Metamorphosis

Another full rotation is complete, achievements and conquests enter the record books. People hesitantly ask whether you’ve made any New Year’s Resolutions, or worse “are you doing dry January this year?” I am still taken by complete surprise when I find my inner cynic isn’t let loose to spit and bark about how resolutions are meaningless. A caterpillar weaves itself a cocoon, melts itself down and rebuilds itself, unrecognizable. This is how I think of the dramatic and obvious approach to the New Year. New me? On January the 1st, I bought a new toothbrush, toothpaste and put clean sheets on my bed. This is the most explosive change my life is likely to see this year. I’ll still take the time to admire some pretty wings though.
A Kite In the Trees
Give up smoking, express kindness and gratitude, go to the gym every day for 67 days and then binge on Netflix and crisps for the rest of the year. The only person you should try and be better than is yourself. If that means spending the next 365 days working on a singular improvement then you have my support. All I ask is that you go easy on yourself, a year is a long time to do or not do. Habits are tough to break or form. I failed last year, a lot. I didn’t write every day, I didn’t exercise every day, I didn’t meditate every day. My longest recorded streak is 34 days. Rather than aim for 365 consecutive days of something, all I have to do is 35. It doesn’t matter if I fail once, I have a little over 10 opportunities to succeed this year. I’m like a lizard, shedding my skin to emerge the same as I started, only a little bigger, a little stronger.
Isola San Giulio
I don’t have any great ambition to make significant change, which I suppose is one way of saying my life is in a good place. Yet, the New Year is a good time to set your goals. The big three for me are:
1.) Brew five beers
2.) Walk 50 more miles of the Southwest Coast Path
3.) Write at least 12 blog posts
I’ve already got my first beer in the fermenter, although I’ve cheated by using a kit. At the end of the day if it looks like a beer and tastes like a beer and that beer isn’t Fosters, who cares? Another four should be easy. only I might need some help drinking it to keep the production line open. Walking 50 miles still sounds easier than it actually is. That’s only 10 miles a day I told myself, knowing that after two days of rising and falling coastline I’d no doubt do myself another spot of mischief. I’ve already checked a couple of spots out. Weymouth to Lyme Regis is around 45 miles. A little under I know, but still a good stretch and the elevation is kinder. If I do it early and my legs don’t decide they don’t want to be legs anymore I could have time in later in the year to add to my tally.
Bottled Milk Stout
All I’ve had to do is write down what I want to achieve this year and I’ve finished my first post. I’ll admit it’s January and motivation is high so everything could still all fall apart. Based on my experiences of last year however, I’ve made the first step on the long path to a successful 2019.

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