My New Year's Resolution....

I hate New Year's resolutions. It's always seemed like the most useless exercise in futility I've ever encountered. We all *know* we aren't going to actually keep those resolutions. Most of the time, they're ill-considered, poorly-conceived notions blurted out when some well-meaning, but ultimately "caught in the hype" friend asks, "So, what are your New Years resolutions?" And, like kids on a playground, we don't want to seem to be caught without an answer, so we stammer out something about spending more time with the family, getting a raise, doing homework.... oh, and of course, losing weight.

That's probably why I hate New Year's resolutions. Every year since I can remember, I resolved that *this year* I'd get to my ideal weight. And every year, I failed. Like millions of other women (well, people) out there, I struggle with my weight. But every New Year marked a new, optimistic, beginning. And I do well... until February, or March, or April. And each December, as the New Year loomed ever closer, I'd be faced with the inevitable reality of my failure. That's why, a few years ago, I just stopped making resolutions. I did finally start to conquer my weight demons - I started one August. But I swore that I would never again answer that inane question "What are your New Year's resolutions?"

Maybe old habits die a little too hard, because as the clock struck midnight this year, marking a new decade, I found myself mentally reviewing my life and looking for that infamous "to-do" list. What did I want to accomplish in the next year?

I've already come a long way, personally. In the past 16 months or so, I've lost nearly 8 dress sizes, I've gotten my life back in order enough to apply to and be accepted to law school, I'm starting to get my finances in order, I've gotten my eyes fixed and can actually see... so what now? Maybe I should just be happy and be done with it.

No, I know that's not quite right. Because as far as I've come, when I look in the mirror each morning, I know I'm not really a "healthy" person, per se. I'm not sick, really. We've set up this world where we live in a dichotomy, and if you're not sick, you must be healthy. But that's not really true, is it? Because I'm not "sick," but yet I'm hardly a poster girl for good health. I don't see a doctor unless I'm practically dying, I haven't seen a dentist since I was a child, I take painkillers far more often than is necessary, I am still overweight, and I struggle with a host of chronic problems.

So, I've set my number one New Year's resolution: to be more proactive with regards to my health. By the time this year ends, I want to be able to look in the mirror and know that the person looking back at me really is healthy - or, at least, that she has a fighting chance at it. And, since I live to write, I'm taking you all on the journey with me. Let's see how it goes.