Who’s with me out there?

Is anyone else making the annual migration back to a healthy lifestyle? Maybe you’ve only just tossed out the empty champagne bottles and crumb laden cookie tins. Maybe you finished off that last bite of Trader Joe’s English toffee at midnight last Sunday since the kids would be going back to school and normal things can be normal again. Maybe you just said hey, enough is enough.

No wait… that was probably me with the toffee…

Okay, well, now that it’s out there, you know what I hate? I mean, not like in a dislike, would rather walk around, prefer a different thing, or politely decline tepid way. You know what I absolutely loathe? Actively despise? Contemplate violent resistance to? Want to hunt down and kill and eat? You know what I really want gone from this entire cosmic envelope we’re all trying to push together?

I hate New Years’ Resolutions.

And not for the obvious reasons. I mean everyone hates New Years’ Resolutions, because they’re fraught with uncertainty. They require modification of habits we wouldn’t really have if we didn’t like them, and they are plain old donkey-ball licking sucky, particularly if you’ve only recently enjoyed a solid six weeks of excess and you don’t necessarily want the party to end.

I did enjoy the party, thank you very much. I don’t even feel particularly bad about it. Oh, sure.  I contemplate esoteric things like my mortality, and how many minutes that toffee will shave off my life. I worry about passing along bad habits to my kids. I hate how hard it is to get back on track with exercise when you’ve been indolent for a while. But the party must end some time, and that time is now. Does that sound frighteningly like a New Years’ Resolution? I does! I mean, it’s sickening how much I sound like my arch enemy, Captain Perfection. Like I’m going to do a clean sweep. Like when I’m done, my entire life will be in black-and-white and shades of gray, and not in the fun and spanky way. It feels like there will be no color anymore until next holiday season. And then I start to think of how awful it is if I screw up, if I find another piece of toffee between the cushions of the couch and it isn’t too covered in dog hair and I eat it! What if I do that and break my New Years’ Resolution? What does that say about me?

And okay, even if you know know you’re going to toss out your resolution in 3…2…1

And even if you don’t care about breaking a resolution because you know almost everyone in the world does, do you know what else I totally hate? I hate having people think the new helmet and bike lock I bought for myself is the result of some ephemeral plan I have based on waking up with a hangover. Because it’s not. I don’t like my old helmet, it makes me feel like an idiot. (If I must wear a helmet, and I really must, otherwise, how can I make my kids wear one then I want a skateboard stye, and not a biking helmet. It’s a personal preference.)

So yeah, okay? SEE? I haven’t been lured by the clock toward fitness–by the calendar. I’m here because of the compass. Because YES, gosh darn it! I’ve been heading in this direction for over a year now, and I’ve done enough, all year, that I can own that. But even if I hadn’t been working at this, I’d still never invoke the magical thinking–the New Year, New You mentality because I just know…I KNOW magical thinking is for elves and Hobbitses and magicians and I dunno. People who want magic to solve their problems for them.

So. I hate New Years’ Resolutions and I don’t want to make them, even when I know the party has to end. That’s not what I am about. That’s not who I am. That’s not how I do…

Which, ironically –correct me if I’m wrong here but I think this can be defined as ironic– makes me REALLY embarrassed to attend the winter session running academy class I signed up for a while ago, because I just know everyone will believe I’m only going because of some New Years’ Resolution. See the paragraph before this one. I Do Not. Do. That.

But whatever, I got over it and it’s a blast. Which leads me to another thought, why is it when I had four kids under six to take care of I decided that was the perfect time to go back to college and why, oh, why when I grew old enough to really, really regret the toll being out of shape has taken on my joints, I just had to take a running class. My daughter says I just hate to be told, “NO.” and she’s probably right.

Anyway, I look damn cute in my new tennis ball yellow and neon orange active wear, and no, I am not buying that reflective gear because of a New Years’ Resolution, I’m buying it because my class trains at night and I don’t want to get hit by a car, no matter what time of year it is.

Whatcha up to out there? Are you slogging back into a healthy lifestyle after a mini break? Did you keep it healthy all along? Are you making a resolution because you don’t see them as the evil, slime-covered underbelly of the hell-beast I like to call prudent living?

Remember! we’re changing the format of the blog just a bit. In the past, we’ve offered one Sunday Brunch commenter a $5.00 Amazon gift card each week, but that only covered Sunday’s posts. From now on, we’ll award ONE lucky commenter a month a $20.00 Amazon gift certificate. No one is looking, so you can buy books. You can buy exercise gear. Go ahead and comment. You know you want to! Plus, I need you to entertain me while I’m in eggnog withdrawal.

This means we’ll be taking every comment I get on every bog post, and at the end of the month I’ll choose ONE winner. So comment away, each and every comment you leave from now on has an an opportunity to win!