December, unsweetened, No. 14

12/30: Home stretch

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Four more days.

On January 2, my resolution to ban sugary treats from my diet, a commitment that began on December 1, will come to an end. At that point, I'll spend some time jotting down ways in which my unsweetened December may have affected me—in ways both positive, negative and, perhaps, not at all.

For today, it's enough to remember why I made this outlandish holiday commitment in the first place. It was all about weight. For years, I'd approach Thanksgiving at around my usual weight. By January 2, every year, I'd have packed on about seven pounds, which I'd spend the next few months trying to burn off.

I know mine is not a unique holiday story. I suspect it's a story shared by most Americans. A few days ago, I took some comfort in listening to a late-night sports talk radio host share his recent experience. Sal Licata, of WFAN, let his listeners know disgusted he was with himself for letting the holidays get the best of him, complaining that he hadn't been working out, had been overeating, and felt "sluggish, chunky and lethargic."

I hear you, Sal.

My wake-up call came a day after Thanksgiving, after I'd consumed a substantial meal of leftovers. Within the next 90 minutes, I'd also  polished off two slices of pecan pie and a dish of ice cream. As usual, I rationalized that I exercise a lot so it's understandable that I have a good appetite. Eating is just a matter of refueling.

Objectively, though, I had to wonder how and why I'd consumed three desserts after my dinner. I couldn't lie to myself. I was on track, once again, for another seven-pound weight gain (if not more) over the holidays.

So, I vowed to eliminate all manner of extra sugar from my diet, starting in December. No desserts, cakes, cookies, pastries, candies, ice cream. On the first day of the month, I stepped on the scale and and watched it ring up 159 pounds, even.

Then, as an extra motivational tool, I started researching other benefits, beyond weight control, of cutting down on sugary stuff. There were promises of more energy, greater strength, clearer thinking, reduced risks of various diseases, and a dozen other things. It seemed like I'd have the potential of becoming some sort of senior-citizen Superman.

As of today, I've managed, and not without a great deal of will power, to survive 30 unsweetened days. I'm looking forward to unlocking my sugarless shackles in a few days, after which I'll take one of three paths into my dietary future:

• maintaining my commitment to skip sweets;
• finding some level of moderation in my sugar intake, or;
• devouring a box of Ferrero Rochers, making a batch of Ghirardelli triple-chocolate brownies, and redeeming my coupon for a free pastry at Panera.

I'll reveal the findings from my sweets-free holidays—for better or worse—in the final installment of "December, unsweetened," on January 2.

December, unsweetened, No. 13

12/21: Visions of sugarplums

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

It finally happened. It was yesterday, December 23, which is usually when it happens.

Co-workers, friends, and neighbors you barely even wave to throughout the year all seem to give holiday gifts to other co-workers, friends and neighbors two days before Christmas. Typically, such gifts fall under one of three categories--alcohol, candles and, of course, confections.

At this point in my life, I've gained a reputation as someone who most appreciates gifts of the latter variety. I've been told my eyes literally light up at the sight of sweets, so I'm usually on the receiving end of all sorts of treats. This December 23 was no exception.

First, a friend's mother handed me a one-gallon baggie full of homemade chocolate chip and sugar cookies. Must have been a couple dozen in there. Holly's co-worker Barb, as is her annual tradition, makes and hands out fudge. It's the kind of fudge you don't just eat; you want to have a meaningful relationship with it.

Then again, there is the array of gifts that arrive at offices for staff members to share. These are almost always in the confection category, usually cookies or candies that can be shared among employees, unlike a bottle of brandy or a candle.

Often, there are so many tins of cookies and boxes of chocolates given as office gifts that they're offered to anyone who walks in the door for the next few weeks. Finally, when it becomes clear no one is going to eat the last broken cookie with the hardened raspberry jam, or the last lemon-cream chocolate, they'll eventually find their way into the trash.

For someone trying to eliminate sweet treats from his holiday diet, the couple of days right before Christmas present the greatest challenge of all. For the first time, last night, I had a nightmare that reflected my frustration.

I was at a holiday house party that was winding down. People were saying goodbyes in the living room and I was alone in the kitchen. On one of the counters in the kitchen, well out of sight of anyone else, sat a large, nearly empty plate of cookies.

I spotted a broken piece of a Double-Stuff chocolate-cream Oreo. I quickly convinced myself it was too small to count as a violation of my resolve. I popped it into my mouth and was immediately so stricken with guilt that I spit it into a trash can.

The following morning, my craving for a cookie was nearly overwhelming. I began to rationalize that it would be rude of me not to eat the sweet holiday gifts I'd been given. I wouldn't want to be rude, would I?

Nevertheless, I remained strong. Holly offered to freeze the cookies, fudge and whatever else tempted my sweet tooth, until January 2 when my self-imposed unsweetened holidays would be over. Right now, the day before Christmas, visions of sugarplums and Double Stuf Oreos are dancing in my head. Come January 2, I might just eat every sweet and dessert I can get my mouth on.

Hey, I never committed to a lifestyle change. I committed to go without sugary treats for 32 days. As of tomorrow, I have one week of denial left. So far, the only clear benefit is that I haven't gained the six or seven pounds I usually gain during December and New Year's Day.

Is that enough of a benefit to make me want to break up with Barb's homemade fudge?

December, unsweetened, No. 12

12/21: Sleep would be helpful

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

We're only four days away from Christmas and I'm still hanging on to my commitment for an unsweetened December. By a thread.

Bokay

A few days ago, my cat/best friend, "Bokay," had to have surgery to remove a few stones from his bladder. Merry Christmas. But what does that have to do with not eating sweets?

I'd read, a few years ago, that if you don't sleep well you're more inclined to eat sugary food the following day. If you start your day dragging, your brain tells you to eat sugary things for quick energy so you can push through the fatigue.

It makes such recommendations all day long, until you're able to catch up on your sleep. A nap is never a bad idea, assuming you can find a pocket of time during the day to take one. During the holidays? Good luck with that.

There are times, like this, when your brain doesn't really give you the best advice. Maybe it means well, but in this case it would be better if it kept its suggestions to itself.

Back to Bokay. Getting him into a cat carrier to go to the vet is like trying to catch lightning in a bottle. Probably harder. So, while I was worried about his anticipated operation, I was even more concerned about how I was going to get him ready to transport to the vet.

Then, of course, I was stressed about Bokay's surgery and recuperation. For a span of nearly a week, I didn't sleep well at all... making it a very bad time to do food shopping.

They're everywhere.

Sweet temptations were at the end of every aisle. Special holiday displays featured cookies, pastries, cakes and, of course, Ferrero Rochers in festive Christmas tree-shaped containers. All the while, of course, my brain was doing its best to convince me I needed something sweet to help me get through the day.

Bokay seems fine. The surgery went well and now I might be able to get some solid sleep. I have 13 more days to go without sweet treats. Twenty-one days in and I still can't say I'm feeling any better.

If anything, I've been feeling sort of blue, although that could be a result of increasingly abbreviated daylight. Dusk seems to follow dawn all too closely, these days. Seems I just finish breakfast, brush my teeth, and then the sun goes down.

Thirteen days. I can do this. Pretty sure. But will it have been worth it?

December, unsweetened, No. 11

12/16: Movie motivation

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Maybe it's too soon to tell, but I'm halfway through my dessert-free holidays and I'm not noticing any particular benefit of having dramatically reduced my sugar intake. In fact, I've felt worse. My mood is flat, my vitality has ebbed and my thoughts are more frequently muddled.

Yesterday, when a perky Panera employee wandered through the shop, offering free bite-sized samples of their "bear claws," I nearly caved in. The samples were each about an inch square, so I almost allowed myself a tiny "cheat."

After pulling myself together and graciously declining one of those sweet little freebies, I realized I needed some sort of extra motivation to maintain my commitment level. So, my evening with Holly featured a full-length documentary movie entitled, "That Sugar Film."

There are, to be sure, at least a dozen films proclaiming the physical and mental health dangers that come with conspicuous sugar consumption. It was pretty much a roll of the dice as to which one we were going to watch. If you're so inclined, check out the trailers and decide for yourself.

That Sugar Film is something along the lines of "Supersize Me." The leading man maintains a healthy diet of whole foods, until trying an experiment with his body. Since the norm for people in America, as well as in his native Australia, is to consume 40 teaspoons of sugar per day, he adjusts his food selections to do the same for 60 days. Most of the food he eats is typically considered "healthful," but contains surprising amounts of added sugar.

I won't spoil the ending, but I suspect you can make a pretty good guess as to how it ends. Along the way, I picked up some interesting tidbits about just how much sugar is added to our processed foods. The answer is way too much. And
if you take everything out of a supermarket that has added sugar, you'd have only about 20 percent of the items left on the shelves.

For me, it was worth watching and confirmed, at least for now, that my unsweetened December idea would eventually prove worth trying. I'm just waiting for that moment when the evidence is clear to me. The film suggests that it generally takes two to four weeks before the "detox" is over and the positive results begin to become apparent.

I just have to have enough patience to wait for the payoff.

December, unsweetened, No. 10

12/14: Pretty sweet deal!

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

This is going to be a problem.

I like Panera Bread shops, especially the one near my apartment. I like the ambience. I like that I can order online, from any table in the place and have my meal delivered to my table. I like the people, who always seem well trained and very pleasant.

Paneras have become, to me, what Howard Johnson's were to my parents—a go-to restaurant. I'm a card-carrying Panera Rewards member. So, I flinched a little when I heard the local shop was going to be renovated inside and expanded to include a drive-thru lane outside. I've always had an if-it-ain't-broke-don't-fix-it attitude.

That, however, turned out not to be a problem.

It has been a couple weeks, now, since the renovations were completed and I'm fine with the changes. Yesterday, though, I received a flyer in the mail. It announced the new remodel and encouraged me to check it out.

As an incentive, two coupons were included on the flyer, one of which was (gulp) for a free pastry or sweet with any purchase. My mind leaped to thoughts of Panera's Chocolate Chipper cookies, which are often available warm, from the oven. When I get one, I'll often sit and inhale the aroma for a minute or two before taking a bite.

The problem, of course, is that each cookie contains 30g of sugar. Having no idea what a gram looks like, I used an online calculator to convert them to something I could better visualize. As it turns out, 30 grams is equal to two tablespoons, which, I had to admit, surely qualified it as the kind of sugary food I'm trying to avoid.

For better or for worse, the coupons expire Jan. 31, 2020, four full weeks after my commitment to avoid sweet treats expires (Jan. 2, 2020). The question is whether I'm going to want to start avoiding desserts and candies after my period of denial is over, or if I'll rush back to the sweet, welcoming embrace of sugar.

The truth is, I'm going to have to feel a helluva lot better, by the start of the new year, to convince me not to redeem that Panera coupon.

December, unsweetened, No. 9

12/12: Some good fortune

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Yesterday, I was invited out to a complimentary buffet lunch (free food) and was worried that the end of the serving table would be groaning under the weight of numerous dessert options.

As it turned out, mercifully, I had nothing to worry about. The restaurant was what we Americans would commonly call "Chinese," and desserts are, well, ... pretty much foreign to that corner of the world. That proved to be helpful for me on the 11th day of my unsweetened December.

I had skipped breakfast, so I arrived at the restaurant hungry and quickly blew through samplings of savory entrees. Having been years since I'd dined at a Chinese restaurant, I'd forgotten their dessert menus are models of minimalism, if they exist at all. 

One plate was full of what appeared to be shortbread or sugar cookies with a single sliver of almond atop each one. The other, of course, was a bowl full of the standard crinkly-plastic-wrapped fortune cookie.

Neither option moved the needle on my sweet-o-meter.

I grabbed a single fortune cookie, primarily to spark a little conversation among the acquaintances with whom I was seated, at a table for eight. I cracked open the cookie, read my highly forgettable fortune, and ate the broken shards of the cardboard-y cookie. It was clearly not a violation of my commitment to eliminate sweet treats from my holiday diet.

Instead of seeing a table full of seductive cakes and cookies, I spotted only two options that could even remotely qualify as dessert. Not a bit of chocolate in sight. 

Later research informed me that sugary desserts are a Western invention, a custom that those in the Eastern world commonly eschews. If anything, after a meal, they might enjoy some sliced fresh fruit. Apparently, they believe food is their medicine, or something like that.

In other words, I caught a break. I'm nearing the midpoint of the month without any seriously sugary temptations. I still can't report feeling any better, but I remain hopeful.

December, unsweetened, No. 8

12/11: Free food! (Uh, oh.)

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Today, I will face my first significant test. I've been invited to attend a luncheon at a restaurant that, I suspect, will be offering an all-you-can-eat buffet. I've always had trouble with such meals, always monitoring my intake to make sure I'd eaten at least enough to cover my cost.  If I ate more, of course, I felt like a winner. A winner with indigestion, but a winner. I'd have gotten "a deal."

Yes, I know that's not a healthy attitude with which to approach a meal. The idea of getting good value, though, is also in play when free food is being offered. Mercifully, I can afford to buy food, but when it's free, I stuff it in my face like I haven't eaten in a month.

The buffet lunch, this afternoon, will be free. Normally, I'd pace myself on the savory entrees so I'd have plenty of stomach room available to try a few desserts. I'm clearly going to have to coach myself through the meal. I assume there will be several dessert options displayed on the table, none of which will be allowable during my unsweetened December.

I'll report back on lunch in a later blog.

Health check:

When I began this mission, I weighed 159 pounds even, and had no apparent physical problems. On my first two unsweetened says, I had persistent headaches that I'd rank as a 7 on the pain scale. I was craving and consuming more carbohydrates than usual, and was also clearly irritable and on-edge.

As the days went by, the headache subsided and I began to feel more like my usual self—maybe a little cranky, but not Ebenezer Scrooge cranky. Now, 11 days in, I seem to have stabilized. And although I'm not doing this to try to lose weight, I've dropped three pounds.

Perhaps most significantly, my sugar cravings have yet to diminish. I'm hopeful that day will come soon.

December, unsweetened, No. 7

12/8: My sweetest vice

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Did I mention Michele Ferrero?

From what I've read, that Italian billionaire, who died in 2015, is responsible for creating my No. 1 candy vice—Ferrero Rocher chocolates. For the uninitiated, they're those seductive golf ball-sized confections wrapped in gold foil and nestled in a tiny, pleated-paper muffin cup.

Mr. Ferrero, from what I learned with a modicum of research, was once named the 20th wealthiest person in the world, with personal worth estimated as upwards of $30 billion.

He also just happened to come up with another sweet and wildly popular product named Nutella. Perhaps you've heard of it?

I also learned that approximately 3.6 billion Ferrero Rocher chocolates are now sold each year—about 60 percent of them during the last three months of the year, probably because they're so widely given as holiday gifts. In past years, I've probably been responsible for eating several million of those delectable little chocolate-and-hazelnut goodies all on my own.

Fortunately, I haven't succumbed to their allure yet, during my unsweetened December. I haven't been given any as a gift either, but they've been strategically placed beside checkout counters in markets everywhere I go.

Meanwhile, I'm about a third of the way through the month, with no sugar breakdowns to report. I'd be lying, though, if I said this is easy. I'll post a health update tomorrow.

December, unsweetened, No. 6

12/7: Sweet habits

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

I'm not quite ready to concede that I have a full-blown addiction to sugar, but I have to admit I've been used to doing things that include consumption of sweets.

Some of my sweet-eating routines are as ingrained as, say, having coffee when I get up in the morning, or buckling my seat belt when I get in a car. Things just click in my mind and I respond in ways I have thousands of times before.

Example 1: After lunching out on a black bean burger and seasoned fries at a 30Burgers restaurant, I swung into Greene's Beans, a nearby coffee shop. For some reason, coffee has become the way I punctuate meals.

I entered the shop, drew myself a hot brew and then directed my attention to the pastry case, where a piece of crumb cake was shamelessly flirting with me. Anytime prior to this unsweetened December I'd have bought the cake. No question. I took one last glance at it, winced a little, and walked away.

Example 2: I dropped in on Holly at her work, Just inside the door there's a file cabinet, upon which invariably rests a large bucket of trail mix with M&Ms and butterscotch morsels, right next to a bowl of Hershey's miniatures. Every time I walk in, I grab a handful of trail mix or chocolates. I sometimes wondered if Holly had come to assume I visited her more for the candies than for her.

This time I walked in and felt the urge to head for the candy cabinet, but I resisted. As I walked away, I looked back at the containers of sweets, as if to say, "I miss you, too," but held my ground.

Example 3: Every other week I go to a nearby Panera Bread shop to pick up 13 everything bagels. Every Tuesday is "Bagel Tuesday," when you can get a baker's dozen for $6.99. It's a great deal.

Every time I go, though, I saunter past the pastry counter and get a goodie—a muffin, chocolate croissant, bear claw, whatever struck my fancy. Last Tuesday, I kept looking straight ahead and avoided the pastry decision altogether.

Make no mistake. I wanted the crumb cake, trail mix and a pecan braid, to a degree that bordered on desperation. I successfully abstained, though, and went on with my life.

Sweet habits die hard, but I've been winning. The acid test, I anticipate, will be when I get invited to a holiday party, or if someone hands me a gift of Ferrero Rocher chocolates.

If I crack at all, this month, it will likely be the fault of Michele Ferrero.

December, unsweetened, No. 5

12/5: Sweet strategies

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

My days of parenting children ended a couple decades ago, but I'm still curious about the way people handle that most profound of life's roles. Even the generation of parents that came after me (including my oldest son and his wife) seem to tackle the responsibility in vastly different ways than I.

I suppose my own parents felt the same way as they watched me raise my two sons. I never felt negatively judged by them. It's not a matter of being right or wrong about the way one does things. Just different.

Yesterday, Holly and I were talking about my relationship with sugar, and noted a few ways parents employ sweets with dealing with their children. The most popular one, we assumed, was as a bribe. If that sounds too harsh, go with what psychologist B.F. Skinner termed, "positive reinforcement."

In the history of refined sugar, which some trace back about 2,500 years, has there ever been a parent who never told their child, "If you eat all your vegetables, you can have dessert."? Phrased differently, the dessert reward becomes more of a threat: "If you don't eat all your vegetables, you can't have dessert."

The first wording encourages your child to be good. The second warns your child not to be bad. I can't honestly recall which way my mother said it to me, nor which way I said it to my sons.

What I do remember, however, is that Mom never used sweets as a way to soothe or make me feel better. When I or my peers, who grew up in the '50s and '60s, ever suffered a cut, scrape, or anything else that qualified as a "boo-boo," first aid typically involved a Band-Aid and a kiss, sweetly applied to the painful area.

By the time Holly was raising her two children in the '80s, some genius at the Lemberger Candy Company, in Paramus, N.J., had come up with Choc-Aids—chocolate made to look like Band-Aids. They were followed closely by Gumi-Aids, fruit-flavored jellies, also in the form of Band-Aids.

Sure, a kiss from Mom was a nice, sentimental gesture, but a more therapeutic way to soothe a child's pain was with sugar. There. All better.

I wish Choc-Aids were around when I was a kid, although I'll admit that as an adult I've occasionally self-medicated with chocolate.

Maybe I should have asked my doctor if chocolate is right for me?

December, unsweetened, No. 4

12/4: One sweet relationship

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Yesterday, in my blog,  I referred to "my relationship with sugar," but it wasn't until later that I began to question what that meant.

When did sugar and I first meet? Was it love at first bite? And why, after all these years together, did I think we should separate for a month?

I surely wasn't introduced to sugar the way many children have been over the past few decades—with the "cake smash" on one's first birthday. A fully frosted cake is placed in front of them and they're urged to interact with it in any way they choose.

According to the folks at Shooting Star Photography in Woodstown, N.J.,  who are increasingly hired to shoot such messy events, the practice may have originated among Mexican families.

(https://shootingstarsouthjersey.com/2015/10/05/history-of-the-cake-smash/)

In any event, the cake smash has become a first date with sugar that's the equivalent of "going all the way," using a bib as protection.

My earliest clear recollection of sugar was when I was about 5. My mother used to have regular appointments at a chiropractor's office, about a half-hour drive from our home. To keep me from being fussy about bringing me along, she'd stop at a corner store along the way and buy me a package of Goldenberg's Peanut Chews.

Later, when I played Little League ball, team wins were rewarded with sodas at the concession stand, compliments of the coach. These days, of course, it's de rigueur for victorious young athletes to be treated to ice cream, which is also a pretty sweet deal.

Then, of course, there were those annual October evenings when I learned I could ring a doorbell, say "trick or treat" and score a free candy bar. And that was back in the days before "snack sizes" had been invented.

Raisinettes at the theater. Fribbles at Friendly's. And, oh, those steamy summer rendezvous at the Good Humor ice cream truck. Yup, sugar and I had some pretty sweet times together in my youth.

So, how did it all go wrong?

December, unsweetened, No. 3

12/3: Bristling a bit

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

Yup, she said it. Holly used the word "addiction" in referring to my relationship with sugar. Three times, just yesterday.

The suggestion that I'm addicted to sugar made me bristle. All my life I've prided myself on the strength of my will. I've always been quick to claim I don't have an addictive personality (whatever that means).

Addictions, as I typically think of them, can surely be fatal. But sugar never killed anyone, right? It may have shortened some lives, having marginally contributed to, say, heart disease, stroke or diabetes. There were probably, however, a host of other more compelling factors that were in play.

Addiction is defined by Medical News Today as, "a psychological and physical inability to stop consuming a chemical, drug, activity, or substance, even though it is causing psychological and physical harm."

If that's the case, though, isn't everyone "addicted" to something? Doesn't everyone, by choice, do something over and over again, even though it's harming them in some way, however insignificant it may seem?

Jordan Almonds

My mother, who had a weakness for Jordan almonds, was always fond of the term, "All things in moderation." I thought it was only slightly immoderate to have had a second slice of pecan pie after Thanksgiving dinner. And after dinner the next day. 

Okay, yes, I've had nagging headaches the past couple days, and maybe I've been a little irritable. Holidays are stressful. It's not necessarily sugar withdrawal.

Addicted to sugar? No. I'm going to continue bristling about that, for now.

December, unsweetened, No. 2

12/2: Hey, c'mon, it's an 'energy bar'

This blog chronicles the author's attempt to endure the month of December, 2019, without eating sugary foods or drinks.

I couldn't possibly be the only one who thinks about having dessert after breakfast. Could I?

Technically, having something sweet after breakfast isn't really dessert, right? It's not even unusual to enjoy such things as part of the meal, like toast with jam, for example. There are even those (including me, at times) who have a muffin, glazed doughnut or frosted pastry, wash it down with a large coffee and call it a breakfast.

Breakfast, on the first day of my unsweetened December, was delicious—egg and cheese on a toasted, buttered everything bagel. A morning meal like that is usually satisfying enough to keep me from desiring a dessert-y item afterward. I will admit, however, that if some sort of pastry is readily available, I'll probably grab it.

After my breakfast sandwich I felt no cravings for anything sweet. Pulling on my jacket a few minutes later, however, I discovered a chocolate brownie Clif Bar in a pocket. My knee-jerk reaction was to peel open the wrapper and start gnawing away on it.

Hey, it's called an "energy bar." It's "made with organic rolled oats," weighs a mere 2.4 ounces and packs nine grams of protein. So, what's the harm?

Then I read the "Nutrition Facts" a little more carefully and found the harm—21 grams of sugar. After a few minutes of feeble rationalizing to convince myself that Clif Bars are "health foods" and should be included on my "acceptable" list for December, I tucked it away in a kitchen drawer.

Saying no to a Clif Bar was far more difficult than I thought it would be. That 2.4-ounce chunk of chewy, chocolatey sweetness wandered across my mind several more times as the morning wore on and I wrestled mightily with the temptation to reach for it.

Mentioning that mental battle to Holly prompted her to utter the word, "addiction."

"Addiction?," I thought to myself. "Pffft. Seriously? Uh... no."

Later that day, after taking a couple Advil for a headache, I Googled, "sugar addiction."

December, unsweetened, No. 1

12/1: Declaring my intentions

It happens every year. After stuffing myself like a turkey on Thanksgiving, I resolve to dramatically control my food intake throughout December. And fail. Pretty spectacularly. From December 1 until the last college football game is over on New Year's Day, I gain at least five pounds.

Then I conceal the evidence of my failure under sweatshirts and any other piece of clothing that drapes well over my waistline. When warm late-spring weather returns, without even trying, I seem to slowly drop my December add-on pounds and hold steady until the holidays roll around once again.

This December 1, I've decided to get serious about changing that scenario, which I've relived annually for the past four decades, or so. I've resolved to take on the greatest dietary challenge of my life. From December 1, 2019, until January 2, 2020, I vow not to consume anything that would be considered a sugary treat—cake, pie, cookies, ice cream, candy, hot chocolate.

Torture, right? December is the month when people are baking, serving and making gifts out of all sorts of such sweet delights. Forget sugarplums and figgy pudding. I'm pretty sure I've never attended a holiday party when either of those were offered.

But 'tis surely the season for more common Christmasy desserts, like sugar cookies, gingerbread cookies, Russian tea cakes, pecan pie and a mug of hot chocolate with a candy cane hung over the rim. There are sugary temptations everywhere you turn.

My No. 1 sweet weakness, however, is stollen*, sliced, toasted and buttered. It's a traditional German Christmas bread made with raisins, almonds, citron, marzipan, eggs, butter, rum and ... did I mention sugar? I gained two pounds just listing the ingredients. Hey, you have a favorite holiday dessert of your own, don't you?

To help me resist such sweet seductions, my sweetheart, Holly, graciously Googled the benefits of limited sugar consumption. The list of potential health benefits—both physical and mental— is long, indeed. Easing up on the goodies apparently helps guard against many problems, from Alzheimer's to zits.

The most coveted benefit, of course, is weight control, which is also the most easily measured. So I stepped up on a scale this Sunday morning, Dec. 1, and will begin my not-so-sweet holidays at an even 159 pounds. To try to determine other possible benefits, I'll keep a daily journal and share it in this blog.

It remains to be seen if I'll be able to muster up the will power required to make it through this December, unsweetened. Holly, who is my greatest sugar enabler, has promised to support me by eliminating her usual dessert offerings. Other friends and acquaintances, unaware of my quest, will continue to generously offer me treats, which I'll gladly accept ... and put in the freezer until January.

Perhaps, when the new year begins, I'll be somewhere south of 159 pounds and, possibly, discover that life really can be sweeter without sugar.

*I'd never attempt to make a holiday stollen from scratch, but the best one I've ever had is made by the Cassis Bakery in Beverly, Mass.  They take mail orders.