NEW YEAR, NEW WHO?

It’s that time of year again, when the Christmas tree has wilted and those advance train tickets back to University are looking more and more appealing. And as anyone with social media knows, this is the season for a slew of New Year’s resolutions – most of them involving neon Lycra and/or protein powder. As any upstanding B-lister has already publicly declared, this is the time to “get back on the band wagon”, pump some green juice through our veins and chuck the mince pies in the bin.

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Usually, this barrage of plant-based enthusiasm provides nothing for me other than the fuel for some light mocking. And yet, as I found myself driving past yet another herd of sweating cyclists on my bi-weekly mulled wine run, I began to question my cynicism; perhaps these people had it right. After all, they would be the ones with the endorphins and the bikini bodies when July rolled in. They would be able to show off their toned abs on #fitnessfriday and receive the envious glances and inevitable “Have you lost weight? You look great!”

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Perhaps, I thought to myself, this was my chance to finally become a lean, mean, green-eating machine that could conquer life in a pair of leggings. In other words, maybe this was a chance to finally accept my body and perhaps, even become proud of it.

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Later, with a glass of mulled wine in hand and these thoughts still rolling round in my – now somewhat fuzzy – head, I hopped onto Instagram and began to scroll through various fitness posts tagged #fitspiration, double tapping motivational quotes and pictures until one picture stopped me in my tracks. It pictured an emaciated young woman, only covered by the words; ‘Do it to shock them all’.

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I wonder, is this why most people would do it? Are the early morning hot yoga classes, charcoal smoothies and pure decimation of our self-esteem used to motivate ourselves simply undergone in pursuit of the jealousy of others? I wonder if we really gain enough from those #gains to warrant so much effort. Surely we have a lot more to give to those around us than the proud before and after mirror photos which we work so hard towards.

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Suddenly, my zeal for January fitness plummeted to the minus numbers. I began to think of all the other areas of my life I could improve; the quality of my studying, the amount I call my mother, whether or not I choose to antagonise my roommate by forgetting to tidy my room – goals which involve more than just my body. Improving these things could help not only me but, in some quiet way, those I choose to call my loved ones.

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So as 2019 begins to take shape, perhaps the best New Year’s resolution I could make would simply be to move through my life with the intention of making both myself and those around me happy – whether that involves a treadmill or not is completely coincidental.