A few days ago I realized that only 54 days are left in 2026.
It feels like I was just preparing for the first class of September, and now the year is closing, which is partly age and partly teaching, since two semesters have a way of making time pass faster than I would like.
Like most people, I started the year with a list of goals: losing 10 pounds, earning more, paying down debt, and being more present with friends and family.
When I looked at that list in November, I expected the weight goal to look the worst, since I did not lose the 10 pounds even with regular running and strength training (and yes, the French fries and chips probably had a lot to do with it!).
The goal that looked worst was a different one: writing two blog posts a week, published every Tuesday and Thursday at 10 AM. That should have been 104 posts, and I published 49.
What bothers me is that this was the goal I controlled the most. I did not need anyone’s approval, a budget, or a lucky break, only a keyboard and opinions I already had.
I used to assume that goals fully in our hands are the easy ones, but my 49 posts suggest the opposite.
Goals that depend only on us may be harder than we expect, because being accountable to yourself is harder than most of us admit.
The one goal I controlled completely and still kept, my morning run, turned out to have another person built into it, and I now think that is the only reason it survived.
Nobody Notices When I Skip
When something came up during the day, the blog was the first thing to go.
Work deadlines, client questions, endless emails from consultants, and preparation for my Thursday class all had a person (or people) waiting on the other end.
The blog had readers, but modest numbers of them, so every time I considered skipping, I asked myself who would even know.
It never felt like a big decision, and I always told myself I could do it tomorrow.
The trouble is that one skipped day makes the next one easier, and over the year the blog became something I did when I had spare time or one of those rare motivated moments.
Nobody was checking my progress, and I am apparently not a very demanding boss for myself.
The Run Was Never Only Mine
Running was also entirely in my control, and I kept doing it, so I had to ask what made it different from the blog.
Timing was part of the answer, since I ran first thing in the morning before email or phone calls could start, while the blog had a 10 AM publishing time but no protected hours for the writing.
The bigger reason is that the run was never only my goal.
I was running with someone who had a hard time keeping an exercise routine, so skipping meant missing my own workout and also leaving that person without theirs.
I would not have gone out on the busiest mornings on my own, because I have enough experience negotiating with myself to know how that conversation ends.
The one goal that made it through the year was the one that included another person, and the goals that stayed purely mine were the ones that slipped, which I did not expect when I wrote them down in January.
The run also gave me numbers to check against, like shaving five seconds off yesterday’s time, while the blog never gave me anything to measure. Looking back, I had made the run a shared goal without calling it that, and I had never done the same for the blog.
Fifty-Two Days Is Easier Than 365
A full year feels long enough that the January version of me assumed there was always time later.
Fifty-two days is short enough that a skipped Tuesday is visible, which is the kind of pressure I did not have before.
My plan is to publish two posts a week through the end of the year, which comes to about 15 more posts after this one, and I will write first thing in the morning before email, recording a draft out loud since that fits in the time before the day starts.
Since the run only survived because someone else was part of it, I am borrowing the same arrangement for the blog. By publishing this, I have told everyone who reads it, so you are now my running partner, whether you signed up or not.
I would like to say that finishing the year this way will carry momentum and confidence into January and make next year’s goals easier.
I said similar things last January, so I will say that I am curious rather than certain.
If a goal that depends only on me needs a deadline and an audience to work, is it still really my own goal?
Back to the First Class
In September I prepared for my first class weeks ahead, because a room of students was going to be sitting there at the scheduled time.
Nobody sits in a room waiting for my blog post, which probably explains why the class got prepared and the blog did not.
For the next 52 days, I am trying to give the blog some of that same pressure.
If it works, I will walk into January with a streak and some confidence. If it does not, at least I already know what to put back on next year’s list, since losing 10 pounds has been very loyal and constant goal for me all those years. 🙂
