As a fitness blogger I feel the obligatory pull to weigh in on New Year’s resolutions. I love them but turns out a lot of you hate them with a fiery passion reserved for calculus and post office lines. Um cool. I thought this was more neutral territory but ok, maybe not.
I’ve seen a lot of “New Year, Same Me” posts on social which if I’m going to be honest, is a little sad. Who wants to be samesame as last year?Lamesies! But also, so many New Year’s resolutions are so negative. SO! In the interest of finding some common ground, let’s try a more mature approach to change. [relax, haters, I didn’t call you immature, just your ability to make change.]
Instead of: I want to lose 10lbs
Try: I’m going to find a way to move a little (more) every day.
See? a kinder way to approach health. Same goes for eating habits. Maybe you eat too much sugar like it’s your job?
Instead of: I’m going to cut out all sugar
Try: I’m going to add fiber at every meal.
By doing that, you’ll probably make more healthful food choices which will inevitably lead to cutting back on sugar intake. You know what has more fiber than Skittles? Oh, I dunno. Everything else.
Since I’m an oversharer and you want to know that Celebrities Are Just Like Us, here are my more mature resolutions:
- Stretch a little every day to protect my (finally) injury-free old joints that I worked so hard to achieve.
- Reach for a book at bedtime before engaging in the infinite social media scroll that leads to burning literally hours a day on instagram and Twitter.
- Acknowledge that even an American Heavyweight makes mistakes (I know, I know, seems impossible!) and that modeling compassion towards your own eff-ups makes for a better life. I mean, I’m not going to stop feeling bad about stuff but maybe it’s ok to let a little bit of stuff go. example: I’m no longer going to feel bad about stuff that happened in the 80s. I think it’s time, yeah?
Now you try and tell me how it goes.
Oh and just because old habits die hard:
4.Tackle my Monica closet for once and for all because I don’t want my gravestone to read
Angie Kennedy, beloved blogger, died being crushed by a pile of cds, yearbooks and photo albums that fell upon her from the upstairs closet