My wife has gone on a diet. This, of course, means *I* have gone on a diet — perhaps not as strict as hers, but a diet nonetheless.
I have been through this routine before. Twice I have lost more than 30 pounds on diets, generally keeping the weight off for relatively longer periods of time, although the slow process of backsliding and my affinity for delicious beer eventually have brought me back to Square One (or, in my current case, sent me to a big new square entirely).
I’ve needed to take better care of myself for a while now. My age and my stressful job demand that I eat better and exericise more. It’s just time, and this backdoor diet may be just what I need.
The gods like to mock me for sport, so naturally, on Saturday I went to a Christmas party that had a soul food buffet. I had one rib, two bites of the best pork-infused collards in the world and some salad. My wife — did I mention she is on a diet? — took a pass. This is not going to be easy.