2020 has been a long year, a year like no other… and in many respects, pretty, blooming shite. I’ve tried to make the best of it, but honestly, part of me is just so relieved to see December on the horizon, to know that we’re finally putting this year to bed.
The downside, of course, is that we have no idea that 2021 will be any better. If nothing else, the events of this year have provided a visceral reminder of how little control over our own lives we actually have.
So whilst it’s tempting to see out the rest of 2020, alongside a lifetime supply of pralines, Jack Daniels and a great big bag of ‘who gives a F***?’ I’m aware that sabotaging myself for the next month is only going to make the unknown of 2021 harder to cope with.
I’m reminded of what those annoyingly perky fitness instructors shout: “FINISH STRONG!”
When I hear these words towards the end of a gruelling workout, I’m caked with sweat and utterly broken. My brain chatter is loud and miserable, a mash of ‘I can’t!’ and ‘it’s impossible!’ and ‘I’m tired!’ and ‘is he having a laugh?!’
And yet somehow, despite all of this, I frequently manage to do as instructed; to find a little more energy from reserves I didn’t know I had; to manage one more rep, though my mind declared it impossible; to come away feeling utterly spent, but proud at the same time.
A Gruelling workout feels like a pretty good analogy for 2020 and I’ll undoubtedly finish the year feeling just as knackered, looking just as hideous. I’d just like it if I could ‘finish strong’ at the same time; if I could keep some semblance of a healthy routine going, some notion of self-care; if I could not completely screw myself over; if only so that I wasn’t making things harder for my future-self to deal with come January.
Lord knows, she needs all the help she can get!