The title refers to the words and theme of the day.
The Super Bowl (and Seattle's First World Championship Opportunity of My Lifetime) is nigh. By the time this momentous occurs, there is a high probability that any promises you made to yourself at year's end are now broken. Allow me to elucidate my perspective(this story is true):
It was the last half of the last month when Matt embarked on a quest to locate a gym. Matt, always in search of self-improvement opportunities, decided he wanted to exorcise his flab with exercise. His prospectivepersonal trainer told him, "You'd better sign up now because all the other Seattlites with cellulite are filling up the roster." Matt nodded thoughtfully. It had not occurred to him that come New Years, truckloads of Sedentary Americans would flock to the gyms with the resolve to look the way Americans are supposed to look, like they belong in a J Crew catalogue. "But not to worry," the personal trainer assured him. "Come Super Bowl Weekend there'll be a percipitous drop off in participation." In keeping with the spirit of the most commercialized television event of the year, most Resolutionists forgo their newfound ways and embrace relapse, consuming heavily salted snack treats and massive quantities of beer. The guilt of this idle binging while watching some of the most well-conditioned atheletes in the world is enough to keep people from returning to their workouts.
I forgot where I was going with this story. But my point is, self-improvement is an on-going project. Three or so weeks ago I in my head had laid out plans to close the chasm between who I am and who I wish I was. How easy it is to be an optimist when you're shouting "Woohoo!", champagne flute in one hand, noisemaker in the other. I even re-enforced the plan telling others what I intended to do, so when I failed the shame would not be solely internal. In fact, as I write this, it's the first time I've acted on my resolutions, and I wonder, have I yet broken them if I haven't even done jack shit carry them out?
