With 2021 clearly visible on the horizon, it's time to make those fruitless New Year's resolutions.
Especially the one about losing weight.
I've been fighting my battle of the bulge for about as long as I can remember. Well, at least I have been for the past 10 years or so (which, coincidentally, seems to be about as far back as I can remember. Hmm...).
I actually had been doing an adequate job of weight control, but then two things happened: Covid and Christmas.
When I turned 65, I joined the YMCA through the Silver Sneakers program, which more or less gave me free access to recumbent bicycles, treadmills and anything else that burned more calories than I took in.
But sometime around April, Covid closed the gyms and knocked me out of my daily two-hour routine, which I had practiced faithfully. I loved the Y. I loved my routine. I had a whole new circle of friends there and I actually looked forward to sweating.
Even when the Y reopened a few months ago, I was reluctant to go back because, you know, Covid is still around. And I'm in the target age group, soooo.....
But weight I had kept off for four years, if not actually lost, started coming back. Slowly. Inevitably.
The eating season arrived with Halloween and continued with Thanksgiving. Then came Christmas. Almost every neighbor on our block was showing up at my front door bearing gifts. Food items, actually. Brownies. Bourbon balls. Cheese puffs and cheese straws. Cookies. Anything chocolate. Adult beverages.
I consumed them all. Happily.
One night, I was getting ready to take some food items to a neighbor, and when I opened my front door to leave my house, there stood a neighbor on my porch with a bag of Chex mix. She hadn't even had a chance to ring my doorbell. I think we surprised each other. We wished each other a Merry Christmas as she handed me the gift. When I continued with my mission to another neighbor's house, I looked down the street. Several other neighbors were criss-crossing the road to exchange gifts (probably food stuffs, if my own experience means anything). It was amazing.
Anyway, I'm now 20 pounds heavier than I was in April.
OK, OK. I know there's some discipline that should be involved here. I absolve my wonderfully thoughtful neighbors of any complicity in my weight gain. I do want to thank the neighbor who gave me a candlewick in a wine bottle. It's beautiful. And, believe it or not, I haven't tried to eat it yet.
I don't have any gym equipment in my space-challenged house, but I do have stairs to the second floor. I guess I could do 15 minutes of stair climbing each day.
And I could go for power walks, even though it's 32 degrees outside. I used to walk profusely on the trail at Grimes School before my Silver Sneaker days, knocking off three or four miles at a clip. It might be time to resurrect that plan once more. And there's always push-ups, sit-ups, jumping Jacks and trunk twisters that require no equipment. Just resolve. I could be the next Jack LaLanne.
Until then, I guess I'm still the current me.