Did you overindulge this festive season? Did you scarf down too many savouries at your work do? Did you have scorched almonds as a pre-breakfast snack on Christmas day? Then did you stuff yourself with turkey and trifle? Did you channel Nigella Lawson and eat cold roast spuds straight from the refrigerator in the still of the night? Did Boxing Day lunch consist of leftover ham, potato chips and Roses chocolates? Even people who usually have the most restrained eating habits can break out at this time of year and wake up on New Year's Day with a sense of guilt and some unwanted flab.
Gyms all over the country understand the body hatred many of us are experiencing right now. They know that the weak-willed among us have pigged out and will be feeling a deep sense of self-loathing - and January is traditionally the time when gyms try to capitalise on this knowledge. There will be a flood of special deals so you can join up, get fit and lose that spare tyre and muffin top.
Gyms know their target market well. They understand that the people who can't decline an extra helping of tiramisu will similarly be unable to resist the offer of a cheap and fast fix to their weighty woes. Gyms stay solvent thanks to customers who lack both will power and staying power.
I'm not a fan of gyms. I don't like their business model. Surely if they had faith in their services they would allow people to be casual users who are able to simply pay when they turn up for a class or a weights session. Instead they want you to join for one, two or three years. There are even lifetime memberships for those with an eye on the future. You are locked in for the long-term. Cutting ties with a gym can be as difficult as escaping from a cult.
I struggle to think of other service providers who operate like this. Imagine if, instead of requiring you to pay per visit, movie theatres made you sign up to be a member. For a monthly fee, this membership would entitle you to see as many films as you like. Or imagine if your GP operated in this way. It just doesn't make sense. Why don't gyms operate on the pay-as-you-go system that serves other industries so well?
The answer to that lies in cynical gym owners who are well aware of the failings of human beings. They know that a sizeable proportion of us will wake up on January 1st feeling both fat and unfit. That means we're sitting ducks for whatever special offer gyms see fit to dish up. So we sign on enthusiastically, envisaging the months of fitness and fabulousness that lie ahead. We will be transformed.
Except we won't, and gym owners both know it and love it. What happens all too often is that we turn up regularly for the first few weeks and then our motivation wanes and our attendance tapers off until we stop going altogether - by which stage the only thing shrinking each month is our bank balance. Our waistline and our thighs remain stubbornly robust.
And it's this truth that gym owners shamelessly exploit. They pretend to have their customers' best interests at heart but that's laughable. They know that if every member turned up at once to use the facilities there would be no room to move. The spaces would be so crowded it would be dangerous. That nice friendly gym worker who sits you down and signs you up is just a cog in the wheel of an industry that is able to function only because it knows your New Year's resolve to reinvent yourself will have evaporated by February. They want you to fail. This is how they stay in business. They still get your money even when you've officially given up on them.
So when the advertisements start and you're tempted by cheap deals and the promise of miraculous physical transformations, my advice is to resist the New Year gym offers and reassess the situation later. If you're still keen to sign up by the end of March then at least you'll know the decision wasn't made at a weak moment when your self-esteem was at an all-time low.
Have you joined a gym through a New Year deal? How long did your resolve last?