New Year, New You! (Bollocks)

It’s the first day of a brand new year and you leap from your bed like a greyhound after a rabbit. Except you’re not in search of a rabbit. Oh no. You’re a vegan now. 2018 is the year of a smoothie-guzzling, Lycra-wearing, spring in step, new you.

Things don’t go to plan at breakfast when you wanted to make yourself seaweed on a bed of leftover pine needles from the Christmas tree but realise you forgot to buy seaweed. Once you’ve dished out 3 serving variations of the same cereal to 3 bleary-eyed, grouchy and mostly thankless children, you opt for the next best thing to seaweed (coffee and a selection box).

You tell yourself that the “New You” will officially be rolled out at lunchtime.

Make that after lunchtime.

The roast turkey dinner you have planned probably isn’t very vegan and Apple Strudel with a small serving (roof-slate-sized slab) of Vienetta for dessert doesn’t exactly scream “lifestyle change!”

And so, New Year’s day passes in a haze of sausage rolls, wine and regrets.

Yoga and goji berry smoothies are positively on the cards for 2nd January though. It’s fine to start from then.

Except you were sporadically kicked in the ribs throughout the night by a bed-invading child and up with the baby at 4am.  Pains au chocolat is the only breakfast that seems fair in the circumstances.

Unfortunately for your Lycra, the next few days pan out in a similar, non-gym-going way.

The sense of failure sets in. You feel angry at yourself for not being toned or looking Californian by now. But the reality is that the days are hard. The nights are hard. Chocolate is a small, guilty pleasure in a world of constantly putting yourself second to everyone else. Many may disagree with the psyche of rewarding one’s self with calories. But as long as we all remember to make time for some vegetables and exercise along the way then each to their own, eh?

Oh and, out of curiosity, what was wrong with the old you?

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2 Comments

  1. 2nd January 2018 / 4:21 pm

    Aye, true that. I managed to start Dry January. One day ticked off, so already up on December. This evening I will be mostly shoving Toblerone into my fat face. Bothered?

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