Time for all the new year’s posts, all the resolutions, all the “new year, new me” hoo-rah promises. Time for the gym to be packed, only to empty out by Valentine’s Day. Time for a lot of fleeting, well-intentioned vows of change that likely won’t take root.
That’s what I have done every year, for many years. “This is going to be MY year!” Woo-hoo, fist bump, oh yeah…wait, is that a cheeseburger?
Not this year. Not that I don’t have goals for this year. I’m just not going to pretend that the start of a new year is any different than the start of any other new day. I’ve had the opportunity to make changes each morning. I haven’t done it…yet.
There’s nothing magical about New Year’s Day that makes it any easier. But maybe, this time, this year, I am finally fed up with starting a new year with the same damn blasted goals I have had for the past endless, countless years, and I just can’t tolerate the same old, same old anymore.
Thankfully, my cough has slowed way down. It’s a minor annoyance now. I finished the antibiotics and have eased up on all the other medications, trying to rid my body of all these chemicals. I am still stuffy and feel like I should walk around with a tissue duct-taped to my nose, but no fever, so there is nothing stopping me from getting back to working out.
I started yesterday, as soon as I got up. I am weak from being sick, so I just did a Leslie Sansone walking workout. I managed 3 miles and didn’t die, so I guess I will keep going!
Sweat & Sparkle 