I went too hard, too fast with my New Year's resolution and... I regret everything.

My alarm went off at 5.15am this morning and I reached out to stretch my arms above my head.

But… I couldn’t. They hurt.

I got out of bed, which is quite difficult when you are trying to shift your body using just your torso, and… GOOD GOD.

My legs. My poor legs.

What have I done?

*Pls note this all played out in dark silence as my annoyingly deep sleeping boyfriend remained in bed, blissfully unaware of how ungracefully I hobbled out of the room*

You see, I didn’t really set myself a proper New Year’s resolution but I did make a goal to maintain the amount of exercise I was already doing prior to Christmas, New Year’s and that weird time in between where nothing makes sense and everyday feels like Sunday.

For about four weeks over the holiday period I was away; exploring places I had wanted to visit since I was a child, catching up with friends and family, eating a shit tonne of real fruit ice cream and just generally doing things more important to me than going to the gym.

I returned to everyday life this week and though this meant less ice cream and more 5.15am starts, I was looking forward to getting back to a regular routine.

That included going to the gym after work.

Which brings me… here. To sitting down, typing this, a little bit scared that I will need to get up soon for a meeting because, remember, MY LEGS.

Yeah, I am a victim to the classic ‘too hard, too fast’ New Year’s resolution fail.

I jumped straight into it, foolishly thinking I could pick up where I left off and now my muscles are tight, sore and definitely about to enjoy an afternoon (or three) on the couch instead of another gym sesh.


This can probably relate to a whole other host of resolutions – maybe you were too excited about your new saving goal and are now living on two minute noodles for the rest of the month, or ate nothing but green smoothies for the first half of January and now feel… ill (and in need of a block of chocolate).


It’s like… we did our resolutions so well, that we can’t do them anymore. Cool.

My very, very sore body has reminded me that when it comes to goals and milestones – it’s a marathon, not a sprint.

Statistics reckon 80% of people fail or give up on their resolutions by the second week of February and uh… oops.

I’ve realised the key is to start small: Ease your way into a workout routine, cut back to just one coffee a day instead of two, try cook one new dish a week… Whatever it is. Small goals equal small successes, and I’m really bad at maths but I’m pretty sure if you add together all your small successes they’ll make a big success. Yay!

In the past I probably would’ve been annoyed and disheartened by my inability to keep exercise up (or you know… walk) right now. This would snowball into weeks and weeks without motivation and I’d eventually give up altogether.

But #newyearnewme, because my new New Year’s resolution (it’s not too late, right?) is to keep going. I will get straight back into it as soon as my muscles uh… heal and I’m no longer waddling around like a penguin.

Maybe I’ll start with a low-impact yoga class.