Be Uncool: 2010 New Year’s Resolutions

I’m  hesitant to share resolutions. First, it seems like it’s very un-hip to have them. To be cool, you’re either supposed to be above this sort of thing (I set resolutions every week, not just once a year, you loser) or resolutions are  pointless (you have a deep, existential understanding that man’s plight–your plight–is really a bullet train to hell and there’s nothing you can really do to stop it).

Still, I’ve been told that if you share your resolutions, you have a better chance of keeping them. Official self-reflection every year can’t be that bad, right? What did you accomplish last year? Are you better or worse? Happier or sadder? More fulfilled or more empty?

I guess I’m uncool enough that I think it’s worth it. Besides, it makes me feel good to keep any of them. You should try it. Self-satisfaction tastes a little like  an artichoke heart after nibbling away the leaves one by one by one.

To all the bearded, tight-pant, checkered-shirt, scarf-wearing  hipsters out there, here’s 5  resolutions from my 2010 laundry list:

1. Read 36 books. That’s 3 a month. I did 23 last year. I have 18 lined up already. Everyone should have a reading goal. Reading books will make you famous.
2. Picture a day. One photo from each day of the year. I got through February last year. You’ll look at the world differently if you do it. You can watch my flickr stream to see if I’m keeping up.
3. 2 marathons, 2 triathlons, 2 ultras. This, of course, means I’ve got to figure out what’s up with my knee and build my mileage up again. The hundred mile run will be in October. That’s plenty of time to get ready, right?
4. 50 blog posts. It’s all about building your brand, or in my case, continually figuring out what my brand is. 50 posts makes sure that I am writing everyday. Lucky for you, I don’t post everything I write. Otherwise, you might be reading about little, bearded men talking to me from my grandparent’s bushes.
5. 3 months as a vegetarian. I seem to try this one every year and forget about it during some stressful day in February when I attack a plate of buffalo wings.  This year, I’ll shoot for at least 90 days (for month long stretches). I’ll start in January and decide what happens after that.

I’ve got at least 6 more, but believe me, you’re better off not knowing what they are. These are the good ones. The others will give the tight-pant hipsters out there a little too much ammunition.

Now go, be uncool, and make some of your own.