Shit Reduction

Every year I stupidly make the same promise to myself; when I go to my in-laws I will work out every morning before we get going on the daily relative visit, and barring the big Hanukkah party, I will eat healthy. After five years you’d think I would have given up this fantastic lie, but there I was at 1:00 AM the night before we were to take off for Southern California trying to stuff my tennis shoes and Denise Austin DVD into an extremely packed suitcase.

I’ve been here for three and a half days, and to my credit I did work out with perky Denise once, but everything I’ve consumed thus far has been pure, fat-ridden, sugar-coated shit. From the gravy-drenched beef brisket to the thick, yummy pumpkin cheesecake from Costco; it’s been like a ‘no holds barred’ eating extravaganza since Friday afternoon. Normally, I’m the picture of someone who really watches what I consume. I buy organic products, hormone-free chicken and fish, I rarely eat beef, and I digest the government recommended daily dose of whole grains, and can’t conceive a world without veggies.

I don’t fault being at my in-laws, because we usually make it down to visit them a few times a year. We were here in June, and I didn’t eat like this, so as I’m helping myself to another slice of rum bunt cake I had to blame this shit feast on something. Everyone always says the holidays are about more than the presents, and they are right; the holidays are about stuffing yourself mercilessly with full knowledge that you are completely off the hook until that magical first day of January, when you can do a thorough shit detox and tell yourself that after 365 days of perfect nutritional behavior, next year’s holidays will be different (which they never are).

You start the shit reduction with such faith, as most do. You make a plan somewhere around December 28th as you are finishing the last of the chocolate desserts vowing to clean out the fridge, cabinets and pantry in preparation for the big New Year’s shit reduction. You dust off that copy of the Cooking Light Award Winning Recipes cookbook deciding to make this experience an adventure, and as you polish off the holiday Jell-O mold you form a shopping list of ingredients, which you promise to fill on the first post-New Year’s Day the grocery store is open.

By the time New Year’s Eve rolls around, nearly two weeks of eating the shit offered on the tables at every holiday party you attended, the vast amount of shit piling the dining room buffets of all of your relatives, and your own home filled with shit you would never even think to bring home at any other time of the year (can you say marshmallow peep-style Christmas trees), all of it has built up inside your intestines forcing your stomach into an unsightly bulge. However, this shit reduction is not about vanity, it’s about health. Yeah right, and you didn’t wake up with turkey leftovers on your mind.

It’s currently Christmas Eve, and there is exactly seven days until the shit reduction officially begins. I will try in vain to get a couple of more Denise sessions in, and will try even harder to keep my hands out of the huge vat of M&Ms my mother-in-law keeps in the family room, but I’ve decided to stop lying to myself.

Perhaps it’s time to be an adult about this whole holiday shit eating orgy and just admit that any attempt to stay remotely healthy during the time of year, when the alcohol and gravy flows like a waterfall, is unrealistic. Maybe I should just try to be reasonable about this time of the year, do what I can, and get back to normal in January, just like everyone else. Perhaps an outlook of moderation will prevent me from gorging on shit, and help me turn over a new leaf.

Never mind, they’re having Irish coffees and cheesecake in the other room, so here’s to the January 1st shit reduction, until then, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and enjoy the food!