Good Luck and Godspeed
Gentlemen and Gentlewomen of the Vox Chaotica Council! I don't really do New Year's Resolutions. They work for some people, sure, but I'm not a huge fan—and I'd be remiss if I didn't clearly state that part of the problem was the forced resolutions in my elementary school (each year we had to write out what our resolutions were), and mine was always Better Penmanship because I couldn't think of anything better. And if you could see my handwriting, you'd be able to tell how well that resolution ever worked out.
Also, I'm the kind of person that doesn't do something just for the sake of doing it. I have to be passionate about an activity to do it, or even keep interested. So the idea of just making a resolution to do anything just because it's *adopts that awfully nasal, piercing, stereotypical sorority-girl voice* "OhmyGOD A new Year A new MEEEE!!! YAAAAAAS!" has no appeal to me. [Editor's Note: that honestly hurt my soul to type out. I am sorry, I apologise, and freaking WOULD SOMEONE CASH IN ONE OF THESE SO THE JOKE CAN END.] Better to just take a short time of thoughtful introspection and figure out what I actually want to do every week or two, and just start taking steps towards fixing the problems I find.
Like running. I was feeling a little fat when the summer was starting (March this year. ~Thanks, Arizona~), and let me tell you, Gymtimidation is a real thing for poor old Cutter, and I don't really fit the same lifestyle as your typical gym-goer. Nutrition is on the same level of mystically incomprehensible as most medicinal science is for me, and the point of my workouts is to stay active rather than get swole; I just want to feel good about how I look and be able to maybe do a couple pull-ups to impress the ~ladies~ (because so often what an eligible bachelorette wants is a man who can do a small number of pull-ups on command). So I took a prepaid Visa card thingie I got for Christmas and used it to buy myself a pair of running shoes.
Then I went for a very short run like a week later—literally I was outside for fifteen minutes because I was dumb and just started actually running (faster than jogging and just slower than sprinting), having not done any real physical activity in almost a full year. Fun story: evidently, aside from filling out like the Pillsbury dough boy, when your body is inactive for a while, mucus builds up in your lungs and throat. This makes breathing difficult, something hard already because running naturally makes you short of breath—and then on top of that, there's the involuntary reaction of coughing up all that phlegm because your body is so confused why you'd subject it to such torture.
But, after nearly coughing up my lung, I got back out there. I did a solid five months of running at least three times a week—until I sprained my ankle. And alas, I am also sometimes a human, so I may or may not have gotten back into this glorious exercise routine because I may or may not have just had too much mac-n-cheese during the holidays and just laid down until the feeling passed whenever I thought about running again. Maybe.
There was probably a point to me telling you all this, but I can't remember it (the majority of this post was written like two weeks ago, and I never do outlines or notes for myself), so... I guess that's all for now.
So out there and make change, yeah? The world is ripe for it, friends.
tl;dr - Basically Cutter just rambles a lot about running and how he doesn't like New Year's Resolutions. Honestly, you can probably just skip this one and read something better.