January is not the best of months to give things up
COLUMNIST
HERE we are in the most grim month of the year surrounded by people giving up all the fun stuff just when we need it most.
Even worse, some of our shelves are still heaving with temptation left over from December when most of us existed happily in a parallel universe in which sugar has no calories and it’s fine to consume vast quantities of alcohol from dawn to dusk.
Whoever would top up their breakfast OJ with prosecco or champagne on any other day of the year than December 25? And who said dragging an entire fir tree into the house and hanging chocolate from it was a good idea? Still it’s these things that get you through the short, dark, cold days.
A few weeks later the sun still hasn’t returned but we’re pretending we feel different.
It’s that time of the calendar when we realise December was all a bit over the top and lurch from unhealthy over-indulgence to depressing under-indulgence.
Few people have the strength to keep self-sacrifice up without caving in after a few weeks at the darkest, coldest, most depressing time of year.
It’s not even as if those counting carrot sticks out for lunch will get the opportunity to show of their new slim-line figures. Days at the beach are off the cards for a few months, by which time Easter eggs will have taken their toll.
I’ve been trying to avoid all these miserable self-sacrificing souls, but it’s hard not to stumble across some masochist hell-bent on making January even more miserable than it already is.
And they want to spread the word. How do you know if someone is doing dry January? They tell you. Endlessly. But they’ll watch you like a hawk as you pour yourself half a glass of white wine.
People like to share their experiences. Why flail yourself with sticks and walk about with stones in your shoes without shouting about it? If you’re going to be a martyr there is no point if no one knows.
It’s far harder, after all, to suffer in silence than share your pain with others whilst glowing in the balm of self righteous smugness.
While I don’t really mind if someone wants to give up chocolate, Netflix or alcohol for 31 unhappy days, I don’t want to hear about it. But tell me they do. Among the things various family members and acquaintances are foregoing throughout the month of January are booze, sugar, chocolate (does that count if you still inhale Percy Pigs?), television, screens in general and clothes shopping.
The bizarre thing is these few weeks are among the best to take up these heinous habits.
Shops are holding sales so you’ll be able to buy new clothes cheap, chocolates and booze are mostly cut price, and there are, a number of good dramas on various channels and digital.
Next year, if it wasn’t for my family being so dully traditional, I would like to hold Christmas in January. The money saved could go towards a summer holiday and I could get my figure and liver function back in February, when at least the hint of longer days and shoots of spring are near.
And how many people mistakenly fork out for gym membership they rarely, if ever use, in January? Why force yourself out of the house in those dark, damp, chilly hours before or after work to pump iron with other glum souls?
Animals hibernate for a reason. The winter is inhospitable and dank. It’s the time to stay in and re-charge batteries.
That’s why most of the people telling me with the mad-eyed glare of the convert how much they love running half a marathon before breakfast, will be giving up before January is out.
Far more sensible to wait to turn your life around when the longer, warmer days of spring arrive?
That’s why you’ll find me hoovering up the left over toffees and watching re-runs of Poldark. I’m waiting for the optimum time to get fit and healthy.
I was given a voucher for new trainers for Christmas. I’ll be using them when it gets light again. Until then, pass the chocolates.