First came the season of giving, followed very closely by the season of resolving. I can’t say it was a fully conscious decision, but this year I abstained from taking a ride down Eminent Failure Avenue, also known as New Year’s resolutions.
Like basically every person alive, I have typically set myself up for failure each year by making New Year’s resolutions. The goals have always been respectable and healthy, but such resolutions are like most other things born on a drawing board – whether that drawing board be real or metaphorical: they never work out in real life the way they were imagined when conceived. And that’s if they work out in any form at all rather than taking a one-way trip to the circular filing cabinet.
I have a buddy who has always been a gym junkie. He works out several times a week at the gym near our neighborhood and recently mentioned a phenomenon that he had witnessed in past years but has just recently noticed: going to the gym and actually finding available equipment in early January is difficult during peak hours. Normally, he’s able to walk into the gym and immediately start working out on any type of machine he wishes to use. At the moment, however, he frequently spends most of his allotted time waiting.
In a few more weeks, according to my buddy’s best guess, things will be back to normal and he’ll once again be able to hit the gym without having to add thumb twiddling to his routine. The reason for this, of course, is that a majority of the influx is comprised of people who are trying their best to make good on New Year’s resolutions. As is the case every year, according to my friend, these people will start dropping like flies in terms of gym attendance.
He’s not looking down at his nose when he talks about these people, of course. The next part of the conversation consisted of him complaining about his own new failures in the resolution department.
His little anecdote points out the futility of New Year’s Resolutions. Why do we do it to ourselves? I suppose I should ask, “Why do you guys do it to yourselves?”, as I have chosen to turn my back on that ritual this year. I already know I need to work out, make better choices about what I eat, and spend more time writing. I don’t need a significant date on the calendar to remind me that I’ve got a lazy streak, a sweet tooth and an expanding gut.
I’ll do my best on the eating and exercising issues, but one thing I certainly plan to improve upon is the time I allot for writing. I love writing and would like to someday make some extra money with it (ok, I would like to become world-famous and insufferably rich with it).
I realize that I have essentially made a New Year’s resolution with that last statement, but it’s now January 11th – so I’m free and clear. After 11:59 pm on January 1, such statements are plans – not resolutions – and therefore not susceptible to the same high risk of failure.
That’s what I’m resolving to tell myself, at least.
