Last Christmas we had the Jingle Bell Challenge. It's a way for our family to promote health and fitness. Billy made T-shirts, we had prizes, lots of activity and cheerleading. It was fun! Hopefully we'll be more fit for it. We looked at this as the first annual event.
Having the Jingle Bell Challenge gave Rick some fodder in creating his submission to The Family From Yosemite stories (another annual holiday tradition). It's a self-deprecating saga of what so many of us go through concerning food. Our T-shirts said, "On The Program" this year and Rick's title is the same. I myself am on the program and am hopefully making 2015 my year to lose the weight. The challenge and the story have helped encourage me along with lots of prayer and support from the family. It's Valentine's Day and I've been on the program for a month. I've lost 10 lbs. It's a start. I'm sharing Rick's story today because I and the rest of my family continue to be On The Program
On The Program
by Richard H. Blair
December 29, 2014 - The Family From Yosemite
Any organization, culture, or family in the process of time develops a shared vocabulary. In the context of these groups some words take on special and unique meanings that are not immediately obvious to outsiders. This process is certainly active in the Blair home.
Last year for his Family From Yosemite submission my Dad chronicled many of the so-called “Blairisms” that our family has created through the years. Today I’d like to focus on one of them... “The Program".
To define it most simply, The Program is healthful living through proper diet and regular exercise. However, you’d rarely, if ever, hear someone from the family say “I’m on a diet”…that’s because we never just diet...we go on the program.
Growing up, I didn't realize that no one knew what this was. Telling someone you weren't going to have any desert because you were on The Program would usually trigger a puzzled stare along with the question, "What's The Program?"
I mentioned before that The Program is more than just dieting, it's also more the just exercise, or even both together. Diet and exercise are for wimps, the program is something more, something harder, not to be attempted by the faint of heart.
In reality it's just diet and exercise, but this elitist attitude for me is the essence of the program.
Anyone can diet and exercise, but not everyone can do The Program, and since I am on the Program, I’m not just anybody. Arrogant? Maybe, but a little self-confidence to provide a mental edge is huge.
What makes the program harder is the same thing that makes it difficult to sustain. This elitism I spoke of propels it to extreme and aggressive levels. Kick moderation out the door, and and welcome austerity with a big hug, The Program is an all-or-nothing do-or-die proposition.
It may sound hard to believe, but on more than one occasion in my life I've said aloud "I'll never eat a piece of candy again." I've meant it every time too. You should hear me, "I'm gonna do it this time, never again, I'm back on the program!
ike the Nephite pride cycle, you can always bet with 100 percent certainty that things are going to turn out badly in the end. Failure is inevitable, and then the bold promises start anew. For every commitment to live clean, there's a Del Taco chicken soft taco waiting around the corner.
ike the Nephite pride cycle, you can always bet with 100 percent certainty that things are going to turn out badly in the end. Failure is inevitable, and then the bold promises start anew. For every commitment to live clean, there's a Del Taco chicken soft taco waiting around the corner.
A favorite comedian of mine, Jim Gaffigan, summed up the Blair Program nicely when he spoke about his own personal fitness aspirations:
"Occasionally, I do workout, and I'm one of those people whenever I do workout, I immediately have grand plans...'I'm gonna work out every day.'
Then the next day I'm like, 'Well, not EVERY day. I gotta let my muscles breathe a little. I'll work out every OTHER day.'... then the next day I'm like, 'Eh, I'm happy with the way I look.'"
Its the grand plans that cause us to falter. My list of failed commitments is pretty long.
No fast food ever again, going vegetarian, going vegan, gonna exercise everyday, for real no caffeine. Only plant-based whole-foods. Gluten free, dairy free, no more junk food, and this time I mean it. "I'm back on The Program."...well for a little while at least.
I'm not the only one. Just this week, upon arrival at Mom and Dad's I found a pledge posted by Sam on the refrigerator:
No Sugar
Absolutely no fast food
Workout 5 times a week
Eat more fruit
I reminded Sam of this while he was reaching for his second handful of chocolate almonds, and all I got back was an eye roll. Next time maybe Sam should try writing his goals on his heart instead of the fridge.
The hard truth is that I have no room to criticize. I've fallen off the wagon more than once over the years and my wife Wendy has had a front row view of all my weirdness.
Most recently in anticipation of the inaugural Jingle Bell Challenge I went through a whole series of back on the program delusions...I'm not gonna eat a single piece of Candy this Halloween-failed. Ok then, I'm not gonna overdo it on Thanksgiving, it's all about portion control, just one plate and I'm done-failed. Well, dang, then now I'm not gonna have a single treat on Thanksgiving-I ate half a pie.
Wendy's seen firsthand my manic swings between eating like a Buddhist Monk to cramming so much cake in my face that I feel like turning in my temple recommend. If only I had her iron will, or maybe if I wasn't such a nut. At any rate, Wendy has always had much more moderate sensibilities when it comes to food.
As a case in point, let's look at my behavior this past Halloween. Several weeks out I told Wendy of my aspirations to go treat free. I think already doubting my resolve, I explained my solution was to remove any source of temptation and not have Wendy buy any candy at all. Negotiations started out badly with Wendy affirming that she wasn't calling off Halloween for my sake. Her solution was "just don't eat all of it". I countered with "OK, go ahead and buy it, but keep it hidden and don't tell me under any conditions where you've put it." A few days later without Wendy's knowledge I was rummaging through the back of every cupboard in the house looking for the hidden cache so I could get my fix.
I did eventually find it and now angry at myself I blame Wendy...this is your fault, I wouldn't eat this junk if you wouldn't buy it, you did this to me. I'm sorry, I know I'm wrong, tomorrow I'll start over.
Then the day starts fresh, things will be different today, but it's Halloween, maybe just one, the kids have so much, and I love Almond Joys. Just one more, ok last one, this is it, just these last three; I can't believe I ate all that, I wasn't going to have any, and now I've lost track, I'm ashamed, but tomorrow I can start fresh.
It's a new day, the mania hits me again: "Wendy, we need to throw away all of the Halloween Candy...or maybe you can hide it all from me." Again, the obvious reply, "Maybe you just need to control yourself."
Well, instead maybe I’ll enjoy what I've got here, and once it's all gone, then I can start fresh tomorrow, tomorrow I'll be back on the program.
And the cycle continues, good for a time...until something...the weekend, a family visit, the drive through because I'm in a hurry, it's the holidays, tonight I just don't care, wow, those Costco muffins look good, if it's not one thing it's another, and there's always tomorrow. . . tomorrow I'm back on the program.
Do not ignore the Word of Wisdom,
for that may cost you
the “great treasures of knowledge,
even hidden treasures”
promised to those who keep it.
And good health is an added blessing.
– Elder Boyd K. Packer,
Ensign, November 1994, p. 61
Do not ignore the Word of Wisdom,
for that may cost you
the “great treasures of knowledge,
even hidden treasures”
promised to those who keep it.
And good health is an added blessing.
– Elder Boyd K. Packer,
Ensign, November 1994, p. 61