Instead of goals and resolutions, I'm sticking with hopes. I hope that this is the year I start to trust my knees and start to enjoy running again. I hope that I make it back to England. I hope that I find the guts to start yoga. I hope that I sleep more and worry less. I hope to not eat a single beet.
So here's to twenty-eight. Here's to a year of chocolate cake, homemade pizza / hockey dates with my husband, and puppy cuddles.