When the Queen of England sits down to deliver her Christmas speech analysing the comings and goings of the year just gone, I often wonder how much input she has had in choosing the events she speaks about. While it is easy to imagine her stumbling out of bed... OK maybe that's not something any of us should be imagining, but while we are on the subject, why not take a small diversion?
In my head, every morning the Queen falls out of bed, her eyes slowly getting used to her environment, and each time she does she is struck by the sumptuous surroundings in which she laid her head to rest the previous night, a childlike awe must descend across every inch of her perfectly sculpted body. Like an Olympic hurdler, she gracefully avoids several sleeping Corgis and one aging Prince, all laying prone on the carpeted floor.
She makes her way to her first reflection of the day, in her favourite mirror, as it never lies. I imagine she wakes up in the same t shirt she was wearing the night before, with the face of some forgotten rock band on the front. There is saliva around the corner of her lips and the remnants of last night's TV snack still stuck to her sleep soaked t shirt. She looks at her reflection and allows herself a wry smile, knowing full well when the doors of her great room swing open, all hands will arrive on deck to transform her into a nation's favourite granny.
Was that fun?! No? Can you sense I am avoiding a very important question? What size is her bed? Well, whenever you see the Queen, smiling wistfully to herself, attending an event bursting at the seams with her loyal subjects, she must be thinking, "These people haven't a focking notion about the size of my bed!"
So, back to her speech. Each year, the Queen takes time out to run through the events of the year. Picking out the good and the not so good. Each event is one that has made an impact on the world we call home. I thought to myself, I can do that. So let's have a go.
This time last year I set myself some serious goals. I wanted to go out at most once a month on an almighty bender, spending the rest of the time engaging in more relaxed activities, like theater and dinners out with good friends. I also wanted get fit, fitter than I had been in a long time, I wanted to get to a level of fitness where one burger was not going to set me back two months of hard graft. I wanted to read more books and watch more films. Lastly, I wanted to make a difference in a charitable way, I wanted to help out at a soup kitchen or become part of an event.
Oh... and I set myself the task of writing 10 blogs...oops!
So let's get the calculator out and see how I did with the nights out. Maybe it is a better indication if we count the amount of times I went for dinner with my friends or went to the theater. OK, straight away we can drop the notion of the theater...oh no hang on... I dipped the big toe of my right foot into the whirlpool that is English amateur theater and by God was it fun. We all have hidden talents, some are so far hidden we ourselves don't know they are there. One friend's talent was worth a trip to one of the biggest cities in the world. Stand in front of your peers and pretend you are not who they know you to be, and convince them thoroughly that you are someone else. The majority of us will falter, he didn't, as he pulled of an incredibly entertaining and heartwarming piece of acting.
Dinner... tick. There is a lot to be said for a group of old friends sitting around a table sharing stories of days gone by and even more about what the future is likely to hold. Banter, laughter, craic, slagging, stories, throw a hashtag in front of all of them and you have the ingredients of a modern day Twitter sponsored dinner. Pare away the melee of people and face yourself with one friend, something I always thought would be a strange experience. It was, strange in that I wanted more of it. Making time to step off the rollercoaster and shoot the breeze with one of my best friends is something I will always be thankful for. It started with one good friend and before I knew it, I was holding individual court with plenty more individual friends. A smartly managed hour on lunch or a careless attitude to hours post work, it didn't matter, time well spent is time well spent.
Time to stop avoiding the drinking question. I failed, miserably. Not only did I not manage to only partake in one night a month's debauchery, I increased the level if anything. One night on the tear all to frequently became 2, on holidays (of which there were many), that number was known to grow. Like a fine cocktail, the hangovers were mixed with both drama and fun times, shaken and stirred in equal measure. No getting away from the fact I failed in my task, so black mark against me there.
Surely all this drinking must have contributed to a physical shut down not seen since Samson slayed Goliath. Well no, while there were copious amounts of alcohol drank, my fair share of beads of sweat hit the floor. It started with baby steps and the goal of completing a 10k run in under 45 minutes. To my surprise and ultimate delight I managed several baby steps that lead to several kilometers which in turn lead to not one but seven 10k runs. I thought I would hate it, hours of running on a treadmill to prepare for running in wet and windy conditions with no one to take up the slack when I wanted to quit. That was the my biggest challenge, for years I was part of a team, teams where I was the best at times, frequently the average performer and sometimes a passenger. We lived and died on OUR results, on my good days I could walk with pride buoyed by an excellent team effort, on the not so good I could choose to lay blame at someone else's door. I could pick and choose how I had performed.
Not on a ten k run, my time was my time and no one else's. What terrified me drove me onwards as I ran like a mad man towards the finish line with all I had. I found I loved it. Sailing by other competitors while listening to a medley of 5ive, B*witched, Ini Kamoze and Billie Piper to name but a few, brings it's own sense of achievement.
Raising money for a very worthy cause was also part of the sense of achievement. When I came across the finish line under 45 minutes in the Great Ireland run, I narrowly avoided having to match the quite considerable €500+ raised by my friends and family. Seamless as ever, I'm sure you can see where this is headed. That charitable contribution was probably the height of my efforts to help the less well off. So, I'm gonna say another fail. Not one man hour was used physically helping in a new endeavor, therefore task failed.
I have watched more films and read more books in 2013 than I thought I would do, so go me! Pass! Although in recent days I have misconstrued quotes from Scent of a Woman and Scary Movie as general everyday comments. Maybe "must try harder" is more apt.
Crossing the threshold from 2013 to 2014 I have a smug look plastered across my face. If I wanted to complete one task in 2013 it was to spend more time with my friends and family. It is easy with my family, I live at home and they are people I easily spend time with. It is more difficult with my friends, they don't live at home, some don't live in Dublin, some don't live in Ireland, I think you can see where this is going. Alternatively read any number of doom and gloom tales about Ireland's brain drain. I was determined to reconnect with friends no matter where they were.
So from Dublin to Mitchelstown, Atlanta to London, Limerick to Hvar, Zurich to Kinvara, Havana to Barcelona not to mention San Diego, I raise a glass to you all as you gather around my imaginary table in celebration of 2013.
If you played even the smallest part in making 2013 what it was then allow yourself a moments break from whatever it is you are doing and drift away to this.
