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New Year's Resolutions...or Not

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An oldie but a goodie (from 2005- naughty words changed...)


As the new year rolls around, I have a list of resolutions which I hope to keep (unlike the last 40 years when I busted through them within the first 36 hours). What are my resolutions, you ask?

1. Never-mind.

But I am going to talk about this whole business of resolutions. Who out there has never made one? Anyone? Anyone? Who out there has never broken one? That's right. We all do it; make 'em then break 'em. Go into your local health club on the 1st Monday of a new year. There is not an empty piece of equipment in sight. The first Monday in February? About half of the machines are full. By March, you can use any piece of equipment you want, any time you want.

Why is this? Well I was going to ask a few friends, but seeing as how I'm writing this at 2:00 am, they are all asleep, except for one on the west coast who has been acting strangely (I think the Carousel of Progress scrambled his brains). So in an effort to uncover what the heck is up, I conducted a scintillating interview with myself.

Me: "So Whitney, why is it that people can't stick to their resolutions for more than a few weeks?"

Whitney: "Because most people have the lazy butt gene. Besides, it's boring."

Me: "What about the promises you make to yourself?"

Whitney: "Eh, if you can't break a promise to yourself, who can you break one with?"

Me: "But don't you remember thinking at the end of last year, 'darn, If I'd just stuck to that resolution!'"

Whitney: "Well sure. I thought it this year too. But I also remember eating black-eyed peas at the first of the year, which are supposed to insure a good year. If the peas can't keep their end of the bargain, why should I?"

There was more to the interview but basically it consisted of me arguing with myself about the merits of boots vs. high heeled sandals in the winter. For the record, it was a tie. The sandals have the sex appeal factor, but the boots are warm and generally more comfortable (which made me mourn my recently deceased snakeskin boots-- my puppy chewed them up).

Why bother with resolutions? Resolutions are often made in the throes of Christmas party drunkenness. Being fit enough to run a marathon sounds so cool when you're drunk. But then in the harsh light of a sober morning, it just sounds like a lot of hard work. But the rub is that we are too embarrassed to admit that our grand plans were really just drunken grandstanding. So, as in most things, we stick to our story, no matter how preposterous. In our lame attempts to convince everyone, we even go through the motions of carrying out said resolution. Then after a few weeks, when we think no one is looking, we think to ourselves, "forget this". If anyone asks, that sore knee from high school has been acting up. And then when next December rolls around, and the old year is once again coming to a close, we promise ourselves that we will only resolve to be able to run a mile. And we mean it, until that poor jerk at next year's Christmas party starts up about the triathlon in July.

So this year, I vow to keep my resolutions to myself. That way come March I won't have to explain my lame-o actions to anyone. It will remain between me, and the peas.

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