New year, new you?

In the USA the holiday season feels like a two-month extravaganza from Halloween to New Year with Thanksgiving, Hanukkah, and Christmas in the middle.

It's a relentless barrage of celebration. It's an onslaught of food and drink, culminating in a week-long stretch of (hopefully) work-free sofa time. It's no surprise that people get to January burnt out — both physically and mentally — and strive for change.

Along with a better diet, better sleep, and better exercise regimen, alcohol is among the first things that people try to change their relationship with. Changing my relationship with alcohol is how I inadvertently started running again as an adult.

Story time: It was 2007, and I was in my first job out of journalism college. I hadn't landed at one of the trade mags like I was aiming. Instead, I got a gig as the online editor for the largest independent radio station in the UK. I was also freelancing for some of the biggest music magazines in the world. I was young, I was in the thick of it, and alcohol permeated everything.

The station had a rock 'n' roll image, and that meant huge monthly parties with an open bar each time. For the magazine work I was at concerts most nights. I was being schmoozed by publicists with pre-show drinks, after-show drinks, during-show drinks. I was on a press junket to a new country every month. It was great. Until it wasn't.

The radio station office was on this lovely square in central London. The door was on the corner of the square, at a diagonal, so you could see both left and right across the whole glorious plaza as you exited. The problem was the pub three doors down. There was always a handful of colleagues braying at anyone they saw come out of those big wooden doors to join them for a quick pint (or seven).

New to full-time employment, I was keen to fit in and make friends, so I always agreed. A few months into this relentless drinking with both of my jobs, however, I was starting to feel quite unwell. (Let's not go into the fact that I was also working two full-time jobs.)

One day, when my radio colleagues called me over, I knew I needed a good excuse. I told them I was training for a race, and had to go home for a run. To my complete surprise, they accepted that excuse as a reason. I was off the hook. I didn't have to drink that evening.

So the next day I signed up to that race. Back then (almost 18 years ago!) running for fun was a weird thing to do. I even sent out a company-wide email asking for sponsorship for my 5k. The station controller put £250 in. Let's not dwell on the fact that I'd signed up for a women-only race. I did think it was odd that there was no "Mr." option for a title. I put it down to an oversight.

If you're in a moment where you're considering your best relationship with alcohol, know that you're far from alone. There are so many more options now (the non-alcoholic beer options now versus a decade ago are incredible), the general attitude towards alcohol is different now, and there are so many people to get advice from. It's a different, better world. Acknowledging the need for a change is a beautiful first step.

Whether it's alcohol, sugar, meat, or sleep, what you do next counts. If you're starting from a less healthy point, the act of running is especially tough at the start, but be sure that you will reap the benefits.

My one piece of advice if you're starting your running journey today? Find a way to make running easier. Take the lowest hanging fruit, and once you've done that, think about the next thing you can make less difficult.

If you're getting out of breath too often, consider slowing down . If you want to make friends, find a run club . If you're concerned about running alone as a woman, find an all-female group . If you want to run across a desert, train your body in a way that can do that.

Recently, I wrote about how I solidified my running practice by appreciating an hour of silence when I had to listen to music every other waking moment. But first, I had to know that I needed that. For me, first and foremost.

That's the crux of this publication. No matter how much we love it (or have come to love it) there will always, always be moments when running sucks. If you can find a way to make running suck less, you're way more likely to continue doing it. You can frame it as your big Why, but I prefer small increments of progress in and appreciation for the thing you're doing.

Good luck.