I was bike riding this morning, and I started thinking about New Year’s resolutions.
Actually, that’s not quite right—I was thinking about how I don’t make them. Never have.
And I started wondering why that word bothers me so much.
Then it hit me: resolute.
You know what that word actually means? Unwavering. Indomitable. Undefeatable. They named battleships after it.
Because when you wake up on January 1st and tell yourself you’re going to be this unstoppable force—that you’re going to do X thing perfectly for the next 365 days—you’re already setting yourself up to fail.
That’s not how humans work. We don’t change through sheer force of will on a single day. We change through repetition, through adjustments, through falling down and getting back up.
So as I was pedaling this morning, I started mentally reviewing what I actually do at the start of each year. And it’s nothing like what most people think of as resolutions.
I Start by Looking Backwards, Not Forwards
Before I think about what needs to change, I look at what I managed to keep last year.
For me, that was mouth taping every night. Taking my magnesium daily. Walking 10,000+ steps. Keeping a consistent bedtime.
I write those down. I acknowledge them. I give myself credit.
When you start by recognizing what you did right, you build momentum instead of shame. Most people do the opposite. They fixate on everything they failed at, then try to overhaul their entire life at once.
That’s why most resolutions die by February.
Then I Pick One Thing—And I Chip Away at It
Last year, my bloodwork came back showing a low omega-3 to omega-6 ratio.
I remember staring at that number and feeling…honestly, a little overwhelmed. Because I knew omega-3s were important. But how important? And what was I supposed to do about it?
I started where most people start: Google. And immediately got bombarded with conflicting advice.
Take fish oil. No, take krill oil. Actually, eat more salmon. But what about mercury? What about rancid oils? Liquid or capsules? How much EPA vs. DHA?
I bought a bottle of fish oil capsules. Took them for two weeks. Forgot about them for a month. Started again. Stopped again because I couldn’t remember if I was supposed to take them with food or without.
Then I read about C15:0—an odd-chain saturated fat that most people don’t get from diet anymore. The research on it was compelling. So I added that.
But I still had the fish oil capsules sitting in the cabinet. So I thought, why not both?
Then I read that liquid fish oil might be more bioavailable. So I bought a bottle of that too. Now I had three different things I was supposed to remember to take.
Some mornings I’d take the liquid. Some mornings I’d take the capsules. Some mornings I’d forget entirely and take them at night instead. Or I’d be traveling and wouldn’t have them with me.
It took me probably six months to figure out a system that actually worked: liquid fish oil in the morning with my soft boiled eggs, and gel caps when I travel.
And you know what? That’s fine.
Because the goal was never perfection. The goal was to move that omega-3 to omega-6 ratio in the right direction. And slowly, through trial and error and forgetting and adjusting, I did.
When I got my bloodwork done again eight months later, the ratio had improved.
Not because I executed a perfect protocol from day one. But because I kept coming back to it, even when I screwed up.
What I Call These
I don’t call them resolutions.
I call them soft promises. Or sometimes just behavioral modifications.
Small, achievable changes I know I can stick with—even imperfectly.
And if I accomplish one? Great. I keep going down the list.
If I don’t? I don’t throw my hands up and quit. I just keep coming back.
Progress isn’t about being resolute. It’s about showing up imperfectly, over and over again, until one day it finally sticks.
That’s the small, messy, unglamorous work that nobody talks about. But it’s the only thing that actually works.
So Here’s What I’d Ask You
Forget the battleship mentality.
Instead: What did you actually keep doing last year? Write it down. Give yourself credit.
What’s one thing you want to change this year? Not ten. Just one thing that matters.
What small tweak can you make—knowing you’ll probably mess it up sometimes? No grand declarations. No all-or-nothing.
Just small changes that compound over time, even when you forget, even when you fall off, even when it takes you eight months to figure out the system.
Real transformation doesn’t happen on January 1st.
It happens every single day after, when you keep showing up—even after you’ve fallen off the wagon 100 times.
All my best for a great 2026,
Mark
P.S. If you missed my post on the psychology of flossing, it’s worth reading. It breaks down why habit-building beats willpower every time.
The post Why I don’t believe in New Year’s resolutions appeared first on Ask the Dentist.
