Like many people, I stepped on the scale at the end of 2015 and thought, “Ah, well that explains why my pants don’t fit.”
December can be a month of excesses. The holidays themselves are stressful, and everywhere you look there is chocolate or a tray of cookies, or several bottles of wine or a giant roast or an open bar or more cookies, all crying out, “Yes, you can have it all! Have everything! So what? It’s the end of the year. You can start over again in January.”
Then comes the uptick in gym memberships, crowded Weight Watchers meetings, the sales on “healthy” food at the grocery store, and a battery of good intentions that may or may not evolve into Actual Accomplishments. I don’t make resolutions; I set goals. I started doing this at the start of 2010, sticking about 30 post-its to my refrigerator, each baring a goal for the year. “Go out dancing”, “Get a new job”, “Michelle Obama arms” were among the notes. I managed to knock out 26 of the 30, and I had a really good year.
This year I have far fewer goals. Things are good, I’m happy, and there are really just a few things I want to do. First on my list: be healthier. That’s vague, so I’ve broken it down to three key goals: (1) get back on the wagon with healthy cooking and eating, (2) go stone sober for the month of January, and (3) start and maintain a workout routine in the gym area I’ve made for myself at home.
The second thing on my list of goals is Write More, and yes—I know that’s vague too. BUT, I’ve set a goal of three hours of writing per week, which isn’t that much, but it’s something I can manage between work and well, life crap. I spent about four hundred bucks to take a class in memoir writing, thinking it would give me discipline and focus. And it kinda did, until I realized it wasn’t the kind of writing I wanted to do. Then I hated it, and then I dropped the class. At first I felt guilty, but why? I’m not in college. I don’t need to waste hours and hours of time on something I’m neither interested nor want to do. I do want to write recipes and meditations about food and the joy of using my first All Clad pan. I have the icky feeling, probably something in the shame family, about returning to a blog that I’ve stayed away from for so long because I either didn’t make the time or was terrified of writing something bad. Well, here I am.
Cheers to turning good intentions into Actual Accomplishments.
Cheers to doing.