New Year's Resolutions are a joke. I don't make them. I never stick with things, so I break the promises to myself, and then get mad and disappointed at my inability to pursue something resolutely. Losing weight, eating healthy, quality time with the kids? All these things fall by the wayside by the Super Bowl in epic fail fashion.
Year after year, I utter such things as: "This is the year I will do a better job at keeping the house clean, organized and tidy," or "This is the year I'll drop 20 pounds." The house is a continual disaster, and while I never put weight ON it certainly does not come off. So screw it.
Elsewhere on the internet I think the resolution machine has also broken down. When I first started writing a journal in 2001, I noted that my reads would write lists of admirable goals. I noticed this year only one of the people I read actually has a list of goals and resolutions for 2009. I think the wheels fell off our collective wagon, and we're all done with making promises we cannot keep.
So instead of resolving to drop those 20 pounds (really, it should be 80 but let's not mince, shall we?) or put away the pile of crap that has been in the corner of my room since we moved here in 2006, I instead have simpler promises.
I plan to write more.
I plan to sit down and put an entry in at least once a week. No more of this 10-20 days between entries crap. At least once a week. And so far, this is my second one this week so I'll be sure to strain a muscle as I pat myself on the back.
Also, I've been inspired by someone I met on Flickr quite a while ago. His name is Mark, and he and his family live in the Seattle area. He set out to walk/hike/run 1000 miles in 2008. He did it... with completing his last 6 miles 2 days before the end of the year. Mark chronicled his progress with spreadsheets and photos along the way.
Now, a thousand is a lot of miles, so I am going to set the bar lower. I'm going to do 500 this year. Long time readers may hearken back to the geocaching days, when I easily did 500 miles a couple years running. We fell out of the hobby as it got contentious when Doug would consistently go off trail and bushwhack through the woods and we'd all end up injured horribly, thorns and nettles ripping our flesh. It became no fun, and we all would bitch at him. So slowly we stopped going, because he got weary of being yelled at when he turned into Captain Bushwhack, and I just got sick of poison ivy and crying children.
I would like to return to geocaching, without the nettles and crying children. So I will figure out a plan to set to and get going on it when the roads are not treacherously icy. And that's about it.
We'll see how I do with both, shall we?
With that -- time to get ready for work. More later.
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