I'm making up these statistics, but this is how it appears to me. Every New Year's Day in America:
25% of the people resolve to lose weight.
25% of the people who have managed to keep their weight at a proper level all their lives ask themselves, "Why do these idiots let their weight get so out of control?" And yet, many in this group wish the best for the dieters, cheering them on from the sidelines. I always appreciate that.
The other 50% of the (usually overweight) people say, "Why do they bother? They're just going to fizzle out in a few weeks and gain the weight back again. Not me! I only live once, and I'm going to eat what I like!"
We see them, one by one, succumb to diabetes and heart problems and strokes.
I've been in that 50% group a few times. This year, though, Cliff and I are in the bunch of fatties losing weight. The memory of Cliff's open heart surgery in July of 2006 motivates me more than anything else. I'm not ready to be a widow yet.
I didn't make a New Year's resolution, just so you know; this simply happens to be a good time to start, what with all the holiday gluttony behind us.
I think the longest we ever maintained our weights at an acceptable level was two years. Wouldn't it make sense to step on the scales weekly and, if I see I've gained two pounds, take it off right then? Of course it would. I don't know why I don't do that.
Why do we keep trying, when we always fail eventually?
I used to smoke. I took up the nasty habit when I was twenty-one, and finally quit for good somewhere in my thirties. But before that, I quit at least two dozen times, only to start smoking again. Each time I tried to quit was harder than the previous time, but I finally won the battle.
Failure isn't final.
Now, the trouble with losing weight is that you can't just quit eating, the way a person quits smoking. Temptation is everywhere, even at home. We are eating the food that's good for us, but it's very easy just to have another little helping because it's so GOOD.
So yeah, I'm trying again, which means Cliff is too. I may go to my grave fat, but I hope I never stop trying. And I hope I keep my smart remarks to myself when those around me decide to take the weight off for the umpteenth time, because this pot has no excuse for calling the kettle black.