But despite my apparently underwhelming
goals for the year just gone, 2012 ended up being a pretty damned good year. There
were the unforgettable Olympics. I rekindled some long-abandoned hobbies and,
er, kindled some brand new friendships. Oh, and having been asked atop an escalator in a South London tube station, I left my little Home Counties house
and my large Home Counties cat to move back to London to live with The Writer.
Which was unexpected and has been rather nice.
So for 2013, I’m rather inclined to do much
as I did in 2012: to carry on as I have done, but with a few un-groundbreaking
and eminently achievable goals along the way…
Attempting
a dry January. I tried last year and failed
miserably but, once again, Pa Blonde’s Christmas hospitality has rather put me in
need of a detox. And so, an attempt at a booze-free January is once again on
the cards (but with, I feel I should declare it here and now, one day off for
what are on the cards to the be the Nuptials of the Year. But that’s it. Just one
day. Or so the theory goes). Which fits well, I suppose, with the intention to…
Go
to the gym a bit more. I have more energy, I sleep
better and I feel better when I exercise regularly. No, it’s not an awful lot
of fun, and I don’t think I’ll ever get past feeling intimidated by all the
enormous men grunting enormously as I pootle around on the cross-trainer, but
it does give me a chance to catch up on a bit of downloaded telly I wouldn’t
otherwise watch (thank you iPlayer. Although there is something especially
masochistic about watching Masterchef
whilst running), and hopefully it’ll pay dividends given that I plan to…
Get
serious about the riding. Between Best Mate,
Domestic Slut and The Equestrienne, I had little to no chance of not literally
getting back into the saddle last year. Having had a couple of lessons to get
back into the swing of things, I appear to have given in to overwhelming temptation that is not being in the school working on my technique, and
instead taking advantage of the Home Counties countryside at my parents’ house
to indulge in long, fast, and muddy hacks where I’m going at such speed that no
one can see what I look like in the saddle anyway. But that’s going to change.
Back into the school for some serious flatwork, and then some hard work put in
over the jumps with a possible view to getting involved with a local hunt next
season. Once I’ve, er, got that next hack out of the way.
Write
a bit more. Here. For the lovely types over at the
Middle Class Handbook. On the back of envelopes. A few words on paper of the
ill-fated novel I’ve been thinking and not doing anything about for years.
Just… y’know more.
In short, I’m after more of the same, because 2012 was pretty bloody marvellous, to be honest. I have very little to complain about. Here’s to 2013 taking the reins and running with it...
4 comments:
If I ever make it back to London - I will be looking up the equine options as well. That sounds blissful!
Happy New Year!
Mud: I really can't recommend it enough. Happy New Year to you too! x
This all sounds good. Soul food ... by which I don't mean fried chicken, cornbread and sweet potato pie, but that which nourishes the soul.
2012 was a funny old year for me. But in the main it was a very healing year. Having spent 10 months as a stay-at-home-dad I reconnected with my family, and with parts of me, that took me by surprise.
I only made one resolution this time last year, and that was to focus on the things that really matter. I think it worked. So, like you, I hope I can keep that up, with a few additions here and there.
Happy New Year.
Yes to write more, and ponies. And good luck with the booze free January. Rather you than me.
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