So, when it comes to eating healthy, it's just doing the right

In the words of Mike Ditka, “So, when it comes to eating healthy, it's just doing the right thing. And it's not something you have to do 365 days a year, but I think it's something you have to do 25 days a month. Let’s put it that way,” we find a truth both humble and profound. These are not the words of a philosopher cloaked in abstraction, but of a man who has lived the rigors of discipline and the demands of balance. In this quote, Ditka, the fierce coach and the steadfast warrior, reveals a principle that echoes through the ages — the call to moderation, the path between obsession and neglect. He speaks of health, yes, but beneath his words lies a broader wisdom: that consistency with mercy is stronger than perfection without joy.

To “do the right thing” is the core of his teaching. The ancients would have called it virtus — the moral excellence of choosing rightly even when the choice is not easy. Yet Ditka’s greatness lies in his humanity: he does not demand unbroken perfection. He knows, as the Stoics once taught, that man is not divine but striving; that to live well is not to never err, but to return, again and again, to the path of virtue. In his measure — “25 days a month” — there is generosity. He recognizes that the spirit must breathe, that a man who allows himself no release becomes brittle and weary. Thus, the discipline he preaches is not that of chains, but of rhythm: steadfastness balanced by grace.

The ancients of both East and West would have nodded at his wisdom. The Buddha, after years of ascetic denial, found enlightenment not in starvation but in the Middle Way — between indulgence and deprivation. Likewise, Ditka’s “25 days” reflects that sacred middle path: enough to build strength, but not so rigid as to break the will. For to live in balance is to live in truth. The body, like the spirit, thrives in harmony, not extremity. The athlete who trains without rest burns out; the man who eats without joy starves his soul. In all things, balance sustains what passion alone begins.

Consider the story of Milo of Croton, the ancient Greek athlete renowned for his strength. It is said that he trained by carrying a calf each day until it grew into a full-grown bull — a lesson in discipline and progression. Yet legend also tells that when Milo became proud, thinking himself invincible, he attempted to tear apart a great oak with his bare hands and was trapped within it, devoured by beasts. So too does Ditka’s wisdom guard us against that pride — the arrogance of excess, whether of indulgence or of denial. The oak teaches that even strength must respect nature’s limits, just as Ditka reminds us that health is not about endless austerity but steady dedication with humility.

When Ditka says, “It’s not something you have to do 365 days a year,” he speaks to the truth of human endurance. Perfection is an illusion — a candle that burns too bright and too fast. But consistency, sustained by compassion, builds the kind of resilience that endures a lifetime. The ancients compared virtue to the steady flame of the lamp — it flickers, perhaps, but does not die. So must our care for the body be: persistent, forgiving, adaptable. It is not failure to rest; it is wisdom to know when to begin again.

Moreover, Ditka’s words remind us that health is not only a matter of diet, but of character. “Doing the right thing” extends beyond food — it is an approach to life. The one who eats wisely learns to live wisely: with self-control, awareness, and respect for balance. The ancients knew that the care of the body was inseparable from the care of the soul. The philosopher Epictetus taught that discipline in the small things prepares the mind for the greater tests of life. To choose well in what we eat is to practice the art of choosing well in all things — to temper desire with discernment, to serve the long good rather than the fleeting pleasure.

Let this teaching, then, be remembered: do the right thing often, and forgive yourself when you falter. The path to health, to strength, to wisdom, is not paved with perfection, but with persistence. Eat well most days, rest well often, and live with integrity always. Allow yourself moments of joy, for joy sustains discipline far longer than denial. In time, the body and the spirit will align — not through force, but through faithfulness.

Thus, the wisdom of Mike Ditka endures beyond the realm of sport and nutrition. It is a philosophy of life itself — a reminder that greatness lies not in doing everything right, but in doing the right things, again and again, with patience and resolve. For the true warrior of life is not the one who never stumbles, but the one who rises, steady and wise, 25 days out of every month.