On the first (ish) of January I committed to myself to stick by 10 resolutions for 30 days (see bottom of blog if you’re very interested). It’s day 9.
My problem today was remembering that bloody list existed. I always allow myself a wee break one day a week, no matter what kind of fitness regime or exercise fest I’m on; and it’s always Saturday. So this morning, I woke up (after a seriously kiddie-curtailed sleep), and wandered to the kitchen completely forgetting that I was supposed to do some sun salutations and my meditation. I only remembered sometime approaching midday. Did I dash back to my room and yoga myself away immediately? No. At that point, I was filling in for the UN peacekeepers in my living room by referee-ing a skirmish I had never even seen. I’m not too sure who took whose teddy first so just opted for one of my very lazy, yet loving, parenting techniques. I either punish everyone or no one.
However, later in the afternoon, we did engage in a very long family game of twister which completely stretched (f*cked) every part of my lower back and upper thighs so I decided that that counted as yoga.
I also ran 5km with a buddy (socially distanced run). The socially distanced conversation forced us to consume more breath and energy. So, without even the hint of a discussion, we fell into a ridiculously slow pace so that we could cover lots of gossip and news without destroying our lungs.
The literary diet isn’t going so well – namely because a couple of the links have not been possible for me to follow (no way I am subscribing to New Yorker magazine just to read one article). I think tonight I’m supposed to watch Under the Milkwood. However, my problem is that last night I started the 1995 classic BBC version of Pride & Prejudice. This series had such an impact on women in my generation when it first screened on tv [for those who don’t know it, one of the most significant moments involves a young Colin Firth diving into a lake – not sure Jane Austen knows that either], that I feel I would be letting down all women my age by not concluding it tonight. And in theory Jane Austen qualifies as good English literature. So I think it counts…
On the cooking front, I drummed up another saucy Mary Berry called “Smoky sausage cassoulet” this evening which my husband has rated as the best yet. Before I took up the knives, I would rather have used them on my wrists than expand energy on another fecking dinner. However, within minutes, I was loving it – maybe because I noticed that it wasn’t too complicated and didn’t need much preparation. I was hoping to include a photo of it here, but my phone is refusing to co-operate and I can’t seem to send the email to my laptop. So you’ll just have to imagine a mediocre pot of food with some sausages arranged on the top of it.
Scanning my list, I think I’ve nailed everything except for the meditation. Ideally, I should just do it now but it’s 8.50pm at night and I am a very human human. I will therefore do double tomorrow to make it up.
Ten things I commit to do daily for 30 days:
- No booze (except that used in cooking)
- Meditate for ten minutes
- Follow the literary diet https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/dec/27/feed-your-soul-the-31-day-literary-diet-for-january-2021-culture-books
- Go for a run or a walk
- Cook something new – either a new recipe from my new Mary Berry cook book or else just something I’ve never cooked before
- No crisps
- Clean the kitchen every evening (sometimes I get lazy and leave stuff til the next day…)
- Do at least 5 sun salutations every morning
- Go through my phone every evening to make sure I have replied to all the whatsapps and texts I got that day
- No eating after 7pm (except Fridays and Saturdays – when else could I get my chocolate fix in except when kids are in bed?)