With resolutions, when food talks, people listen
- col-dave-mast
- January 12, 2024
- 338
Jan. 1, New Year’s Day, is perhaps the ultimately recognized of holidays, the beginning of a new year that instigates millions of people making New Year’s Day resolutions to vow to stop this, quit doing that, start this and end that.
For millions it’s weight loss, and all of those hopes and dreams are made with the best of intentions. However, it also leads us to the wonderful celebration on Jan. 17, which is home of National Ditch New Year’s Resolution Day.
Yep, a mere 17 days into everyone’s hopes and dreams comes this unheralded day that dashes all and sends them running over the edge of the cliff like a herd of lemmings.
OK, as I type this, a co-worker reading over my shoulder informed me a group of lemmings is actually called a colony of lemmings, so I stand corrected.
Like a colony of lemmings, people will follow the trend to this inevitable conclusion for the majority of people making New Year’s diet resolutions.
Tell me if this sounds familiar.
“I am making a resolution to lose weight in 2024,” only it will start right after you eat 14,653 calories worth of pizza, wings, desserts, salsa and chips and that luscious chocolate cheesecake at your New Year’s party.
But then comes the next day when all of those leftovers start up a conversation from within the refrigerator. The cold pizza shouts out to the chips and pretzels in the pantry. They lure you in with thoughts like “You don’t want to waste all of this food, do you? That would be a crime.”
Thus, you tell your friends, your spouse and your kids, “OK, I’ll start my diet tomorrow. You understand don’t you, the clean plate thing and all? I’ve gotta eat these leftovers, or it will be a waste.”
Slyly, the ribs and potato salad in the fridge wink at one another as the Fritos and chocolate-covered pecans high-five one another in the pantry.
Meanwhile, the broccoli and celery are being mugged by the lasagna and cold cuts, who are telling them not to make a sound or else.
Of course, the leftovers last for four more days, so it’s now Jan. 5 and the diet remains firmly unemployed at this point.
That’s when you say to yourself, “OK, once the weekend is over, the diet starts for real this time. I mean it.”
Meanwhile, the potato chips crack wise from behind you, causing you to twirl quickly to see where those tiny voices you heard beckoning you to open the cupboard door came from.
Alas, nobody is there.
“Oh well, since I’m right here, I better check to make sure nobody is lurking in my cupboard,” you say to yourself.
Sure, no one is there, but the sight of the King Dons and Twinkies makes you think to yourself, “One isn’t going to hurt anything.”
Four Twinkies and a large bowl of chips later, you’re on the couch watching reruns of “Gilligan’s Island” wondering how that happened.
Then Monday rolls around and some thoughtless co-worker has brought in doughnuts for the office.
“Well, that was kind of them. I don’t want to hurt their feelings. Maybe I’ll have just one.”
You take one, and then just to make sure you don’t hurt their feelings, you grab another one for an afternoon snack.
“OK, the diet starts for reals tomorrow,” you utter as you nosh on the second doughnut at 10:31 a.m.
Then in your ultimate wisdom, you check the break room at the end of the day, where three more doughnuts are left and you’re the last one in the office.
“Can’t let those go to waste. They’ll be rock hard by tomorrow,” you say to no one in particular.
You cram one into your mouth as you drive home, placing the box on the counter for the morning’s breakfast.
Sound about right?
Two weeks into your diet, you’ve inexplicably gained 4 pounds and silently slide the scale into the dark recess of the sink cupboard, where it is relegated to convene with half-used SOS pads, an old toothbrush used for cleaning grout and a bottle of Ajax.
“I’ve got to get myself under control,” you say loudly, with loads of conviction.
You eat a salad for supper, hit the treadmill and it’s game on.
After two days of eating greens and pouring water down your gullet rather than those sugar-filled sodas you’ve been chugging, the final nail finally comes on your New Year’s resolution to lose weight.
On the evening of Jan. 17, you hear knocking coming from your refrigerator freezer.
You cautiously head to it, drawn by some uncanny force of nature. As the lettuce, peppers and broccoli scream at you to stop, you’re mesmerized. You can’t help yourself.
You slowly open the freezer, where the praline and cream gelato gently call your name.
That’s when you make your second resolution of the year.
“I invoke the authority of Ditch New Year’s Resolution and denounce my New Year’s resolution,” you shout out, grabbing the box of ice cream, devouring its remains, even tearing apart the sides of the container to lick off the remnants.
Not surprisingly, far more people adhere to their Jan. 17 resolution than do those who stick to their New Year’s resolution.
The facts back up this insanely mythical but all-too-real story.
Exactly one in three people fail their New Year’s resolutions in the first month while a meager 10% of people are successful at keeping their resolutions throughout the year.
Ditching New Year’s resolutions has been a practice for almost as long as New Year’s resolutions themselves.
Here’s the thing: Making a commitment to make a change in your life and sticking to it happens only when you have the willpower to do it. That Jan. 1 date is not some miracle worker.
So 17 days later, the dream dies for many.
For those of you who make it, please share your success stories with others, so the next time the pizza and ice cream come calling, those of us less fortunate souls have a fighting chance.