Setting Yourself Goals In 2019

It’s a new dawn, it’s a new year, and I am feeling, well, I am pooped if I am honest.

Its traditional at this time to set yourself a whole heap of imaginary goals to achieve.

You know the ones that are usually in the bin, by the time you get through the first week of ‘So, did you have a nice Christmas, then?’ by everyone and their next door neighbour’s cat.

You know I’ve been giving up smoking, destined to lose weight, doing something with that 40-something quid I paid the local gym for a monthly membership for years.

Do you know how many times, I have actually been to the gym in the last three years? Exactly twice. Twice in three years. So why don’t I go, or more importantly why don’t I cancel my membership you ask?

Well, for one I don’t like gyms, never really have, unless you count the spit and sawdust one I used to frequent way back when I had teenage dreams of becoming a half-decent boxer.


Now I am more like the slightly sluggish ghost of Rocky 8, than anything resembling any kind of contender. And two, I can’t do that, that would be quitting, and winners don’t quit!!. 

Yes, of course, we all want to be slimmer, fitter, younger looking/firmer, ache less, smile-whiter and be more pert-bummed.  But you know what? I kind of like my current look. Entering my 45th year on this lonely planet, I am more content about who I am, even the greying of my beard, suits me, or so I am told.

And that by people, who I can’t even pay to be nice to me, like my six-year-old.

A couple of weeks ago, I was a guest along with twenty other local business-types, of local secondary school. We spent an incredible day with a massive army of 11-12 year olds doing all kinds of ‘The Apprentice’ type activities for the day.

As I wandered around the school, chatting with the bright young minds of tomorrow, I reflected on how I was at their age. Would I have been confident enough to stand on stage in front of a couple of hundred people and pitch a business idea I’d just had? Not blooming-likely.

I would have been bunking off round the back off the bike sheds, cursing everyone else taking part as ‘a square’. – Essentially I would have missed out because I was so scared about what my ‘mates’ would have said. Daft, eh?

During one of the pitches, a young lady was taken by stage fright and started to choke-up and cry. What did the crowd do? They started a spontaneous round of applause, and encouraging shouts of support echoed around the hall until she regained her composure and was able to continue.

A pal of mine who was also there under the guise of knowing a thing or two about business sidled up to me and whispered 

“Bloody hell, times have changed if someone in my school and choked, we would have ripped the bejesus out of them. They wouldn’t have lived it down for their entire school career”.

He was right; it would have been the same for me. Anyway, why am I telling you this, you may wonder? – Well, it goes back to my resolutions, rather than spending a fortune trying all manner of positions and sweaty classes trying not to look like mutton dressed as lamb, I am going to think younger.

Not in a seedy, oldest swinger in town, kind of way – but I am going to be more compassionate and less cynical by way of making a change. Just like those pupils showed me, and considering I was there to ‘teach’ them it was me that came away with having learned a valuable lesson.

Also, this year it will be different. My other New Year’s resolutions will be achievable. I am going down from three cups of tea a day rather than my usual 35 by getting someone to hide the petty cash in the office and ration the teabags like the Brexit Zombie-led genocide I dream about is a reality.

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Editor | Journalist | Part-Time Revolutionary.

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