I knew a guy called Dale. He was a classic alpha; a rugged, handsome baseball coach, sporty and athletic as you’d expect. However, he had a prominent beer gut.

Dale was a drinker. He’d stay out so late on a Saturday night that every Sunday would be wiped out. Whatever plans he had would have to be cancelled because he’d sleep in and be crook as a dog until late afternoon.

One day, out of the blue, he declared that he was going to quit drinking altogether. Though I suspect he was an alcoholic, his stated aim was to get more done. He saw how much of his life was being pissed up the wall and decided he needed to change if he was going to get anywhere.

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