Picture it: you're 6/7/8/who cares (?) and sat in front of the most resplendent birthday cake - cream, jam, icing, the works. As you plunge the knife in and make your wish, what does mum whisper in your ear? "Don't tell anyone or it won't come true". Well, I've got news for you - it's the same with New Year Resolutions. At this transitional moment in the calendar, the temptation to dream up life altering changes of habit is almost too strong to resist. Sat amongst the remains of an over-exuberant Sainsbury's shop, you decide to make yourself feel better by declaring that this will be the year that you....cycle to work....give up booze....get Daniel Craig's body....or, worst of all, enter an Ironman race. Sorry, I'll rephrase that - compete in an Ironman race - just paying the deposit doesn't count.
Now don't get me wrong, I've no grumble with a change of course. If you aren't going to give your situation a stock take at this time of year then when are you? However, there's nothing so bad for the soul as a resolution unresolved. Your plans for the ultimate makeover of body, mind or spirit need to be like the wartime secrets of Bletchley Park - no one should know until you've won.
As my mother in law proved this Christmas, not even your closest family will back you to lose weight this year and stop drinking wine. Unless, of course, you're a clinically obese alcoholic. The key is to keep quiet. This way, you've a judge and jury of one - yourself. The other path leads to the following: your party disperse with your intentions already being filed to the back of their minds, leaving you to your new life of purity and cleanliness. You give it a couple of weeks before you cave in. Obviously, you keep quiet about your failings but, just when you think you avoided the embarrassing moment of judgement, one of your family remembers, shines their high beam on your weakness and then rubs public salt into your wobbly wound.
So, with Mum now officially the word, where to next? Simple, do something NOW. Don't be one of the masses queuing at the gym reception in early January, being grinned at by the trainer as he takes the exorbitant joining fee off your already festively flimsy credit card. Do it now and feel ahead of the pack. Even one run will make your New Year celebrations a break in proceedings rather than the Last Supper. And if you've already been for a trot before the bells ring, you'll be less likely to get totally smashed too.
Finally, be ready for temptation. It might not last the full 40 days and nights but it's still a devious and calculating beast which knows exactly the moment to strike. Be ready. Step away from the tin with only one custard cream. Have your Magners, just not the four packets of pork scratchings. After all, you haven't ceased being human but as your own taskmaster and target setter, you can have the humous without the humiliation.
