Rethinking resolutions

Want to walk more in 2025? Pause first.

There’s an undeniable appeal to a fresh page in an unmarked calendar and a chance to wipe the slate clean. A new year, a new start.

The turning of the year is bursting with opportunity, but it is also loaded with expectations. It’s the season of diet plans, gym memberships and alcohol-free challenges. The pressure to change something, anything, right now, can feel unbearable. So often, we respond with half-hearted resolutions made in haste and discard our intentions within a few weeks.

There must be a better way forward.

Rethinking resolutions

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash

Resolutions framed around loss, sacrifice and restriction can be hard to sustain. It’s not necessarily a bad thing to know what you’re walking away from. But it’s much more motivating to know what you’re walking towards. So, what’s the best way to think about goals to walk more?

I recently saw a discussion about New Year’s resolutions on the walking subreddit. Many of the comments I read were about increasing step counts. A few contributors talked about consistency, which is important in building new habits. But as I read, I wondered if people were missing out on what’s best about walking.

There’s a lot more to walking than the steps you take. While it’s great to have a goal to move more, it’s also good to work out why you want to walk. Knowing that you want to connect with friends, explore your neighbourhood, experience moments of wonder, or build your stamina can motivate you to keep going, even on rainy days when the sofa is calling your name.

In my work supporting people to change their behaviour around health, I’ve learned that the most effective intentions are multi-dimensional, simultaneously tapping into a broad range of motivations. People stick to their goals long-term because they help them become the type of person they want to be. Thinking about wellbeing in its broadest sense - physical, emotional, social, spiritual, and ecological - is a good place to start.

Starting where I am

There’s also a strong argument to be made against making New Year’s resolutions at all.

January follows a period of deep hibernation, when we’ve feasted, rested and withdrawn from the world. For myself, the festive season often leaves me bloated from big dinners, extra slices of cake and the ever-present box of chocolates. If you’re anything like me, New Year’s resolutions can come from a place of feeling that I’ve let myself down.

In the past, my resolution-making often started in regret and recrimination. Guilt, blame and anger felt like powerful boosts to get me moving. But if I made resolutions from a place of self-loathing, my willpower faded rapidly.

I also used to find it all too easy to swing between being hard on myself and letting myself off the hook. I’d be overambitious, making unachievable resolutions that I abandoned by mid-January. Or I’d be mired in the feeling that I might as well not bother.

I know now that I travel furthest when I let kindness guide my footsteps. The paradox of change is that it happens when I stop trying to be someone I’m not, and let myself become who I am. What keeps me walking is the realisation that I am already enough.

Waiting for spring

I’m not ready to start with new projects and intentions yet. In the wheel of my year, the season of Yule stretches until the beginning of February, carrying me through the dark month of January to the celebration of Imbolc. The first fire festival of the calendar year is a time of new beginnings, and until then, I remain in the realm of winter dreaming.

I’m not alone in biding my time.

Years ago, I encountered the work of designer DSri Seah. At a time when I was overwhelmed by tasks and failing to organise myself, their downloadable emergent task planner helped me prioritise. But I was most intrigued by their idea for Groundhog Day resolutions.

Photo by Steve Wrzeszczynski on Unsplash

As Seah explains in this 2007 post, rather than setting goals at the beginning of January, they decided to postpone them until February 2nd. Then, each month - on 3/3, 4/4, 5/5 and so on - they would review their progress, making time to revisit their intentions during the year. When they reached December 12th, they would celebrate their achievements and enjoy the midwinter festivities.

There’s a lot I like about their approach. I appreciate the coincidence that Groundhog Day and Imbolc often fall on the same day. I love the simple pattern of the dates, the opportunity for accountability and the invitation to reflect. But most of all, I celebrate the idea that for some of the year, it’s OK to stop striving.

By waiting and letting resolutions emerge with the first buds of spring, the winter period opens up a space of magical possibility. Outside, I tiptoe in the dark through a sleeping world. I sense the potential of seeds and bulbs nestled in deep soil. Nature is resting as much as humanity lets it, and it’s OK to give myself permission to do the same.

Dreams in the darkness

So, with no big life changes until February, the month ahead is all about dreaming.

This early on, I’m not yet sure what my walking might look like in 2025. But here are some of the things I’m mulling over as I survey the year ahead.

• I turn 51 this month, and I’m definitely feeling my age. Tight hamstrings, stiff hips and unstable knees can make it hard for me to get moving. So, I need to think about incorporating some stretching and warm-ups into my routine. I’ve never been a fan of yoga, but maybe this is the year I finally submit to the mat.

• Then there’s the pain of bunions and the ongoing challenge of finding comfy footwear for my extra-wide feet. Walking in unsupportive shoes can leave me with sharp pain between my metatarsals, so perhaps a trip to a podiatrist is on the horizon.

• Beyond tackling some health concerns, I’m excited to go exploring. Last year, I bought Rob Wildwood’s book Magical Britain, which is fueling my imagination. Stone circles, fairy glens, woodland waterfalls and secret pools are quietly calling to me.

• I’ve been a solo adventurer for a long time, but I hope 2025 will bring more walks with friends and family. I want to find out how shared paths can strengthen my relationships, especially as I learn to negotiate my own limitations and other’s, and find common ground in distance and pace.

• I want to deepen my labyrinth practice, too. It’s been exciting this last year to start making labyrinths on the beach, and I wonder about more deliberately opening these spaces to others.

• Perhaps related, and as I mentioned in my reflections about starting Pilgrimagic, it would be exciting to bring this venture into the real world. I’m intrigued to discover what this might look like.

• Oh, and this might be the year I get a dog.

Exciting seeds of change. I have no idea what will grow from them or which fresh shoots will spring up first, but I can wait to find out.

Pause first

Photo by Jonathan Pielmayer on Unsplash

All of this is to say: If you’ve already made and broken your New Year’s resolutions, don’t be hard on yourself. Just for now, it’s OK to pause. Make yourself a big mug of hot chocolate. Start when you’re ready; you’ll know when it’s the right time.

Meanwhile, these winter days offer a precious opportunity to rest. The sun is returning, but slowly. The nights are still long enough for dreaming. Soon, we’ll be caught up in the rush of spring and the heady days of summer, so make the most of this quiet time. Trust that beautiful things are growing in the darkness and will emerge when the warmth of spring coaxes them into the light.

I’d love to know more about what’s buried deep in your dreams for walking in the coming year. What places are whispering to you? Who are your ideal walking companions? What are you looking for? How will you challenge yourself? Who are you becoming?

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