I think my clothes are lying to me

Lawrence Toppman:

I am getting that false encouragement dieters have when they've made a little burst of progress. Belts that used to fit in the third hole now seem to land somewhere between the third and fourth. Khaki pants that were always too tight now fit only a bit too snugly. My expandable pajamas -- yes, you will wear those in your late 50s -- expand less than they used to. But I have a feeling that, come weigh-in time Monday, I will find that I have crept rather than leapt ahead.

The great temptation is to celebrate by...eating. If you didn't grow up in a culture or a family where food was used as a reward and a comfort, that may not be true for you. Memories of my childhood are rife with happy occasions marked by extra cookies, though I did finally talk my folks into giving me $1 per "A" on my report card instead. (Life was less expensive then.)

Now I am trying to congratulate myself without a culinary pay-off. (Maybe a handful of Life Savers, which have 10 calories per piece, will do in a pinch.) People like to say virtue is its own reward, but who fills his belly with praise?