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Happy New Year's (March Edition)

  • Writer: Heidi Cephus
    Heidi Cephus
  • Mar 22, 2022
  • 5 min read

On January 1st, I started writing a blog entry about New Year’s Day and resolutions. I worked on the piece for a while, but eventually between work, my son’s activities, academic writing, and life, I set it aside.


As I returned to my blog earlier this month, I found the piece sitting there, almost finished. So, here it is, a month and a half later with a few updates:


I’ve always loved the ritual of new beginnings. As a child, I enjoyed serving as an acolyte in my church, carrying the lit flame into the sanctuary and lighting the candles that indicated the service had begun. I looked forward to marking the start of summer break with a dip in the public pool. I took seriously the task of picking out a new outfit, backpack, and lunchbox for the first day of school. The start of each new season deserved its own celebration or ritual: organizing my bag at the start of gymnastics season, decorating for each holiday, replacing the winter clothes in my closet with summer ones at the first hint of spring.


It's no surprise, then that New Year’s has always held a special place in my heart. Through high school, I relished in the traditions that my parents created for us. We enjoyed sparkling cider and snacks, played games, and watched the broadcast of the ball dropping in New York City. I set personal, usually unshared, resolutions, which had little structure and ended up fading away a few weeks into the new year.


Over the years, my traditions changed and my commitment to resolutions waxed and waned, but I always came back to this need to reset, to reestablish habits, to reevaluate goals.


A few years ago, I realized that the word “resolution” no longer captured my plan for the new year. “Intention” was closer, but still not quite right. Perhaps my goals are just resolutions in disguise, but I believe a goal gives more room for incremental progress. I like to think of goals in terms of the large paper thermometers that organizations use to track fundraising or sales goals. Each line represents progress and every filled in square represents success. If the goal is to raise $1 million, the organization hasn’t failed if they get $975,000. They may be $25,000 off from their target, but they are $975,000 ahead of where they started.


This black and white photograph depicts several men in military caps. They all face a white board reading "71 Flying Training Wing Our Goal: 38,000" and depicting a thermometer. A man paints a line near the top of the thermometer.
Officers at Vance Air Force Base Record Progress Towards Combined Federal Campaign

I had never run more than 5 miles when I signed up for a half-marathon. I started training in the summer of 2019 for a race in October of that year. I followed a running plan and trusted the process. The race happened, but even if it hadn’t the number of miles that I ran that year would have been more than in any year past. The goal created positive change and crossing the finish line was just a bonus.

For me, goals also have flexibility in terms of how they are completed. I want to run 365 miles this year. That means, 7 miles a week or 1 mile a day. Does that mean I will run a mile every day? Of course not. That’s the reason I’ve resisted the term “resolution.” Resolving to run 1 mile a day quickly becomes impossible. There are several inches of snow on the ground, I catch a cold, I twist my ankle, I choose to attend my son’s baseball game instead. But running 7 miles a week leaves some wiggle room. I can run 2 miles one day and 1 the next. If I only make it to 5 for the week, I’ve still been more active than I would have been without the goal.


***


This year, I woke up to fresh fallen snow to mark the new year. I donned full ski attire and joined my son outside for an attempt at a snowball fight (the snow was too dry). We went for a walk to the park and piled snow on the slides to make them slicker and thus faster. We laughed as we enjoyed our final few days before the semester began. A new beginning, a time to reset, a pause before the business of the new year took over our lives.


I took time that day to reflect on the goals I set the previous year:

  1. Read 25 Books

  2. Run 365 Miles

  3. Move to Colorado

  4. Get a New Job

  5. Publish 1 Article

I ended up blowing some goals out of the water:

  • I read 42 books. I counted longer children’s books that I read with my son (Percy Jackson), but not shorter pieces (Captain Underpants). When I first started setting reading goals a few years ago, my goal was to reignite my passion for reading. After spending 6 years in a PhD program, reading had become a task instead of an escape. I needed to make space for murder mysteries and fantasies alongside critical analyses of Shakespeare.

  • I moved to Colorado. In what seemed like an almost impossible market, we found and purchased a house that checked all the right boxes. We scored a large backyard, a beautiful view of the mountains, and the basement I’ve always wanted, but which was an impossibility in the hard clay soil of North Texas. I have a Colorado driver’s license and Colorado license plates. My son has completed a full semester in a Colorado public school.

  • I started a new job at a high school and navigated the changes that came with the new work environment. I am already making significant contributions and feel luckily to be part of an amazing team.

In my pursuit of other goals, I fell short:

  • I ran 208 miles, not 365. I did, however, run somewhat consistently throughout the year and began to adjust to running at a higher altitude after the move.

  • I didn’t publish an article, but I did set aside time to work on one. I woke up 30 minutes early on workdays so that I could write and edit before heading to the 7AM start of my workday. I overcame my self-doubt and sent an article to a friend to review and in 2022 have already sent that same article to a journal.

As I set my goals for this upcoming year, I knew that it is possible that I wouldn’t achieve every one of them but goals unfinished still represent progress, movement in the right direction.


This year I grouped goals into 3 categories. Current progress is listed in bold after each one.


Write

  • Write 5 hours a week (260 total hours) Current: 34 Hours

  • Post on this blog 2x a month (24 total posts) Current: 2 (Including Today)

  • Submit the academic article mentioned above Yes!

  • Submit 1 creative piece to a literary journal Not yet.

Read

  • Read 50 books Current: 9 Books

Work Out

  • Run 365 miles Current: 47 Miles

  • Train for and run a 10K Not yet.

  • Go to the gym 100x (~2x per week). This gives me a little wiggle room in case the gym is closed, we are traveling, or I get sick or choose another form of exercise. Current: 18 Visits

  • Play 50 rounds of disc golf (~1x per week) Current: 10

I’ve broken each goal down into the weekly, monthly, and yearly parts of my planner. Each week, I keep track of how many hours I’ve written, books I’ve finished, miles I’ve run, and rounds of disc golf I’ve played. I track where I am for the week and how that contributes to where I should be for the year. I use the term “should” here lightly. I know that there are ebbs and flows to the year.


The image depicts a single page of a planner starting with March 7. On the left of the date section, I have written out: write, run, gym, disc golf, finish book. Under each of these, I've drawn boxes to show weekly progress. For instance, there are 2 boxes for "gym" and both are filled in. Underneath, I've written "Yearly." The text that follows records my progress for the year. For instance, "Write 31.35/50."
Weekly Progress Section from Planner

Checking in each week gives me a chance to reflect on where I am doing well and where I can improve. And while I’ll spare my readers an in-depth analysis for now, I’m hoping this post provides another level of accountability.

If nothing else, I hope this blog reminds you that goals can be completed in their own time and that just because you’ve fallen behind the schedule or don’t quite hit the high bar you’ve set for yourself doesn’t mean it’s time to forget why you set the goals in the first place. Progress is progress, and now is as good of a time as any for a new beginning.


I’d love to hear about your goals, so feel free to share your progress in the comments!

 
 
 

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