It’s around this time of year that people say goofy things like “(Upcoming Year) is totally gonna be my year.” I usually think that’s corny. And cliche. However, this is probably the one year I’m thinking something along those lines.
Case in point: several big events and trips in 2012, as well as the possibility of becoming a homeowner.
Yes, I could be jinxing it right now..and I could also end up with a New Year’s Eve kiss that somehow throws a kink in the system like previous ones have done. (2006 and 2011 were two such circumstances. What can I say? I have questionable taste in boys. I blame alcohol).
But yeah, 2012 is a big year for a lot of reasons and I plan to, among other things and pardon the French – make it my bitch.
Step 1 in doing so? Shape up or ship out. I’ve already hired a trainer that I’m pretty sure will allow me to pay her in hugs. She’s a beast of an athlete whose motivation and accomplishments I’m in awe of and I’m also pretty sure she’s going to make me run much more than I want to. She’s training for a mini-marathon and wants to do Ironman and I’m lucky if I can run for longer than the 3 minutes the Couch to 5K lady forced me to do back when I was trying to be athletic before.
Step 2? Eat better. Let me proclaim here and now that starting Jan. 1 (actually starting now, I guess, because I’ve done well the past couple of days) I am a pescetarian. I Wikipedia’d it for you for explanations’ sake, but the even shorter version is no meat for this girl. Just fish.
So yeah, that means no ribs, no chicken, no steak. And no hamburgers, which I’ve brought in some help on. My cubicle buddy at work is not a hamburger fan. Naturally, she was the one I went to first to recruit as my at-work conscience. Whenever she sees me leave to get lunch somewhere, she’s to remind me not to get a hamburger. And after a discussion the other day on things that grossed us out to the point of gagging, she found out MY aversion to some things, namely silverfish and maggots.
Excuse me, I threw up.
Excuse me, I threw up again.
So, since making this proclamation to myself and one or two others, I’ve stuck to the fish thing, except for that not-really-very-good grilled chicken sandwich I got for lunch the other day. And it hasn’t been that hard.
Also, everyone I’ve told has been supportive. My family is supportive, however, Mom has yet to grasp the name of what it is I’m doing. For example, the other day she said “It’s a good time to become a Presbyterian or whatever that thing you’re doing is called.”
Well, I’m already a presbyterian and I’m pretty sure that has nothing to do with not eating meat. In fact, I think I’ve had more fried chicken — all kinds of chicken, really — at that church and with people from it than anywhere else.
I guess you could call this a resolution, but I’m not going to. It’s a test of my willpower and motivation, and you can expect plenty of updates, I’m sure, on the progress throughout the next year for sure and however long I can keep it up. Maybe forever?
You’ll hear about the good and the bad, too, like when I realize what I can’t have now. Most recent realization? Buffalo Chicken Dip. Dammit.