I've been doing penance for my bad behavior during the holidays. I massaged kale and consumed it. I vacuumed, drank a bunch of water with lemon in it (helps convince me it's worth drinking), folded some laundry, and went for a run.
Finally, like many of you, I made some resolutions. During the beginning of 2015, the darkest time of the year, it felt nice to set my own light out ahead. Here's my advice for how to achieve some outdoors-oriented goals you may have established.
Set a crazy goal and plot steps to reach it
My 2015 goal is to complete an Ironman-distance triathlon in October. This is a 2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, and 26.2-mile run. A couple people have tried to congratulate me on it, and while I love well wishes I won't accept congratulations until I've actually completed the thing. I've never done an iron-distance triathlon before (although I did a half) and my confidence level is, well, not very high.
That said, part of my love of races is knowing that I have set (what felt like) insane goals beforehand, and over time I've trained myself to achieve them. As a kid who had chronic asthma, the first time I decided to walk up a mountain it was a crazy idea. Then one time I decided to run down my parents' block, eventually building up to a full hour, a half marathon, and finally a full marathon. Every time I set out to complete any kind of physical goal, though, I am again a kid wheezing up a mountain for the first time. I think I can achieve it if I go step by step and don't think too hard about the whole thing, but I'm not sure. The peak is always higher and more difficult to reach than it was last time. When I actually do reach the end I am -- every time -- surprised, elated, and convinced there's something else out there for me to try. Physical achievements unlock new possibilities in the rest of life.
For me, the new year is an awesome time to plot out the steps to reach this feeling again. So I've found my crazy goal, and am now selecting and mapping out the training plan to reach it.
Play outside, then play with your food
I get sad when I see those little, pre-wrapped snack packs of cookies or crackers that announce the calorie count right on the front. Same when I hear a request for an egg white omelette at the next table, or when people hate on butter and bacon. Gyms generally depress me because I watch people going nowhere on machines as hard as they can. Even though it's a fact of life, I find it depressing that my existence is contingent on a specific mix of energy in, energy out. I have amazing, and lucky, access to such excessive and delightful choices as hauling my butt up a mountain, to running a marathon, to creating and consuming a turducken. Why wouldn't I choose these experiences over a treadmill or egg white?
That said, I can feel my stepdaughter's eyes on me as I leave the house for a run. She has asked me before, what is fun about just running for the sake of running? There is no flag to capture. There are no boys to evade. There's not even anyone else to beat to a destination.
The truth is, running just for running is terrible, just like going to the gym to count down the calories is boring. Running, or gym-going, or any other physical activity is made much better by variety and unpredictability. I run up hills, or I run long and flat. I go hiking, snowshoeing, or skiing. I do a bunch of pushups if it's really nasty out or I'm unmotivated. This means that sometimes I might burn more calories, or less, and in fact I'm not ever quite sure how many calories I'm using. I just know I need to do something physical and preferably outside to keep my head on straight, and if I don't mix it up I will get bored.
I met a DJ once who told me he always leaves the party while it's still fun. It just gets depressing, he said, when he leaves too late and things are already winding down. He'd rather leave the memory of fun in partygoers' heads. I feel exactly that way about getting outside, exercising, and eating well. Outside, I want to push myself hard enough so I'm happy about what I've accomplished, but not so hard that I never want to do it again. In terms of eating well, I want to choose foods that I'll actually want to taste again. No, that does not include pre-packaged sad mini-cookies that tell me exactly how many units of energy they are worth. It does mean I try new recipes, and delight in going to restaurants that make food in a way I don't know how to make at home.
Bottom line: If I'm keeping things light and relatively fun, I'll want to do them again. Finding a way to strike this balance between resolve and play is a good rule of thumb for helping a new year's resolution stick.
Think of your 90-year-old self looking back at you
Last tip for helping make new year's resolutions stick: I picture myself, years from now, unable to do things I can do now. What scares me most in life is the thought of looking back and wishing I'd done more with my life.
New year resolutions are really nothing compared with that fear. What's the goal? Make more time for family, exercise more, less social media? Whatever it is any given year, I know it's truly nothing on the grand scale of my life and the lives of so many others making similar resolutions. Given the amazing things many people accomplish on any given day, I know I can do it.
I also know my 90-year-old self, sitting out there on her rocking chair and hopefully waving a cane around at belligerent children, would approve of at least trying. If nothing else, it'll be fun, and a memory someday.
Alli Harvey lives, works and plays in Anchorage.