We have a full house, and I am surrounded by strong-willed people. People who are much, much better at self-control than me. A month without chocolate here, a month without fizzy drinks there, a total cutting-out of rubbish food until a bad habit has been broken, abstention from alcohol as required, a foregoing of biscuits for weeks on end. All I do is clear kitchen drawers of offending items, stop buying and baking further supplies, and offer tea and sympathy when temptation threatens to spoil good runs and personal bests.
Lent has become a testing time for other people. There have been big discussions about what will be given up this year and promises made to encourage and support. As I've never taken any notice of Lent in my whole life (and, it has to be said, neither have the others until the last couple of years when it has happened to coincide with, and be a good vehicle for, competitive denial/one-upsmanship/moral high ground claims), I am bemused by the enthusiasm being shown for asceticism.
But, like those coaches who travel behind the shockingly thin elite cyclists in cushioned car comfort (and no doubt with a good supply of snacks), I am prepared to support my own team of Lent competitors. To this end, I am baking buns today, pancakes tomorrow, then hiding my chocolate for the next six and a half weeks.