I was sitting at O'Connor's Pub in Worcester last week tweeting to Gary Kelley, Wesborough restaurant blogger and reviewer extraordinaire, asking him his take on the restaurant—was it a green, red or yellow light?

Prompt in his reply, he told me it had been a couple of years, but a green light it was, for Irish pub fare. 

Great, I thought, it's a safe bet and our server is probably just having an off night.

I thought our tweet session was finished when the little birdie notified me of another message: Somehow I suspect it's not on Weight Watchers, either. He said, adding Yes, I read your posts with envy. 

Gary was on to me. And he wasn't the only one. I had emails from seven readers (!) who noticed my Foursquare check-in and contacted me with words of support and reminding me of my promise to not eat at a restaurant that week.

In a moment I realized I wasn't fooling just myself. The readers of this blog, many of whom email me weekly rather than comment in public—all of whom have struggled with weight and know the boat I'm steering, were looking out for me. 

I was almost relieved—like a sin had been confessed; like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I could stop telling myself it was OK to fall off the wagon weekly. I had to stop.

Without thinking, I asked the server for a box, sliced my battered fish in half, and downed only half the pint I ordered. (I couldn't let it go to waste entirely. It was Arthur Guinness Day, after all!)

For the first time in a long time I walked out of O'Connor's having had a genteel sufficiency rather than a fool's feast and it felt wonderful.

Thank you Gary (and the other seven readers who wish to remain anonymous) for the gentle reminder!

By the way, I am down 1.9 pounds this week.