There’s Nothing Magical About January 1
Hustle and Heart
why resolutions rarely work
January often comes with a subtle pressure: decide to be different. New goals. Fresh starts. If we want it badly enough, we assume change will follow. Weight loss. More intentional relationships. Athletic or career milestones.
But that’s not how growth actually works. Your brain doesn’t change because you make a resolution.
how real change happens
Change happens through repeated experience, especially under stress, pressure, or vulnerability. Your brain is always learning, whether you mean to or not. Neurons that fire together, wire together- meaning the experiences you repeat, particularly in emotionally charged or high-pressure moments, become the ones your brain defaults to. The more aware we are of this, the more we can guide ourselves toward the experiences we want to strengthen in our lives.
For athletes, this shows up in familiar ways: how your body feels at the start line, how you respond when a race goes off plan, or what happens after a mistake. For others, it’s quieter but just as powerful—how you brace before hard conversations, the loop of self-criticism, or how you respond to rest, closeness, or uncertainty.
This is neuroplasticity in action: the brain rewires itself based on repeated experience. Thoughts, emotions, and reactions that get repeated—especially under pressure—become your default.
And this is why resolutions so often fall apart. Most rely on willpower or hope. Research suggests that up to 80% of New Year’s resolutions fail by February—not because people don’t care enough, but because they ask the brain to behave differently without giving it new evidence. Hope can spark change, and insight can open the door, but neither tends to hold under pressure. When you’re tired, stressed, or overwhelmed, your brain reaches for what’s familiar—even if it’s no longer helping you.
this is the work
I see this play out all the time—in my own life, in my family, and in the athletes and clients I work with.
My freshman son recently made his first high school basketball team. Not long after the season started, his coach noticed his work ethic, coachability, and love for the game and invited him to play some JV-level minutes. In the past, that kind of opportunity would have felt intimidating. Something he might have hesitated around, unsure if he really belonged there.
This time, he was still nervous—but he said yes. He stepped into those moments anyway. Each time he showed up, he gained a little more confidence. And once he started to feel, in his body, that he could take up space on the court and contribute alongside his teammates, something shifted. His energy changed. He played with more confidence, more aggression, more freedom.
That kind of confidence doesn’t come from hype or positive thinking. It comes from repeated experiences that quietly build trust: I can do this.
I often see the same pattern in the athletes I work with: the brain clings to old stories, even when evidence shows you can reach a goal. Repeated, trusted experience is what shifts those beliefs.
I also notice it in the athletes I know personally.A close friend of mine, who has raced long distances on both roads and trails for years, recently returned to the roads to focus on speed again. After a strong training cycle, all signs pointed toward a sub-three-hour marathon—something she had long believed wasn’t meant for her.
That old belief still lingered. Not for me. She wasn’t quite ready to fully commit to it, and instead raced a bit more conservatively. Even so, she ran an incredible race—a big personal best—finishing just two minutes over that once-unthinkable time. She crossed the line, looking strong, feeling like she had more to give.
More importantly, she left the race knowing—deep down—that the goal is possible. And next time, she’s ready to step into it with more belief and more courage. That shift didn’t come from willpower or mantras. It came from actually doing it—over and over until she knew she could.
This is how real change happens. Not all at once. Not because we decide to want something badly enough. But through small, repeated moments of showing up differently—especially when things feel uncomfortable or uncertain. Over time, those moments become evidence. And evidence is what allows belief to take root.
small steps, real change
Change isn’t about thinking differently—it’s about giving your brain evidence it can trust. Tools like mantras, reframing, and mental cues can be powerful, and I use them often in my work with clients. But they tend to stick best when they’re anchored to real experience. When your brain has felt you show up, stay present, or succeed under pressure, those words start to land differently. They’re no longer something you’re trying to convince yourself of—they’re reminders of what you already know is possible.
So where do you start? Start small. Be specific. Not with a sweeping resolution, but with moments that give your brain new data—on the run, in a conversation, or in how you respond to yourself when things don’t go as planned.
Final Thoughts: putting it into action
Here are a few ways to begin:
Notice one moment each day where you feel stress, doubt, or hesitation—like the start of a workout or a tough mile—and practice responding just a little differently.
Pick one small, achievable behavior to repeat this week—staying engaged in a hard conversation, asking for what you need, or not backing away when something feels uncomfortable.
Reflect each evening: What evidence did I give my brain today that I can handle this?
Each moment is a small step toward a new internal script. Over time, those steps add up. Your brain begins to expect something different. Change can feel slow at first—but you’re not failing. You’re collecting evidence.
Instead of asking, “What do I want to achieve?” try asking: “What kind of person am I practicing becoming?”
Growth doesn’t happen on January 1—it happens in the moments you keep showing up for yourself. Start there. This year isn’t about trying harder—it’s about practicing how you show up, again and again, with intention.
