Naught to sixty. Or ten.

In a plan to tackle my 2016 goals, I'm going to take you on a journey. A 10k journey.

I am writing this as a promise to myself. And that promise means several things:

1. When I am old I would like to recall tales of battling the elements to my grandchildren, tell them how I would run through anything just to get some weekly exercise.
2. As part of my new life, fitness is key. It's a key part of my job and will become a key part of my personal development. Fitter people get ahead. And probably boyfriends too.
3. It's a physical thang. My jeans don't fit, I refuse to buy clothes a size up, and last time I checked I was considerably heavier than at my peak of fitness last year.

So, ultimately, I need to put down the beer and burgers and pick up some weights. Or, better than that, strap on some Nikes and Just Do It.

Today, I join a gym.

Today, I lose junk food.

Today, I stop making excuses and start making progress. 

(Wish me luck.)

Six goals for 2016

As an interesting experiment, I’ve set six goals for 2016 and will review them again at the end of the year. Or at the end of every month. It really depends on how much content I have.

I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions. They’re proven to fail, you can set them at any other time of the year, and I often end up picking something rubbish like “go to the gym”, where the only pounds I lose are straight out of my purse.

This year, as I’m starting with a completely clean slate – no job, no boyfriend, no house – I’ve decided to do something a little different. Instead of setting resolutions, I’m setting goals.

With six goals to accomplish in 2016, I can reasonably look to achieve one per every two months. So here they are, my demons, motivators and expectations for the year ahead:

1. Get a job
   
2. Move out of your parent’s house before it’s too late. You’ve only have two more years before it gets really sad.
   
3. Lose 12 lbs (one each month, easy does it)
   
4. Explore places, including:
1. Newquay
2. Isle of Wight
3. Ireland
4. Amsterdam
5. Manchester
6. Parma
7. … Hong Kong?
   
5. Run 10k. You’ve been saying you’re going to do it for two years. Just get on with it. JUST DO IT. And eat some vegetables while you’re at it, you’re nearly 23 for God’s sake.
   
6. Date. Properly. Perhaps once a month. Maybe. Let’s not push it. A little less 2016 a little more touch me.

So that's it. Six goals, twelve months. That's nice and realistic right?

Now for the tricky part... Completing them.

A Roundabout Chapter Between London and Hampshire

Locations are pretty sticky topics for most people. They're often so definite. Shoutout to all of the Victorian literature nerds who get the title reference.

My mum has this video tape of me, when I was perhaps three or four years old, leaping and singing in our back garden. I was in the throngs of a Disney princess stage and Beauty and the Beast was the film that I knew I would resonate with for my entire childhood, and beyond. I'm singing the lyrics to the opening musical number:

"I want adventure in the great, wide, somewhere. I want it more than I can tell."

When you have a security in a place, like family and job, it's hard not to feel bound to your ties. Even if you begin to outgrow them.

I love Hampshire like I love my parents. I owe it everything, it is my history, my beginning, and it'll run through my veins wherever I go. But like all loves, sometimes the timing isn't right, you can outgrow them, and you can yearn for change. 

You know a relationship isn't working when you lust over something else with such a passion, you feel guilty. I'm still very much in a physical relationship with my hometown, but mentally, I'm unfaithful.

Although my body is currently lying in Hampshire, much like Jane Austen's, my heart and soul escape with every spare moment they get. Through British Vogue, Richard Curtis romcoms and friends Instagram photos, my soul gravitates towards somewhere much bigger, much louder, and far more exciting.

A city I once thought held little for me now holds everything. More friends in one place than I've ever had, the promise of opportunity and enjoyment; ultimately, a lifestyle I desire so strongly I've shed tears over it.

Meanwhile, in my more wild, fur coat buying fantasies, my imagination takes me to streets I've walked only once. The streets of Rachel Green, Carrie Bradshaw, Taza. A few years ago I was convinced I'd go. I'd make it happen somehow. I grew out of it. But it's back. Unrealistic and all encompassing. I feel about New York how I feel about my future husband. It's not a reality right now, but it will be. And I love that thought already.