By Michael J. Critelli | MakeUsWell Newsletter, 

At the end of 1976, I was deeply unhappy with what I saw when I looked in the mirror in my Evanston, Illinois apartment. I was about 25 pounds overweight. My skin looked pale. I had low energy and poor stamina. 

For someone who had once been a long-distance runner in high school and routinely played long singles tennis matches, it was humbling that I could barely jog a block without getting winded. My clothes were very tight around the waist and starting to look worn, which made me appear heavier than I actually was. For the first and only time in my life, I decided to make a New Years resolution to lose weight and be more fit.  

I also had an external motivation. Two months earlier, I had met the woman I would eventually marry, Joyce McNagny, in court. But I felt that if I asked her out then, I would be rejected because of how I looked and felt. I still would have made the resolution, but looking better for her was certainly a powerful additional impetus to succeed.

I resolved to lose 25 pounds in 1977, regain energy and stamina, and improve my appearance. I changed my diet and began jogging (initially I could barely make it half a city block).

What surprised me was how quickly small, reinforcing changes compounded. Within about two and a half months, dietary changes, increased physical activity, better sleep, and rising self-confidence combined to produce meaningful weight loss and a dramatic improvement in how I felt. By mid-March 1977, I felt confident enough to ask Joyce out to lunch. We began dating and were married less than two years later. In February 2026, we will celebrate our 47th wedding anniversary.

The mechanics of the change were neither extreme nor heroic. I made a series of modest but consistent dietary shifts. I had previously read that marathon runners fueled themselves with bowls of pasta. That may have worked for them, but it was counterproductive for someone sitting at work. I cut back on pasta and pizza meals. I shifted to simple meals of eggs for breakfast and meat and vegetables for dinner that I prepared at home.

I started having regular lunches at a seafood restaurant two blocks from my downtown Chicago office. I permanently stopped adding cream and sugar to my coffee and permanently gave up sugary soft drinks. I have no idea how much weight I lost from any one change, but together they mattered.

I joined a downtown tennis and racquetball club and began jogging at night, gradually increasing my distance to a mile. Walking to and from the commuter rail station in Downtown Chicago each day added more movement without feeling like “exercise.” 

Joyce also bluntly told me that I needed to upgrade my wardrobe to reflect my improving physique and to look more successful. She was right. Clothes that fit and looked better represented a symbolic break from my unhealthy past and reinforced my progress and confidence rather than undermining it.

Each January, millions of people resolve to “eat better,” lose weight, or improve a troubling biometric measure such as blood glucose or cholesterol. By February, many of those resolutions fade. The mistake is framing dietary change as a test of willpower rather than as a system that must function under real-world pressures.

What did my experience teach me?

First, purpose matters. Wanting to be attractive enough to pursue a relationship gave my effort urgency. Feeling sluggish and looking uncomfortable in my clothes were even stronger daily motivators.  

Second, small changes beat big declarations. Eliminating sugar in coffee, sugary soft drinks, changing breakfast, and altering lunch and dinner routines were manageable and cumulative. None required heroics.

Third, feedback loops matter. Increasing stamina, tracking weight and waist size at reasonable intervals, and gradually extending jogging distance reinforced one another and made progress tangible.

Fourth, environments matter. Buying meat from a local butcher twice a week, experimenting with seasonings, and routinely eating lunch at the same oyster bar reduced decision fatigue and temptation. Joining a club made exercise social and enjoyable.

Fifth, setbacks are inevitable. Over my adult life, I lapsed back into being overweight multiple times and pulled myself back again. Having succeeded once, I knew it was possible to succeed again if I understood what had worked the first time and what needed to change.

Improving the odds of a successful dietary New Year’s resolution is not about motivation. It is about designing behaviors, measurements, and environments that make success more likely than failure and then letting consistency do the rest. The resolution I made in 1977 did far more than improve my health. It gave me self confidence and a belief that I could succeed in overcoming other obstacles. Most importantly, it helped me achieve the most important outcome of my life: a long and happy marriage.