of course, had some fudge factor built in
so I could gain all year. I adjusted my intake in small
increments so that I stayed close to the same weight
without trending up or down. Much better.

Lesson learned. Old habits can be changed for the better.
The new and improved one will become comfortable
quickly. What else can I look at? Hmmmmmmmmmm.

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Ken