January is when the rubber meets the road. The month when New Year’s resolutions are tested, toughened.
For many determined baby boomers like me, it’s that fragile period of time where strength of will can fall by the wayside. Often our good intentions are sabotaged by someone else — a person close, a person we love.
“What do you think,” my husband shouted from the couch while I took down the Christmas decorations, “about taking a walk?”
I peered at him quizzically between the branches of the tree, an ornament in one hand and a cookie in the other. Had he forgotten my New Year’s resolution already — the only one I was sure to keep?
Why, I distinctly remembered telling him — and the Light Notes readers — about my pledge to gain five pounds by the end of the year or consider it going soft on a promise.
2012 is my year for true grit.
But there was Bill reaching out to me with an offer of companionship rather than a plate of fudge. From where I stood merrily munching, it looked as if love would prove to be a stumbling block.
So off we went; Bill in his street clothes and me in my hot pink running gear. If I was going to fall off the wagon, it might as well be in a big way.
On an adjacent private road we meandered. Friendly dogs and neighbors begged for us to slow our pace. But when we headed out onto the highway, a paved stretch beckoned. The temptation for me was too much.
“I’ll just run a little ways ahead of you,” I announced to Bill as my tennis shoes picked up speed, my mind racing with excuses for not keeping my resolution.
In the distance, a car appeared from around the curve. The delicious feeling of running in the road had me craving a few more steps before yielding to the vehicle.
“You’d better move over!” Bill called from behind me as I reluctantly jogged to the shoulder without giving up my pace.
Suddenly, one running shoe connected with an enormous piece of gravel. My ankle rolled — OUCH! — as a muddy ditch loomed up at me. Arms and legs flailing, I regained my balance but lost my dignity as the SUV sped by.
So here I am on the sofa with a fat ankle while I strive to keep my New Year’s resolution. And if you can scoot that plate of fudge a little closer, I’d appreciate it.