I didn't know what I was going to write about when I got up this morning. I have a bunch of drafts started, topics queued up. But over the past few days, as I've gone public with this blog, I have had several conversations, emails, and chats with people about fitness and weight loss. And the one thing that keeps coming up, the thread that runs through just about every story, is shame. Fat is not something we want to talk about, unless it's how to fight it.

I also had a few friends ask me if I was absolutely sure that I wanted to do this. Of course I wasn't. I'm sharing a lot of personal information in the most public way possible. The humiliation potential is high. But I've been obese for all of my adult life, overweight since puberty hit. Even now, I still have a lot of fat, it's just a lot less than I used to have. There's really no hiding it. By not admitting it, not talking about it, not accepting it, I was just holding on to the shame and guilt that comes with being fat. Selfishly, I'm hoping that by writing about it I can shed some of the shame and stigma, not just pounds and inches.

Perhaps not surprisingly, all of the conversations were with women. It's not that the guys I know don't struggle with weight or body image issues. They just haven't talked to ME about it in the past few weeks. Still, the overwhelming response of "I thought I was the only one!" and "I can relate to your story!" and "You read my mind!" and "OMG, you get me, you really get me!" has been from women. Strong women. Smart women. Healthy women. Fit women.

I couldn't put my finger on what bothered me so much about it all, until this morning when I had a message chat with an old friend. She's had big health issues over the last few years, cancer scares, surgeries, hormone fluctuations, and associated weight gain. She's now healthy and stable enough that she's working on getting back in to shape. A shape she's always been in, so carrying extra weight is foreign and new to her, and it's taking a mental toll. She wrote: "Have been quiet and ashamed of it for far too long. Your posts have inspired me to do this, to talk about the struggles but also to stay positive."

It makes me angry.

I'm angry that being overweight carries such stigma.
I'm angry that talking about weight is taboo enough that writing about the experience of being fat and getting fit is scary.
I'm angry that the message all too often is about weight and not health.

You don't owe it to anyone to be pleasing to look at.
You don't owe it anyone to be a certain size.
You don't even owe it to anyone to be fit.
Strangers do not get to dictate your social obligation to be healthy.

You only owe it to yourself.

So, let's start talking. Take back our stories, and use our words.
Stop holding your tongue.
I'm tired of being quiet about it.

My social media feeds are full of status updates and graphics telling me that 2014 is going to be that person's year, and that this person is putting 2014 on notice. That they can't wait to say goodbye to 2013 and make 2014 their year. Believe me, I've been there. There are some years that you really, truly, can't wait to say goodbye to.

A lot of new year's hyperbole centres around the idea of a fresh start. That, somehow, the slate is wiped clean when the clock changes. You know what? The slate is never clean. Your past still exists. You can't turn back the clock. There is no backspace button for life. January 1st is just another day.

Which is why I have always been uncomfortable with New Year's resolutions.
Most years, I never made them. People would assume that weight loss would be my goal, or they'd tell me it should be. Some years I would half-heartedly announce some grandiose plans. But they never stuck.

In fact, when I decided to start swimming, it was between Christmas and New Year's of 2011. I had lost a bit of weight since the summer, just enough that I knew clothes fit differently and people asked, hesitantly, "have you lost some weight?" My body was telling me it wanted to move. I felt, for the first time, like exercising. And I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if I waited until January 1st that it simply wouldn't happen. The pools were closed Christmas Day and Boxing Day. I swam lengths on December 27th. I think I barely made it for 15 minutes. The next day, I was in the pool again. And the day after that. By the time January 1st of 2012 rolled around, I had already swum enough days in a row to feel like a swimmer. The habit wasn't fully formed yet, but I was confident that I would keep it up.

And, I did.

But that`s a story for another day.

Today, on the first day of 2014, two full years later, what I am thinking about is how starting swimming on December 27th was the best thing I ever did. Not waiting *until* a certain time. When I was ready, I started.

Over the last few years, I have had many moments of wanting to give up. Questioning whether the effort was all worth it. The only way I kept going when it was overwhelming was that I took it one day at a time. And when I slipped up, I started over again. Every day provided the same fresh start as January 1st. Every day, I resolved to keep trying.

Folks, a year is a long time. A lot can happen. A lot of things you can't possibly plan for can happen. Which is ultimately why so many resolutions made at a time like this fail. They're vague. They're often negative, all about erasing our flaws in one fell swoop. Out with the old, in with the new. But it doesn't work that way.

It's small changes, one at a time, that build up over the year. It's the sum of what you do, day in and day out, that make up the year. I was not where I wanted to be, at the end of 2013. Yet, as I look back over the past year, I have to admit: it kind of WAS my year. I flipped tires. I portaged a canoe on a 6-day trip. I met a lot of new friends. I increased the number of pushups I could do. I tried things for the first time, like racquetball and doing a keg stand (!) and scaling a climbing wall. How can a few bad weeks negate all of that, just because they happen to fall at the end of the year and not in the middle?

So. No resolutions this year. Not New Year's ones, at least.
Wake up every day and commit or re-commit to myself. Keep going. That is what I resolve to do.
To look forward, and make the rest of my life the best of my life, not just this year.

Another year I made a promise to myself. Another year, I turned it all around.
"Do not save this for tomorrow. Embrace the past and you can live for now."