I don’t want to f*cking do that, but I said I would so I will.
I’m 10 days into my resolutions.
Except I hate that I called them resolutions. My second cousin told me she calls them “adjustments.” I like that. I’m stealing it. An adjustment is a tweak to something you want to change. A “resolution” suggests an overhaul. I’m not into overhauling. Actually, that’s not true. I’m completely into overhauling if it means I can collect shit from my house and donate it. Bonus points if I’m tossing someone else’s stuff. That feels goooooooooooooood.
Anyway, I’m 10 days into my adjustments. According to a commercial I perpetually ignore during Celtics games, few people have been successful in sticking to their adjustments by this time each January.
As a reminder, said adjustments are as follows:
Take stupid creatine like the internet wants me to do.
Eat one salad every day.
Eat protein with every meal.
Run one mile every day.
Strength train twice each week.
Try to walk 10,000 steps per day.
Spend time outside every day.
Stop working through my lunch hour.
No alcohol.
Make time for writing.
I am here to smugly report that I am still mostly on track, except for my birthday, when I did not spend time outside or eat protein at lunch time. Instead, I watched a movie in the theater and ate popcorn and Milk Duds while the rest of my family watched Sonic 3. And yesterday. I didn’t feel like going outside. I was tired. So tired. I’m finding that spending time outside is very closely related with walking anywhere near 10,000 steps.
Anyway, the tired part is what brings me here today. I’m premenstrual. According to my period tracker, I have four days to go. The only symptom that indicates my dear old friend is just around the corner is the fatigue. Everything else has been eradicated by hormone replacement therapy.
But I digress. I skipped my outside time. I wanted to skip my mile. You know why I didn’t? I have a pink sticky note on the wall with check marks for every day I use the treadmill. And there is literally nothing I like more than checking something off of a list. I had to do a little pep talk. I said, “I don’t want to fucking to do this but I said I would so I will.” And then I ran my dumb mile. PMS will not stand in the way of 31 out of 31 check marks.
As I think about these adjustments, and I think about the soft life, I am realizing that none of these adjustments have been that difficult to do. I was a little tentative in committing, at first, that I would be sacrificing my general contentedness by trying to…well, just trying. At something. Or anything. Part of the soft life has involved very little effort. (The one time I truly tried at something in 2024 was when I prepared to bake a new type of Christmas cookie. The recipe called for molasses, but when I checked the expiration date on my bottle of Crosby’s, it read “2014.”) But as it turns out, I do kind of like trying. Maybe it’s just a 2025 thing, but it feels satisfying to accomplish things.
My biggest accomplishment took place in the last two days.
Pooping normally.
Before you get carried away and judge me for publicly discussing my bowel movements (or lack thereof, to be honest), I’d like to remind you that Everyone Poops, okay?
Have you ever taken creatine? It’s been awhile since I have taken it regularly. Like 10 years, maybe? I have avoided it, like the plague, for a full decade, following a troublesome family vacation to Mexico with my bestie and her family. Literally everyone but me was visited by Montezuma’s Revenge. LITERALLY EVERYONE. Who goes to Mexico and isn’t lucky enough to get diarrhea? Me. That’s who. And never have I ever been so jealous in my life.
What was the cause of this anti-hero? Fucking creatine.
The internet tells me that creatine works to pull water into muscle by osmosis. It’s important to increase your water intake while taking creatine, so the other bits and pieces that need water can have it. But when you spend day after day drinking margaritas on the beach, and don’t take time to hydrate, there is no irrigation for the lawn, if you know what I mean.
“Constipated Kim,” as my loved ones so hilariously called me, was not so fun to be around. “Constipated Kim” stopped taking creatine during that trip and never looked back... Until TikTok told me I needed it. Fortunately, I was able to draw from past experiences and drink lots of water and herbal tea. And thankfully, it’s dry January. We approached drought conditions, but only for a moment.
I know you are relieved to hear that things are under control. Nothing but green grass over here. No “Constipated Kim” in sight. 11 days down. 20 days to go. ❤
