We are grateful for small victories

My wife Barb is ‘on a diet’. I know  what you’re thinking: “Poor bugger! How do you put up  with her while she’s enduring this  horrible torture?”

Here’s the thing: she’s enjoying a positive body transformation.

Up front, we ditched the term ‘diet’ for ‘nutritional mindset’. Diets conjure up tortuous self-discipline with punitive measures to arrive at a resented destination paved with regrets and fears.

Life’s too short. Why do that?

We are great believers in savouring simple pleasures. So, after eliminating and reducing certain foods, we focused on converting the surprisingly vast array of acceptable ingredients into pleasurable meals. We’re not chefs but we know a bit about enhancing flavours. Herbs and spices are superheroes in our pantry.

A little goes a long way, which is essentially what this journey is all about.

Fresh produce is key for the simple reason that we know what’s in it: no preservatives, flavour enhancers or those nasties that whet the appetite and make you want more.

As with any goal, the key to achieving a great outcome is to enjoy the journey. Every meal that meets the criteria of no culinary culprits and flurries of flavour is a treat.

We celebrate every positive aspect  of Barb’s quest. We look forward to weigh-ins because we know there will be a gold nugget eager to reveal itself in the scales dial.

Some nuggets are bigger and brighter and generate raucous excitement. Specks summon smiles and veins embedded in quartz get the challenge juices flowing.

There’s a progress graph on the kitchen whiteboard with smiley faces all over it.

During the first stage of Barb’s nutritional mindset, we endured a prolonged heatwave that necessitated major fluid intake and very little exercise.

Despite the neutral scales speculation, her workmates complimented changes they had observed. Every compliment is a trophy and is celebrated accordingly.

I regularly commute across the Hay Plain between Balranald and Griffith – a pilgrimage with very little going for it in the way of visual relief.

My first trip was fine because everything was new. Subsequent treks became tedious.

Now, I look forward to tiny discoveries that evoke rhetorical commentary such as: “That burnt-out SUV wasn’t there last time”; “They’ve ploughed in their corn crop. I wonder how the harvest went?”; “Here comes that bridge work that’s been slowing traffic down for six months. Still no perceptible progress”; “A brand new centre pivot! I hope it’s irrigating on my way back”.

Each wee wonder inspires just enough enthusiasm to get me to the next checkpoint and eventually arrive at my destination reasonably fresh.

If it’s not fun, it’s not worth doing.

I smile when I hear victorious athletes talking about the hard work they put in, because I know they actually love it.

Many professional footballers say that the hardest part of retiring is stopping training. Some don’t stop: they’re just unavailable for selection.

Originally, we joked about the chocolate cake lathered in whipped cream and decorated with smarties that would be our celebration feast when the final goal is reached. Now, six weeks in, the thought of an over-the-top sweet is losing its appeal.

We’re living in the moment, toasting all our small gains or, in this case, losses, and greeting milestones as a matter of course.

It’s not a challenge, it’s simply establishing a positive, fun mindset – health and happiness, without the heroics.

 Charlie Griffiths is a certified life coach  and Neuro Linguistic Programming practitioner. See charliegriffithscoaching.com