On Sunday afternoon, joggers were everywhere in Chapel Hill. On a car ride, I turned to my husband and said, “half of the joggers won’t be on the roads in two weeks.” We both laughed. Later, I felt ashamed about being so catty from behind the steering wheel.
Since then, I am beginning to believe that annual surges of activity can be useful even if short-lived. The new year always brings a surge of adrenaline, a desire to right the wrong, to shed the pounds, and to check off the to-do list. While I used to subscribe to the tortoise logic, that steady wins the race, I am no longer certain. I think I believe in the utility of the new year resolution again after years of making fun of this frenetic time of year.
When the 365 days of the old year are erased by a sip of champagne and a kiss, there is an opportunity to move forward on stagnant projects. The weight of the year is light and there is a beautiful illusion of wide, open space in our lives to try out new routines and habits. While the surge probably won’t last, there is something hopeful in the endeavoring.
i wonder if the word “surge,” despite its other meanings–electrical, emotional, athletic–will get over its military associations anytime soon. i doubt it. fallujah, the sunni awakening, and the new injection of forces into afghanistan have made that very unlikely. somehow punning on it to defang it only trivializes the objects of the punning–new year’s resolution runners–especially when you doubt their stamina, short- and long-term. much as i feel a bit like william safire in saying this, “surge” has become a very difficult word to use innocently, or even slyly.