I bought a bag of my favorite candy to prove to myself I could ration it. Here’s how I failed and why I’ll try again.
I bought a bag of candy corn.
This coincides with a promise to myself to cut out flour and sugar. Well, more than 5 ounces of sugar per serving. Turns out with my rudimentary math skills, three kernels (does that term apply to candy corn?) is within the threshold of 5 ounces of sugar.
More or less.
I bought this bag with the intent to squash my desires and galvanize my promise to myself. I’d know the tempting morsels were sitting in my work bag, just begging to be eaten.
Yet, I’d ignore them.
Guess how that’s working out for me? I bought the bag of candy less than a week ago. It’s almost empty. I can’t even tell you how many times and ways I’ve justified nabbing a fistful of the fall favorites and either savored them one by one or shoveled them back into my face, like a whale drinking in plankton.
A need to conquer
I’ll try again, though.
Even though I feel that familiar sugar hangover those of us who are weak against Type 2 diabetes know and regret. I need to conquer this. Do I need to convince myself that I can pluck three kernels (again, correct terminology or nah?) daily and seal up the bag until the sun rises again?
When I told my friend Ashley I had forsaken sugar, she turned her lithe body away so that I couldn’t see the tempting cup of ice cream in her hands. It’s okay, I assured her. I’m strong. I can look at it and not want it. Which is mostly true. I even looked at Krispy Kreme donuts that day without tears.
If I can carry with me a bag of my favorite Halloween candy and stick to the strict regiment of three per day, what more could I accomplish? What other hurdles could I clear, or at least spin kick out of my way like Chuck Norris to a gaggle of bad guys?
I might just polish this one off now and start fresh, TODAY.
I’ve failed myself this time around. And it won’t be the last time. But unless we put our obstacle front and center, tell it come at me, bro and mean it, we’re simply running from it. My candy corn might be a painful conversation you need to have with a loved one. Or a call from your doctor to give up this or take up that. Maybe it’s your faith on the line.
My advice: hit it square on. Even if you fail … well, even the thought of beating it can be pretty sweet.