Yes, it’s that time of year again, when those of us with weak self-control make a pledge to ourselves to do something which we know we should be doing because it is good for us, but which we are unable to do without a special prod. Of course I am referring to New Year resolutions.
This year I am returning to an old favourite: getting my weight down. Readers of my Facebook posts will know that a couple of years ago I shrank from 100 kg – heart attack territory – to just under 80 kg. It was a monumental achievement and one for which I was rightly praised. But then the inevitable happened. I gradually slipped back into old bad habits and before you could say “these scales must be broken” I had bounced back to 84. Then a holiday abroad, plus some special celebrations, and before you knew it the first number was once again a “9”. Up and onward to the stars thereafter until the dreaded three digits were once again on the near horizon.
With two teenage children, which means many more years of expensive education fees to come – university applications already lodged by the elder, still two years away for the younger – I have calculated I need to work until I am 80. I am not going to make it with my present lifestyle. This time, instead of a vague distant target – albeit one I managed to achieve briefly last time round – I am adopting some KPIs. Zero wine until I am below 90 kg; one glass on Friday and Saturday evening until below 85 kg; free-wheeling drinking as of old only when below 80. Breaching a limit means reversion to the previous regime. Tough, but necessary.
Wish me luck!