The idea of making resolutions at the start of the year isn’t new. Nearly 4,000 years ago, the ancient Babylonians marked the new year with a festival during which people promised to repay debts and return borrowed items. There is even an account of a Babylonian king who used the festival to publicly vow that he would become a better ruler in the year to come.
Later, the Romans adopted January 1 as the beginning of the year, dedicating it to Janus, the two-faced god who symbolically looks both backward and forward. Like the Babylonians, they marked the new year with festivals and rituals but also focused on practical ways to put things in order: cleaning homes, settling debts, stocking the pantry, and preparing households for the months ahead. The focus was on starting the year on the right foot.
As Christianity spread across Europe, the new year became a time for moral reflection. Rather than focusing on households or debts, the emphasis shifted inward. The new year was used to reflect on past behaviour, confess faults, and commit to becoming a better Christian.
Today, most resolutions focus on self-improvement: exercising more, drinking less, sleeping better, reading more, or becoming more disciplined. The goals may have changed, but the habit of starting fresh at the beginning of the year hasn’t.
There is no real reason why beginning on January 1 should make a habit or resolution stick. A calendar change doesn’t rewire the brain. And yet, I still find the idea of a fresh start motivating – especially at the start of a year, when it feels like everyone is trying to improve at the same time.
By the end of January, that initial motivation usually begins to wane. With the first month of the year behind me, it feels like a good time to reflect on what I’ve already learned.
I tried to start the year strong with a challenge. On January 1, I set out to run four miles (roughly 6.4km) every four hours for 48 hours. It was meant to be 12 runs in total, but I only made it through eight. By then, my abdomen was so sore that I could no longer push through the pain.
Even though I didn’t finish, the real failure would be to walk away and not try again. I always learn a lot from falling short, and I tend to come back stronger. That isn’t a new lesson, but it was a useful reminder to start the year with – and it left me eager to attempt the challenge again.
Another mistake I’ve made in the past is the all-or-nothing approach. If the resolution is to read 10 pages every day, missing a single day can feel like failure. But inconsistency is normal. Life gets in the way. Continuity over the long run matters far more than daily perfection. In the same way, a cheat meal is fine once in a while, as long as it doesn’t turn into several cheat days in a row.
Setting the bar unrealistically high doesn’t magically improve performance either. Making a long list of resolutions usually leads to abandoning most of them. That’s why the end of January – or any natural pause – is a good moment to reflect on what actually matters. We can try to do almost anything, but we can’t do everything at once.
That said, I still like hard goals: the kind you’re not completely sure you can reach. I also enjoy small, specific targets, like lifting a certain weight in the gym, improving a running time, or sticking to a routine. You eventually realise that there are broader goals in life that matter far more, but the smaller ones are still fun to have.
Spending more time with friends and family. Connecting better with the people around me. Those are the things that matter more than any number on a barbell or stopwatch. Relationships give the smaller goals their meaning, and surrounding myself with like-minded people shapes my habits far more than motivation alone.
The most important lesson, though, is one I keep having to remind myself: don’t postpone happiness. Most of us have already achieved things we once believed would make us happy. And yet, the finish line keeps moving. There is always another goal, another version of life just out of reach. If happiness is always delayed until the next achievement, it never really arrives. Enjoying the process of everything is, in itself, a resolution worth keeping.
A useful way I’ve found to approach resolutions is to work backwards rather than listing everything I want to change. What would need to happen over the next 12 months for me to feel the year was a success? I recently heard another question that stuck with me: what would my 85-year-old self wish I had done more of?
Thinking this way reminds me of the privilege it is to be healthy and worry-free enough to challenge myself. Pushing toward ultra-marathons or other “extreme” adventures feels exciting, but so does appreciating the everyday. Spending the start of the year in London and New York with freezing temperatures also made me especially grateful to live in a warm country like Portugal.
This year is all about balancing ambition and gratitude – between striving for difficult goals and enjoying the life I already have.
Read more articles from Jay Costa Owen: What it was like running the Lisbon Marathon or Waterfalls of Serra do Cipó
