Happy New Year, friends and followers!
Every year, I make a “Goals for the Year” post. I pull out my journal, colorful pens, map out the year, and approach January with a dangerous amount of optimism about what I can accomplish. Run this race. Hit that mileage. Do more. Be better. Try harder. You know – totally reasonable expectations.
And while I don’t think there’s anything wrong with setting goals, I am starting to realize that the “new year, new me, go hard immediately” hasn’t exactly been working out – for me, or for most people, for that matter. Thanks to the wonderful world of social media, I’ve come to find that there may just be an explanation for that.
We expect ourselves to start fresh in January – new habits, big goals, full speed ahead – at the exact time of year when nature is doing the opposite. The winter solstice just happened 12 days ago, which means we are still in the deepest part of winter. The days are dark, and the weather can be harsh. Our bodies naturally want to slow down, rest, and conserve energy. Instead, we push harder. We ramp up our exercise routines. We cut calories. We demand productivity. Apparently, even from bodies that would really like to nap. No wonder it doesn’t stick.
The statistics around New Year’s resolutions support this: about 80% are abandoned by February, and nearly a quarter are dropped within the first week. We tend to view this as a personal failure – not enough discipline, not enough motivation, not enough willpower – when it might not be a failure at all. What if we’re just trying to sprint through a season that’s meant for hibernation?
This idea of setting goals in the winter and executing them in the spring has popped up in my social media feed several times in the past few days. The message is consistent: winter is for slowing down, reflecting, and gathering information – not for drastic change. It’s not saying to avoid goals altogether, but rather to set intentions now and save the execution of goals for spring, when energy naturally amps up around the vernal equinox.
So this year, that’s what I am doing. I am using January and February to rest and reflect on what 2025 taught me – about my brain, my body, and what actually supports me. I’m focusing on how I want this year to feel, rather than building a laundry list of things I want to accomplish. I’m allowing goals to stay flexible instead of locking myself into rigid plans. I still believe in goals, and I’m still setting them – thoughtfully and intentionally. I’m just giving myself permission to wait to act on them until the season makes sense.
Where This Meets Real Life
This approach aligns with what I have learned about myself over the past year. Back in October, I made the decision to stop signing up for races for a while. After a few DNS’s, months of pushing through burnout, and a half-marathon that was not great, I realized something had to change. It wasn’t easy. I felt like I was abandoning an identity that had been so important to me for so long. But training plans, mileage goals, and Garmin challenges had stopped being good for my mental health and were actually hurting it.
Another twist that I wasn’t expecting was the reaction I’d have to everyone posting their race plans for the year. Seeing race registrations all over my social media feed, especially the ones that once held such an important place in my heart, has been hard. Seeing that excitement and those familiar goals stirred up feelings that I hadn’t anticipated. Rejection sensitivity reared its ugly head and convinced me that I was being left out, that I was falling behind, that I didn’t belong in the same way anymore.
I know logically that this was my choice (and the right one) but that doesn’t stop it from hurting. It’s strange how something can feel both right and painful at the same time. Choosing a different path doesn’t automatically make the feelings disappear; it just means learning how to sit with them instead of letting them dictate the decision. And right now, flexibility matters more than ever.
Kenny will have a couple of weeks off from work in February, and I want to be fully present for that time, not squeezing long runs into the margins or stressing about what workout I still “need” to get done. My dad is also having knee replacement surgery that month, and I don’t know exactly what recovery will look like. I want the space to show up for him without feeling torn between being a daughter and sticking to a training plan.
Trying to juggle family responsibilities, quality time, and chasing mileage goals and Garmin badges would be… you guessed it: another recipe for burnout. Served hot. With zero rest days.
Choosing rest, reflection, and flexibility right now is intentional. It’s choosing to honor both my capacity and the people I care about, instead of forcing myself to stick to a plan and “be productive” during a season that already asks a lot.
What I’m Actually Working Toward in 2026
I’m still setting goals, just not all-or-nothing commitments or rigid plans. They’re flexible ones that support my life and the things I want to make space for this year.
Movement & Fitness Goals
- Continue running regularly without committing to long-term race training right now
- Get faster and stronger through a mix of running, strength training, and yoga
- Maintain a routine that includes 1–2 rest days per week
- Keep movement feeling supportive to my mental health, not like an obligation
- If and when races happen, they’ll be chosen closer to the event and based on how I’m feeling – not because I’m feeling FOMO or panic-registering to beat the price increases
ADHD & Mental Health Goals
- Build and maintain routines that support my focus, energy, and transitions
- Keep challenging negative self-talk when it pops up
- Continue learning what actually works for my ADHD (and letting go of what doesn’t)
- Prioritize sleep and recovery as non-negotiables
- Understand myself better and work with my brain instead of constantly fighting it
Work & Professional Goals
- Leave work most days feeling prepared for the next one (“Future Megan” is really sick and tired of cleaning up after “Yesterday Megan,” and she deserves fewer surprises)
- Re-focus on studying for the CSOWM (Certified Specialist in Obesity and Weight Management) exam in a realistic, sustainable way
- Maintain boundaries that protect my energy and attention
- Find satisfaction in the work itself, not just productivity
Nourishment, Creativity & Everyday Life Goals
- Make more meals at home in a flexible, low-pressure way
- Read for pleasure without turning it into a “challenge”
- Keep writing and sharing on this blog and social media without perfectionism
- Continue making friendship bracelets because they’re fun, grounding, and joyful
Connection & Joy Goals
- Prioritize quality time with Kenny through bike rides, meals, and quick getaways
- Keep concerts, trivia nights, and shared experiences on the calendar
- Choose connection over busyness
- Say yes to the things that genuinely fill my cup and be okay with saying no when they don’t, or there’s just too much on my plate
The Intentions Underneath the Goals
As I was writing this blog – and, naturally, taking breaks to doom scroll – a post naming 2026 intentions for each Enneagram type caught my attention (I don’t build my life around the Enneagram, but these words felt worth listening to). The one for me, Enneagram 9, lined up so perfectly with these goals I have for myself. These are the intentions that @mirabellecreations on Instagram posted:
- Choose what you want before asking what others prefer
- Take small steps toward your passions every week
- Say what’s on your heart, not just what keeps the peace
- Build routines that energize you, not numb you
- Move your body in ways that bring you joy
- Create space for your voice, it matters deeply
- Stay awake to your life and let yourself shine
As I read through them, I felt seen in a way that was both comforting and clarifying. These intentions put words to things I’ve been slowly learning the hard way over the past year. Each one echoes a shift I’m already making: choosing what feels right instead of what looks right, moving toward things that light me up without turning them into pressure, and building a life that supports my energy rather than draining it. They also gently challenge me to take up space, to trust my voice, and to stay present instead of defaulting to autopilot.
That’s really what I want 2026 to be about. Not a year of proving myself. Not a year of chasing numbers or meeting expectations that don’t fit anymore. A year of paying attention – to my body, my brain, my relationships.
If winter is the season for reflection, then these intentions feel like seeds I’m planting now for the spring. I don’t need to execute all of this immediately. I just need to keep choosing – little by little – what brings me back to myself. To keep watering the seeds without rushing them to grow.
Spring will come when it’s ready. And when it does, I trust that I’ll be ready too.
RD on the Run 