The first rule of the Keto diet: Don't talk about the Keto diet

Two months into the year, we should know how our resolutions are turning out, right? I resolved not to hit myself in the forehead with a hammer every day, and that one's going great. But I'm about to break another resolution, right here.

It had to do with the Keto diet. The resolution was simple: Go on the diet, but don't make a point of telling everyone, "Hey, I'm doing Keto!" Because no one cares.

What is Keto? Well, you eliminate carbs, including sugar. Most people's response:

"I see. And why would I do this? Why would I forswear fresh crusty bread, the boon — nay, the very spark of civilization? Long ago our ancestors invented bread, and then they needed butter, so they domesticated cows, and then they needed jam, so they invented spreadable fruit in the Mesopotamian region of Smuckeria.

"Then they needed a perfect place to enjoy this, so France was invented, and they all moved to Paris and sat outside wishing someone would invent cigarettes, but really, that can wait, it's not good for you.

"Humankind is distinct from all creatures on Earth in our ability to make bread. You don't see apes in the wild banging shafts of wheat together, wishing it would make a loaf. Why would I give up bread?"

Well, so your pants fit. And then you can eat bread again! Until your pants don't fit. But it's not just bread. It's all the processed stuff, like French fries, potato chips ...

Yes, although you can splurge sometimes and have half a bun and a few fries, if you had a good session on the treadmill, running for miles while standing in place, thudding along in a plain metaphor for the desperate futility of existence, sure, you can have some carbs.

I realize it sounds as if these foods are dearly missed and regarded with an almost erotic sense of longing, but no. Eventually you admit carbs back into your diet. You realize that eggs with sausage and salsa are better than a bowl of Lucky Charms.

Which brings me to the substance that really makes me sound like one of those hair-shirt nutrition cranks trying to sell you Bolivian algae suppositories: sugar.

It's in everything. A diet that says "no sugar" is like an elocution coach who says "use no words that contain the letter E."

We love sugar! And why not? It makes you happy. You bite down on a warm cinnamon bun slathered with icing, and your brain swoons and reels: "Whoo, boy. Ohh, yeah." But it's as if everything in the modern diet is accompanied by a pastry chef who sidles up to the table, nods at your plate and says, "Some icing, monsieur? Say when."

It's nuts. I mean, literally — I bought some nuts the other day that had added sugar, but it was somehow OK because it was "honey roasted," which sounds like industrious bees are turning the legumes on a spit over a little flame. For cute!

"So you're saying this diet requires you to give up bread and sugar?" Yes. For a while. I realize that this is the modern equivalent of an aesthetic monk in a cold medieval cell ,whipping himself with a thin, harsh lash, but hear me out.

The other morning I had an English muffin with cream cheese and jam. I swear it was like those stories you read about people who lick an Amazon frog and have a vision quest. Same thing when you finally allow yourself a dish of chocolate ice cream: You realize how sugar is just amazing, and maybe you'd appreciate it more if you weren't hoovering it up by the tablespoon at every meal.

So I did the Keto and returned to the gym every day, and for once the resolution looks like it'll make it to March. Eat less junk, move more, feel better! It's possible.

"So, carbs, sugar — that means no wine, no hooch at all?"