A new year has a funny way of making us pause. Sometimes it comes with fireworks and big plans. Sometimes it comes quietly, somewhere between a frozen breath and the crunch of snow under boots. For me, 2026 arrives not with a grand reset, but with a deep breath and an honest look at where I am.
2025 was not easy. And if I’m being real, it still isn’t.
My weight has gone up. My energy feels heavy at times. My mindset drifts more often than I would like. I carry the weight of seeing injustice in the world, of wanting to do more, of caring deeply about communities, youth, and systems that don’t always move the way they should. And somewhere in all of that, I have not always taken care of myself the way I encourage others to.
Physical Literacy is often talked about as something for kids, for athletes, for programs. But the truth is, Physical Literacy is a lifelong relationship with movement, with our bodies, and with how we show up in the world. It changes. It ebbs and flows. And sometimes it asks us to start again, gently.
At the same time, I do not want to pretend that the year was only heavy. There were good moments, real ones. Not the kind that come with fireworks or lottery wins, but the kind that stay with you. Someone being genuinely excited that you are wearing their community hoodie. Quiet pride in watching capacity grow where there was once very little. The shared laugh with an athlete who understands your humour and still holds you accountable. The small nods, smiles, and thank yous that remind you that showing up matters, even on days when you feel tired. Those moments did not fix everything, but they mattered, and they still do.
So here’s what I’m doing. Not big changes. Not dramatic promises. Just smaller adjustments that I know I can live with. I’m starting to walk again. Every day. Not for speed. Not for numbers. Just to move.
Okay, full honesty, maybe a little for the numbers too, because my watch keeps reminding me that those steps are still unfinished and apparently it takes that job very seriously. But still. You know what I mean.
I’ll enjoy the cold air. The frozen hairs in my nose. The quiet moments when the world feels still. And yes, I’ll probably still be wearing shorts and Birkenstocks longer than most people think is reasonable. That part of me is not changing. But I will dress warmer when it matters, and I will listen to my body more closely.
I’m looking at food differently. Not by how much I eat, but by what the food actually is. Fuel versus filler. Care versus habit. When hunger shows up, I’ll start with water. Drink first. Pause. Then decide.
I’m reminding myself that health is not punishment. Movement is not a debt. And change does not need to be loud to be meaningful.
Physical Literacy is not about perfection.
It is about awareness.
It is about choice.
It is about showing up, again and again, even when it feels hard.
2026 is not about becoming someone new. It is about reconnecting with who I already am. One step at a time. Literally.