Week 1: Beyond Resolutions – Building a Fitness Identity That Lasts

Hey {{first name | reader}},

Welcome to 2026, and to the first edition of this newsletter experiment. I'm sitting here on January 7th, seven days into Dry January,[^1] seven days into restarting the 100 push-ups protocol,[^2] and wondering if I should have eased into the new year rather than launching myself at it like a middle-aged projectile.

But here we are.

This week's topic: Beyond Resolutions – Building a Fitness Identity That Lasts

Every January, we tell ourselves stories. This is the year I'll finally... This is the year I'll lose the weight, run the marathon, get strong, be consistent. And somewhere around February 3rd, we're back to our old habits, feeling like failures, wondering why we can't seem to stick with anything.

I've been training for longer than I care to admit— over 25 years now—through six cross-country moves, career changes, ruptured left achilles, ruptured right achilles, plantar fasciitis, patellar tendinitis, heartache, grief, and complete apathy. What I've learned is this: resolutions fail because they're based on what we want to do. Fitness identity succeeds because it's based on who we are.

When I moved to San Francisco in 2006, I didn't own a car anymore and the parking options were awful.[^3] I didn't resolve to "exercise more." I just became someone who walked everywhere, who took stairs, who moved through the city on foot. Years later, when I got back into weightlifting seriously, I didn't resolve to "go to the gym 4 times a week." I became someone who lifts. Someone who, when faced with a free morning, thinks, "I wonder what I'm training today?"

The difference is subtle but enormous. Resolutions are things you make yourself do. Identity is who you are.

So this January, instead of making a resolution, I'm recommitting to an identity I already have: I'm someone who trains. Someone who moves her body daily. Someone who, even when she's tired or busy or would rather be reading mystery thrillers on the couch, shows up anyway.

Dry January? That's not about being virtuous. It's about seeing if I can be someone who makes deliberate choices about what I put in my body, even when it's inconvenient at dinner parties. The 100 push-ups protocol? That's about being someone who can still do hard things at this age, even when my shoulders complain.

Here's what I'm asking you to consider this week: What if you stopped trying to do fitness and started being someone who trains? What changes?

"How do you stay motivated year-round? I always start strong in January and fade by March."

I don't. Stay motivated, that is.

Motivation is a feeling, and feelings are fickle. Some mornings I wake up excited to lift. Other mornings—most mornings, honestly—I'd rather practice the mandolin, read another chapter in the latest John Sandford or Michael Connolley thriller, or scroll through Instagram. Instead I make the coffee, pull on my running tights, and go anyway, because that's what people who train do. They show up on the days they don't feel like it.

Here's what helps: I don't rely on motivation. I rely on routine. My workout clothes are laid out the night before. My gym bag lives by the door. I don't debate whether to go—I just go, the same way I brush my teeth. The decision was made years ago when I decided this is who I am.

Also, I've learned that "motivation" often shows up after you start, not before. I can't count the number of times I've dragged myself to the gym thinking, "This is going to be terrible," only to find that twenty minutes in, I'm fully engaged and feeling strong. And it makes the whole day better.

The people who train consistently aren't more motivated than you. They've just removed the option of not showing up.

Myth: You need a complete routine overhaul in January to see results.

Reality: The people who make the biggest changes are the ones who make the smallest adjustments and stick with them.

Every January, gyms are full of people trying to do everything at once: new diet, new workout program, new supplements, meditation practice, sleep schedule overhaul. By February, they're exhausted and quit everything.

Meanwhile, the person who just added one strength training session per week, or started walking an extra 15 minutes daily, or swapped their afternoon snack for something protein-based? That person is still going strong in June.

Big transformations come from small, sustainable changes repeated consistently over time. Not from January heroics that peter out by Valentine's Day.

Pick one thing this month. Master it. Then add another.

Since I'm seven days into Dry January and still craving the ritual of an evening cocktail, here's what's getting me through:

Grapefruit Ginger Fizz

Pour over ice. Garnish with a grapefruit wedge. Looks sophisticated, tastes complex, has enough bite that you don't feel like you're drinking sugar water.

The pinch of salt is the secret—it balances the sweetness and makes it taste more "adult." Also: protein-rich snacks before social events help immensely. You're less tempted to reach for a drink when you're not hungry.

Podcast: Maintenance Phase by Aubrey Gordon and Michael Hobbes

If you're tired of wellness grifters telling you that you're broken and need their $300 supplement protocol, this podcast is for you. They debunk fad diets, wellness trends, and fitness pseudoscience with humor, empathy, and actual research. Start with their episode on the BMI—it'll change how you think about health metrics forever.

The One-Week Commitment Contract

Don't commit to a year of fitness. Don't even commit to a month. Commit to one week.

Here's the challenge: Choose one small fitness action you'll do every day for the next seven days. Not "work out for an hour." Something achievable:

Write it down. Text it to a friend. Put it on your calendar. Then do it every single day for seven days.

At the end of the week, you'll have proof that you can be consistent. Then you can decide if you want to commit to another week. Build identity one week at a time.

Stay strong, {{first name | reader}}

P.S. If you're wondering if I've actually done 100 push-ups yet, the answer is no. I'm on the protocol that builds up to 100—currently doing sets of 10-12 throughout the day. My shoulders hate me, but we'll get there. Slowly, consistently, one push-up at a time.

P.P.S A note on timing: You're getting this on a Wednesday because I'm excited to get started. Going forward, expect this newsletter every Tuesday morning at 9 AM Pacific. Mark your calendar, set a reminder, or just let it be a pleasant surprise in your inbox. Either way, I'll be here weekly with fitness insights, myth-busting, and challenges to keep us all moving.

[^1]: I've been an occasional drinker for years—a glass or two of wine with dinner, a cocktail at events—but I realized I'd stopped making conscious choices about alcohol and started defaulting to "yes" automatically. 

[^2]: The 100 push-ups protocol is a six-week training program designed to get you from "I can do 10 push-ups" to "I can do 100 consecutive push-ups." I did it a couple years ago, got to about 65 consecutive, then let it lapse. Starting over reminds me that building strength is cyclical—you gain, you maintain, you lose a bit, you rebuild. It's all part of the process. 

[^3]: Giving up my car turned out to be one of the best fitness decisions I ever made, though it wasn't intentional. Walking 3-5 miles daily just became part of life. I tell people I'm too lazy to drive—finding parking in San Francisco is genuinely harder than just walking.