Every year, it’s the same story. January 1 arrives, everyone makes declarations that they’re going to be healthier, thinner, smarter, prettier, richer this year.
Then February arrives and it’s goodbye gym, hello sweatpants.
I’m the same way. Every year I promise myself to work out harder, eat healthier and lose the post-college weight that I’ve tacked on. I’m going to do it right this year, I say as I write down the promise to myself that I won’t spend a dime on another pair of shoes.
This year, I got close. I definitely visited the gym after work much more than I did in years past, and I feel like I finally got a grip on what a good meal plan looks like. I’ve started a nice savings account. I’m proud of myself.
But these past 2 months, all of that work this year was undone thanks to holidays. And that, my friends, is my downfall.
Yes, I can work out every day after work (hey, I even kind of like it I’ve discovered!). There’s even been weeks where I’ve worked out 3X a day while eating 0 carbs (those were the tough ones). I’ve had months where everything went to savings. But as soon as I get a little discouraged or hit a bump, the bad habits come back… with a vengeance.
So for 2016, I’m not gonna promise to cut out carbs completely or work out at the gym every single day no matter what or even save every last penny I make. Maybe I’m just getting wiser as I get older, but I know this just isn’t going to happen. If anything, those kinds of goals will drive me insane as I try (and then fail) to complete them, inevitably leading to that oh-so-familiar discouragement that knocks me off track.
Instead, I want 2016 to be a year of growth and consistency.
Learning that just because I’m pigging out on pizza Friday night doesn’t mean I have to throw away my planned Saturday workout because, come on, what’s the point now?
Accepting the fact that I can have a few too many glasses of wine at Christmas without having to go out all weekend, or that it’s okay to have a lazy stay-in-bed-watching-Scandal-all-day Saturday as long as Sunday is spent productively.
It’ll be a great year to do it. I’m moving out of my parents’ house in February, an exciting yet scary thought. Not only am I moving out of the place I’ve called home for 24 years, but I’m moving in with my boyfriend, a huge step in our relationship. I’ll have more control over my life. I’ll be taking on more responsibility at work. I’ve finally got a decent grip on “adulting.” If the year I turn 25 isn’t the year of growth and consistency, then what is?
Yes, 2016 will be the year of growth and consistency, but maybe a better word is balance. To balance the visits to the gym with exciting trips to San Diego or Bonita Springs (both on the list for next year!). To balance the new adventures with Tom with the mundane activities like picking out silverware. Straddle the line between happy and healthy. The line between enjoying my youth and realizing that I’m halfway to 30.
It’s scary. It’s exciting. And it’s sorta sad, all at the same time.
Here’s to 2016, which I’m sure will be one hell of a year.