I do not make New Year’s resolutions. Nope. Never have. Never will. So everything I’m about to start today isn’t because it’s January 1st, it’s simply because it’s the day I finally decided to just do it.
I want to start writing again. I used to write. A lot. It was pretty damn therapeutic for me to pour a stiff drink and spill my guts out to a computer keyboard. But then I went and did something crazy … I got happy. I found a great guy, quit my under-paid, over-stressed corporate job and started working with my boyfriend for his company. I purged toxic friends, focused on the things I love and somehow stopped needing the therapy of words.
But then somewhere in that happy I got lazy. Ok, maybe not lazy the way most people would define it. I’m probably the furthest thing from a couch potato ever. But instead of putting in six days a week of running, biking, swimming, whatever-ing, I’m lucky these days if I motivate for two or three. It’s time to get back in shape. So today I started “streaking”. An agreed upon daily goal between me and a handful of friends. Fifty sit-ups, 50 pushups and a minimum two mile run … every. single. day.
So no New Year’s resolutions here. Just a plan to reconnect with a few things I love and miss.