I'm not making any New Year's resolutions this January, 'cos there's nothing about myself I really want to change.

"Whoaaaa, slow down!" you're thinking. Captain Modest is running his mouth.

But it's not arrogance and it certainly isn't perfection; I've more faults than you've eaten Christmas cherries. It's that resolutions for the most of us always prove futile unless we really want to change.

I can think of only one time I stuck a resolution out, and as the Herald on Sunday's poll shows, it was the most common of all.

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It was six or seven years ago. After a year or two in student flats, I thought I could probably do to cut my icecream intake by four or five litres a week.

I wasn't obese, mind. Just puppy-fat plump. Warm. Like someone in a pinky-hued, full-body wetsuit with flabby bits below the arms that quivered like a melting blancmange. And where some people drank and some people smoked, I liked an extra few fried chicken nuggets and a fistful of chocolates with my second morning tea.

So I ate a few more greens. Then I introduced some occasional exercise. Next thing I knew, I'd dropped a couple of cups.

The thing about my resolution, though, was I didn't make it at New Year. It's best to wait a few weeks until the holidays are over to sort out what you really value. Whether it's a healthier lifestyle or something benefiting the wider community, resolutions need to be something you can sustain.

Take some pragmatic steps and if you commit, don't wait for New Year next year to get started. Just. Bloody. Do. It.