Other, Running

January intentions

Okay, publicly I’m very anti New Year Resolutions because of course Jan 01 is just another day. But secretly, every year I give myself a list which takes about two ponderous weeks to write before that day and about two weeks to be scrapped after it.

I don’t think I’m alone there.

Have I attempted to create a list again this year? Of course, and because of that there tumultuous 2020, I suspect the symbolic line will be drawn and a few more lists will be made than normally the case. Will my resolutions last longer than 1/24th of the year because I’m declaring my intentions? I’m saying nothing until after the 14th. We shall see.

My list:

  • New 30 Day Yoga with Adriene – followed by more yoga (5 times a week – or at the very least 3)
  • Run 100 miles in Jan – followed by more running ( try not to drop below 70 miles each month)
  • Learn how to use WordPress with more proficiency than writing the title and then typing
  • Write a short story each month
  • Grow vegetables in our new greenhouse
  • Don’t waste my Black Friday Babbel purchase to learn Italian.

It’s hefty but not impossible and given that I don’t work full time, the only reason I’d fail is laziness.

Laziness and procrastination. These qualities of my character have consistently been the two main reasons why I have never failed at anything other than fulfilling my January list. They’ve kept me from really diving deep and working hard to explore the limits of my capabilities. And those ‘shelf help’ books keep telling me that it’s because I’m afraid to fail. In reality it is more often than not, a case of the CBAs (which means ‘can’t be arsed’ for anyone who has never been afflicted).

I know there may be some people who have genuine psychological barriers but that isn’t me although I haven’t been analysed recently. What IS me is a phobia against hard work and when the going gets tough, I’m usually the one slipping out the back door. Theoretically, I could be the most spiritually advanced person in Buddhist or Hindu terms because I’m great at detachment and life’s just all a great big inconsequential thing from a universe point of view and if I binge watch Netflix and Amazon all the time it matters not a jot.

But still I persist in this making of a list.

There must be something then, tapping quietly (sometimes a little too quietly) at my shoulder. Asking me gently what my passion might be. That list above is pure fancy, it’s just about me. It won’t impact on anybody else – apart from the vegetables maybe – but it may just, if I don’t quit, lead me to a little exploration of who I may be.

I have started quite well in the two days that have elapsed. I only have 93 miles to go and I’ve started the Yoga series. I feel as stiff as a board. Yesterday, despite the NYE fizz still sploshing around in my head, I managed 3.5 miles and found the following empty bottle in my street which kind of sums it up.

Other

Blog the first

So this is it, my very first blog, being written in a b&b in Watton. And judging by the length of time between setting up the name and actually putting in an offering, blog nĂºmero deux may be a while in the coming.

The leadless pencil is apt then. It was my favourite name; after all my first, second and subsequent choices had been taken by other WordPress bloggers.
I set it up a few weeks ago when a friend said that she was starting one and I’d had fun writing verbose descriptions on fb when I’d been in Barca, so I thought it would be good for me. She, however, is very involved in local stuff; music, arts, etc. So hers can wrap itself round a purpose. Mine on the other hand. Hmmm.

A travel blog? My Spanish trip last month was the first holiday in two years so I don’t get out much. Although I am currently writing this inaugural bobbins in Norfolk. That’s definitely somewhere else to where I normally am. You can see the stars here for one thing. Properly. It is like the proverbial blanket and they are incredibly bright. I was impressed last night. I’m not impressed with some crap band that appear to be gigging or practising next door to me, with some shouty ugh ughing guy, who could be a groupie or could be the lead singer. I could never do a review blog, I’d be lynched.

A coding blog? You’re yawning already. Although I did encapsulate some tricky data into one nested select with some lovely analytical functions the other day. Yup, you’re still yawning.

A gay blog? Considering nuns probably have more traffic than me, it’s not going to have a lot to say.

For what then, am I bothering with all this? Well, I think it seemed like a good way to just practise using the writing muscle, regularly ish. Ideally I’d like to write stories and stuff but I’m inherently lazy and I lack a bit of confidence and I don’t actually have any ideas in the first place. So I’m thinking, maybe it’s just that I haven’t actually used that part of my brain much, what with being a plinky plonk code monkey for so many years. Maybe, writing about any old shit, is still writing and therefore realigning some crucial synaptic receptors to get me to a purpose or idea or inclination. Plus writing where other people can see if they can be arsed is a tad more scary than keeping it to myself. Feel the fear etc.
So, this could be the first of many…or it could be the last of one. Who knows.