Eat far too much over Christmas? Still feeling stuffed? Not moved out of the armchair since Boxing Day and are building up a rather impressive collection of sweet wrappers and empty cans around your body?
When your thoughts have moved on from reaching for the empty Quality Street tin and phoning work to tell them that you won’t be in today (using a rather farfetched and pathetic ‘family bereavement’ excuse), an almost instant reaction switches to the new years resolutions.
‘This year, for my new year resolution I will give up the food. I will lose weight! Yes, I will be so fit and healthy that I will fit in that 10 man tent I got for Christmas!’
Never has a phrase been used so much but meant so little. It ranks up there with such classics as; ‘Thanks Nan for the HMV gift certificate’ and ‘No dear, of course I won’t be late, I’m only having the one drink’.
But alas, many of us Brits in particular will make this pledge, and with the best intentions too. A couple of years ago, that meant running down to town and buying the latest gadget, the Wii Fit. Nowadays, there is no real tecchy gadget come out that will spur you on. Obviously there is still the Wii Fit, but also the Playstation Move and Xbox Kinect. All offer a wide range of fitness software, which is aimed at all ages. I’m pretty sure that these items will fly off the shelves this month.
I have a confession.
I too made this pledge (like many times before) and intend to stick to it. No, really.
I conceded this year that I am not getting younger. A bold statement at the age of thirty, but with two young children now dependent on me, I need to be able to get off the floor without the aid of a nearby piece of furniture. Or be able to run more than six foot without the need for instant replenishment of oxygen and water.
For me, it’s different this time, I actually have goals I want to achieve and a real need to trim down. I hope this gives me the impetus to carry on eating right and exercising beyond the month of January. My previous record was that I made it to March, but then it was my birthday and I decided I needed to treat myself by getting bladdered for a week, topping each night off with a selection of deep fried, unidentified meat from the local snack bar. Hold the salad.
I sympathise with all the others attempting the same feat with the best intentions in the world, and I wish them good luck for the future. Many of you will fall before February, some of you will last ‘til Easter and only a few will continue into the months to come, with the prospect of lots of salad in the Summer. Nice.
Remember though, it’s not a race, it’s a marathon. Which is a race. But not a sprint. You know what I mean.
That Makes Two 