I've given up quite a bit in the name of fitness, and among that are cheese, snack food, full-fat everything, ice-cream and many meats, but there is one thing I've never given up in the name of anything. That's beer, perhaps my only remaining vice. I've even been known to reassure myself with such statements as each slice of bread I didn't eat was one beer I could drink.
Well, beer is suddenly in serious question. A blood test during the week, my first in three years, returned a blood-sugar reading of 5.9, above the recommended limit of 5.6, and my GP explained that this is a pre-diabetic condition. It means that if I don't do something about it I have a 50 per cent chance of developing diabetes.
But what to do? My diet is very low in fat and high in fresh, unprocessed food. I exercise every day, often strenuously, and have done so for decades. I don't take care with my diet, by the way, for health reasons so much as for fitness.
So, it looks like it's beer. I'd have three or four beers most days, and while on some of the other days I have more than four beers, on some days I have no beer. I've decided not to pussyfoot around with this problem, and so I'm going to have four Grog Free Days a week. Extreme, eh?
From early in the new year. You'll understand that as I head off on holidays soon a few beers under the silver tarp from beer o'clock is much more important than a miserable number like 5.9. And as I ask in my column in The Herald today, did another month of immoderation ever kill anyone?
An old mate of mine who's been loyal to his vices through thick and think often asks if we want life to be longer or just seem longer, and I'm beginning to wonder myself.