Farewell my sweet (Week 33)
"I went to the bank and asked to borrow a cup of money. They asked what for and I said I wanted to buy some sugar."
Doesn't Steven Wright just crack you up? In his super-dry jokes, there's always a hint of some truth lying underneath. Like the thing about sugar. I think there's a subtle comment in there about our maniacal addiction to the sweet stuff.
This week, I decided to forego all processed sugar. Every time I was offered something sugary and lovely, I politely declined. Turns out that was a LOT of saying no.
You may have heard the news that sugar is as addictive as cocaine. While the debate rages on about that one, there's enough to suggest that sugar is plenty bad even if you're not a complete junkie for that sweet white powder. Besides the fact that sugar is empty calories, we know all too well about the potential of weight gain and even Type 2 diabetes, which is now at an all-time high in our world. Throw in a little tooth decay and heart disease and you have a pretty nasty formula for poor health.
I figured going sugar-free would be a doddle, since I'm already health conscious and have decent enough will power. But then a full assault opened on multiple fronts.
My workplace is a minefield of sweet treasures. It's common to see a message going out to everyone announcing that cake is being served, that cookies have been baked, or that you can "help yourselves" to as many Lindor chocolates as you like. The fact that they're free appeals to the Scot in me, and my brain fills in the rest with the dopamine expectation of a sweet reward. And so I grabbed three lovely chokkies, intent on saving them for the following week when I would throw caution to the wind. But I did say no when a co-worker passed my desk with a boxful of frozen lollipops to celebrate a work anniversary. Instant outcast!
At home, it wasn't much better. Our neighbour Debbie is a fantastic baker but her husband Brad doesn't eat sweets. So guess who gets it all? She cheerfully arrives at our door with all manner of delights, and they are each as addictive as the next. This week, it was peanut butter crunch chocolate chip and caramel cookies. I could only imagine how magical they were as Val opened up and began downing one after the other. Bless her heart, though, she put the remainder in the freezer for the following week.
Our son Nic has a sweet tooth. He can hardly imagine a dinner that ends without some sort of sugary goodness. Val loves her post-repast ice cream, and I generally join in. You know, just to be social. So once again, there was me sitting on the couch watching her scoop spoonful after spoonful of Moose Tracks ice cream as the recent taste of spinach salad echoed in my palate. I knew what my brain was screaming out for, and I denied it. Thrice even!
Besides all the obvious candy and dessert treats, I also did a lot of label-gazing during the week. I was shocked, shocked I tell you, to discover how many of my supposedly benign packaged goods were chock-a-block full of sugar. Low-fat yogurt. BBQ sauce. Ketchup. Protein bars. Breakfast cereal. Our cabinets are overflowing with a Murderers Row of evil sugar villains. About the only exception I made all week was with fruit, where the naturally occurring sugar is accompanied by fibre that allows your body to deal with it properly. So, fruit = not a bad guy.
After a week of going sugarless, I didn't notice any big difference. But then again, I don't know a fraction of what's actually going on inside my body. I'll just assume that it was all good stuff, and that maybe I'll be a bit smarter about reading labels from now on. But I know I will succumb to the pressure of those cookies in the freezer, the chocolates on my desk and to the inevitable sugary treat that hoves into view.
What can I say? I'm just a sweet guy.
NEXT WEEK: Staying out of the car for 7 days!
Doesn't Steven Wright just crack you up? In his super-dry jokes, there's always a hint of some truth lying underneath. Like the thing about sugar. I think there's a subtle comment in there about our maniacal addiction to the sweet stuff.
This week, I decided to forego all processed sugar. Every time I was offered something sugary and lovely, I politely declined. Turns out that was a LOT of saying no.
You may have heard the news that sugar is as addictive as cocaine. While the debate rages on about that one, there's enough to suggest that sugar is plenty bad even if you're not a complete junkie for that sweet white powder. Besides the fact that sugar is empty calories, we know all too well about the potential of weight gain and even Type 2 diabetes, which is now at an all-time high in our world. Throw in a little tooth decay and heart disease and you have a pretty nasty formula for poor health.
I figured going sugar-free would be a doddle, since I'm already health conscious and have decent enough will power. But then a full assault opened on multiple fronts.
My workplace is a minefield of sweet treasures. It's common to see a message going out to everyone announcing that cake is being served, that cookies have been baked, or that you can "help yourselves" to as many Lindor chocolates as you like. The fact that they're free appeals to the Scot in me, and my brain fills in the rest with the dopamine expectation of a sweet reward. And so I grabbed three lovely chokkies, intent on saving them for the following week when I would throw caution to the wind. But I did say no when a co-worker passed my desk with a boxful of frozen lollipops to celebrate a work anniversary. Instant outcast!
At home, it wasn't much better. Our neighbour Debbie is a fantastic baker but her husband Brad doesn't eat sweets. So guess who gets it all? She cheerfully arrives at our door with all manner of delights, and they are each as addictive as the next. This week, it was peanut butter crunch chocolate chip and caramel cookies. I could only imagine how magical they were as Val opened up and began downing one after the other. Bless her heart, though, she put the remainder in the freezer for the following week.
Our son Nic has a sweet tooth. He can hardly imagine a dinner that ends without some sort of sugary goodness. Val loves her post-repast ice cream, and I generally join in. You know, just to be social. So once again, there was me sitting on the couch watching her scoop spoonful after spoonful of Moose Tracks ice cream as the recent taste of spinach salad echoed in my palate. I knew what my brain was screaming out for, and I denied it. Thrice even!
After a week of going sugarless, I didn't notice any big difference. But then again, I don't know a fraction of what's actually going on inside my body. I'll just assume that it was all good stuff, and that maybe I'll be a bit smarter about reading labels from now on. But I know I will succumb to the pressure of those cookies in the freezer, the chocolates on my desk and to the inevitable sugary treat that hoves into view.
What can I say? I'm just a sweet guy.
NEXT WEEK: Staying out of the car for 7 days!
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