Every Jan. 1, I make a heartfelt resolution to lose the unwanted pounds I have gained throughout the year. I dust off the treadmill, oil its rusted gears and with grim determination, I set out to reach my goal of the perfect weight.
Along with healthy eating and daily exercise, I soon drop that first hard-to-lose-pound. Then I hit the 10th day, which just so happens to be my birthday. Since I have managed to live another year, I reward myself with a piece of birthday cake. But it is almost impossible to limit the consumption of one’s special cake to just one slice. So much for the lost pound.
Back on the regimen, I try again. I re-lose that pound, and I’m doing fine. That is, until Feb. 14, which sends me into a chocolate-eating frenzy. And just when I think I’m safely past the confection indulgence, the month of March comes charging in, reminding me that I am of Irish descent. This requires me to eat Irish soda bread, corned beef and cabbage and shamrock cookies.
April is no easier. Those cute little yellow marshmallow chicks find their way into my stomach along with jelly beans, peanut butter eggs and a host of other goodies. By now, I have not only gained back that troublesome pound, but a few more have made my middle a comfortable cushion on which to rest my folded arms. But I am determined to get back to my healthy routine. After all, I did make a sincere resolution in January to lose this wearisome weight.
During the month of May, I find success when I lose the gained weight, putting me back where I started the first of the year. But Memorial Day marks the beginning of a series of cookouts, festivals of every sort and vacation. By the end of the summer, I put on a couple more pounds, especially around that cushion area. I won’t give up, though, because I know I still have time before the end of the year to keep my resolution.
So it’s on to September, a month that brings new beginnings. I’m back on the treadmill, eating fruit and vegetables and sweating off the weight I’ve gained. I even lose a few more pounds, and I’m sticking to the plan I started in January. But just when I think I am home free, another problem comes along in the form of excess Halloween candy. Not only do I purchase too much, but on the day after this sweet holiday, the stores mark all Halloween candy half price. I feel a certain responsibility to help the retailers unload their overstock, and to do my part to help the weak economy. I must admit that I am on a downward spiral at this point.
Barely able to begin my regime again, the most dangerous holiday of all arrives. Thanksgiving. It’s not just the one day of eating. The pumpkin pie, turkey, mashed potatoes and everything else starts in motion a gorging program that takes me all the way to the end of December. There are parties and more parties. Eggnog and Christmas cookies, along with the fatted goose cause me to lose track of my plan. (I had a plan?) By the time Dec. 31 comes along, I am convinced that someone has deliberately shrunk all of my clothes.
Scrambling to find the scale that has mysteriously disappeared, I finally locate it hidden in a corner in the linen closet. In a hesitant move I step upon it, shocked to find that I’ve gained all the weight back that I lost, plus quite a few more pounds. There is only one thing left for me to do.
On Jan. 1, I’ll make a resolution to lose the weight. I’ll dust off the treadmill, oil its rusted gears and get cracking. I’ll stick to it this time, because I’m really sincere.
-->
ENLARGE
