If the lack of available treadmills in the gym is any indication, it’s clearly the week after Christmas. New Year’s Day is still a few days away, but the world is already in resolution mode. Visions of sugar plums and jingles of sleigh bells have morphed into visions of low-fat salad dressing and jingles of coins filling the empty bellies of hungry piggy banks.
Not to be outdone, I got home from the gym last night and sat down to a nice candle-lit dinner for one over a lovely plate of dry spinach to begin mentally drafting my own list of resolutions. Three bites in I realized there’s probably a template on the internet for this… a checklist of pounds to lose and places to travel and forgotten hobbies to pick up anew. Actually, I bet we could all dig up our resolution lists from the last fifteen years, dump them in a pile in the middle of the room then play go fish, and we’d all come out winners. In fact, isn’t this just another incarnation of the “starting Monday” nonsense we pull approximately every third Thursday whilst sitting at happy hour with a fourth martini in one hand and a fifteenth French fry in the other?
We are a people who love to resolve. We like to make lists, mark calendars, update statuses and, best of all, we like to alert our friends to our intentions. I know which days my best friend hits the gym, I know how many ounces of cheese my mom added to her pasta last night, I know about the coupons my neighbor has cut, and thanks to Twitter everyone knows how sore my abs are (yeah I’m guilty too). I also know that in about two months, the momentum will slow, and we’ll give ourselves reason to start all over again on some random Monday.
So in lieu of the cookie cutter resolutions of yore, this year I’m keeping it simple:
1) Start a blog (check)
2) Give up fitness magazines (a terrible horrible vice that deserves its own post)
3) Not use the phrase “starting Monday” once in 2011 unless mocking others
That’s it. That’s all I resolve this year. As for everything else, I’ll just do it. Silently.