I think New Year's resolutions are pointless, and they just set you up for failure. So I resisted making any firm ones. Instead I made a few resolution-like decisions - call them New Year's Suggestions. For example, I decided that if I were making resolutions, I'd resolve to eat more salads. I bought a bag of mixed greens on New Year's Day, and ate salads for four days in a row. I could have had one last night, too, but I had fresh butternut squash instead. I know I could have had salad, too, but I just didn't feel like it. And it wasn't actually a resolution, anyway, and even if it was, it wasn't "Eat salad every day" - it was "Eat more salads", which I've been doing.
If I'd made resolutions, I also might have resolved to get fit for hiking again, something I've wanted to do since I recovered from my left knee replacement surgery. I can walk up hills as long as they're paved. I did a short hike nearby last summer, and it was still difficult to use my left leg to lift myself up steeper parts of the hillside. I'm not sure how to proceed, which is why I didn't make a firm resolution. In my imagination, I'd have some kind of hiking coach. I'm considering emailing the Appalachian Mountain Club: "Hi, I'm pushing 60, fat and have a fake left knee, and I want to start hiking again." After they stopped laughing, they'd probably let me down gently. Or maybe they have a program for aging overweight hikers with knee issues. Right.
Last week we watched a series of "Everest: Beyond the Limit" episodes. One of the climbers had had a knee transplant (not a replacement), and I was hoping he'd do well. He didn't. The climber they described as "larger" didn't make it to the summit, either. I doubt I could ever climb Everest - and maybe I only want to because they burn off 15,000 calories a day just trying to stay alive, and I can just imagine all my fat disappearing. But maybe I could make it a goal to climb Mount Washington (which I climbed during my twenties) again. I should be able to do that on a fake knee, don't you think?
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
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