Choosing Year of Fitness as my 2025 theme wasn’t difficult, but it was intimidating. My previous themes have leaned philosophical and emphasized a change in mindset that would affect broader habits; this year’s theme is direct and requires a higher level of personal accountability.
Let’s take a tour of my previous yearly themes:
- 2019: Year of Focus
- 2020: Year of Routine
- 2021: Year of Transition (and a subsequent Season of Creativity)
- 2022: Year of One
- 2023: Year of the Future
- 2024: Year of Opportunity
I’m happy with each of these themes and the changes they effected. I’ve grown throughout my twenties, built strong habits and a better outlook, and have been receptive to personal adjustments.
While it would have been straightforward to craft a theme along similar lines by embracing my new home in Connecticut with a Year of Adventure, or Exploration, or Projects, or any number of alternatives in that vein, I made the tough decision that I’ve been sufficiently frustrated with my approach to health and fitness over the years that it was time to declare enough is enough.
My relationship with my body and self-image isn’t nearly as fraught as what others experience. It’s not a unique story with uncomfortable or problematic details. For most of my teenage and adult life, I’ve been athletic in the sense that I can pick up pretty much any sport and be moderately successful. I have good hand-eye coordination. I enjoy competing and being active. However, I’ve never pushed my physical ceiling and have been overweight for at least a decade, with only one chunk of time at the end of 2020 where I successfully lost significant weight.
I’ve never succeeded in building an exercise routine that lasted more than a month or two, and I have problems with consistently eating an appropriate amount of food while cutting out sweet treats.
As I said, this isn’t a unique health situation but one I must address. This year, where we are now several months into our new home and have settled in, with a good chunk of time with no travel plans, feels like the best shot I’ve had since the pandemic to focus on this aspect of my life and figure out what I need to do to move the needle on my overall level of fitness.
My first step was installing Fitbod. I’ve only heard great things about this app, so I installed it on New Year’s Day. I don’t have access to a gym, so I was pleased to find the bodyweight-only option to begin. I need to reduce friction to build a successful habit of exercising, and so far, this app is perfect: it tells me what to do, so all that’s left for me is the mental and physical effort of doing it.
I briefly achieved my weight goal about four years ago by moderating what I ate. I’ve known for years that it’s impossible for the average person to “outrun” a bad diet, but I’ve failed to act on that knowledge regularly. When I do eat at home, I eat pretty well. I enjoy most healthy foods. However, I also enjoy a candy bar or ice cream, pizza, and burgers: all the stuff that is easy to shovel down without thought. So regularly eating at home—and recognizing that to have successful workouts, I need to eat normal food on a normal schedule—is the next step forward.
An undercurrent of the Year of Fitness is not being embarrassed that I’ve knowingly been doing the wrong thing so often over the years; instead, I’m acknowledging my failures while encouraging the responsible, adult part of my brain to take charge and prioritize my health above other projects and games and activities I could use as an excuse to delay a workout or eat a cheap meal when I’m stressed. I can improve, and I must accept that the improvement is contingent upon a regular focus on the effort. It won’t happen by accident.
At the same time, this theme isn’t ambitious. I want my weight and impulses under control, and an exercise routine I can stick with that keeps me healthy and able to participate in all the sports and activities I enjoy for as long as possible.
Compared to all my previous themes, which essentially amounted to mental gymnastics, the Year of Fitness requires concerted action. I’m intimidated and excited about what I can prove myself capable of accomplishing.