“Get a jump start on the new you,” screams an over-enthusiastic sign pasted on the entrance window of my hometown gym. It’s Dec. 27 as I rush to make an appearance at my weekly abs class. I’m a few minutes behind, but sitting in the back of the class is much more desirable than facing the embarrassment of the front row.  
As I open the enormous door into the group fitness room, I notice something unusual: There is not a person in sight.
As I turn to dash out of the empty room before any outside spectators see me, the class instructor walks up the ramp to the large glass door I now hold ajar. “Are you here for the abs class?” a polite voice peeps from the buff guru below. Without thinking, I chirp “yes” a little louder than necessary. Although my intention was to take part in the class, the thought of being the only attendee was nauseating. It was like I had scheduled a group consultation with a gym instructor and ended up getting a one-on-one appointment with a drill sergeant. As I follow her lead into the open room, she mutters, “More people will be here once the New Year starts.” I then imagine the room packed full of participants surveying the floor for even the slightest bit of available space.
Although they will come in all different shapes, sizes and athletic abilities, they all share one common characteristic. For whatever reason, they are here to begin and achieve their New Year’s resolution.
Businesses know this, and they thrive off the marketing and the promoting of the “new you.”
And who can blame them?  Everyone would like a new, improved body and mind, whether we like to admit it or not.
But often our best intentions become diluted. The day after the clock strikes midnight and the celebratory clamor has ceased, many people put that introspective resolution on the shelf to tend to it only when convenient.
I will admit I fall into this category of apathetic partakers. Every year I get an inspirational idea that would make a great New Year’s resolution. Last year, I decided I would work on my shameful sailor’s mouth. When I used a curse word, I would punish myself with 10 push-ups. That way I could tackle two resolutions in one: fitness and kicking a bad habit. The first 10 were effortless. The next 10 were painful. And the last 10 were nonexistent. A week into January, I had officially thrown up the white flag. I gladly put the resolution back on its shelf with the others.
Resolutions aren’t meant to be so carelessly disregarded. Resolutions show the turning of a new page. They are also good luck send-offs as we venture into the new year. In Sicily, there is an old tradition that says good luck will come to those who eat lasagna on the day of New Year’s, and woe to those who dine on macaroni, for any other noodle will pass on bad luck.
The Sicilians rely on a noodle to show them good fortune into the new year, while most of us rely on the gym.
So this year I have decided make a resolution that will require some serious repercussions and withdrawals. For one year, I will delete my Facebook. Unlike my failed resolutions of the past, I hope this year I will be able to fulfill my goal. I hope deactivating my Facebook will give me one less distraction during homework and also more time to spend on the people I know and care about instead of the virtual ones whom I know only through a screen.
Thus, a resolution does not need to be played out in a gym or in a diet. A resolution doesn’t need to be a tremendous sacrifice or a life changing goal. Resolutions can be simple, yet they can grow as complex as you like. But it must be attainable and desirable. If there is no will to achieve your resolution, you might as well leave it on the shelf, untouched and unbothered. Whether you delete your Facebook, join a workout class or just choose to dedicate more time to the people you love, no resolution is pointless. Like everything in life, they just require a little work.
May we venture into this new year with the best of luck and fortune. But if the Sicilian tradition rings true, whoever betrayed lasagna on New Year’s Day maybe be waiting for their “new you” until next year.
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