New Year, New Resolution? Why Resilience Outperforms Resolution

Written by Elle Whitelegg


September brings with it a particular kind of energy. Unlike the more artificial new year reset in January, the start of the academic year signals a tangible transition: returning to Cambridge, stepping back into familiar streets and routines, yet knowing that the months ahead will demand new levels of focus, learning, and growth. There’s an eagerness that comes from summer rest - renewed energy, a readiness to absorb new ideas, the spark of fresh influences. But alongside the excitement often sits a quieter uncertainty: what challenges will this term bring? Where will the next step up take us?

Unlike January, which asks us to change within the continuity of our existing environment, September often asks us to re-enter an old one in a new way. We slip back into roles and networks, already familiar with the landscape, but aware that new terrain lies ahead. The rooms, the structures, the support systems are known quantities; what’s uncertain is how we will grow within them, and which parts of ourselves we will need to bring forward or leave behind.

That’s why this season so often becomes a moment for resolutions. It feels like an inflection point, a chance to wipe the slate clean. Yet the risk is that our desire for change is not always grounded in what will serve us. There are real opportunities in September: to carry forward habits we nurtured during quieter months, to double down on behaviours that make us stronger, to leave behind ways of working that kept us stuck. But there are traps too. In the rush to improve, we can fail to address the beliefs that sit beneath our actions. We might convince ourselves, for instance, that leaving work until the last minute is proof that we thrive under pressure – when in reality it reflects a self-limiting narrative about what focus and discipline look like.

It is easy to confuse the observation of room for improvement with the obligation to change everything. Sometimes, the more courageous step is to ask whether what we’re already doing is, in fact, working. Is progress being made? Are we learning, socialising, and contributing in ways that feel purposeful? If so, perhaps the wisest resolution is to keep going, resisting the pressure to reinvent for its own sake.

For entrepreneurs, each quarter brings with it the seductive appeal of a “fresh start,” as if momentum can only be regained by a total reset. In practice, the opportunities and pitfalls are the same as in an academic term. Change can be an invitation to build more intentionally, but it can also distract. Many entrepreneurs fall prey to the “new and shiny” trap, where a single article, a casual conversation, or a passing trend prompts a complete pivot. The danger is that in chasing novelty, they abandon the deep reflection and critical thinking that makes their innovation meaningful.

True entrepreneurial advantage lies not in being carried along with the crowd but in seeing what others can’t. That kind of vision takes time to develop. It demands a willingness to pause, to analyse where the herd is moving, and to notice the opportunities they are missing. Resolutions made in haste, without this reflection, can undermine long-term sustainability. Stakeholders - whether investors, customers, or employees - find reassurance in coherence. They need to know what to expect, even if what they expect is ongoing evolution. The challenge for a founder is not only to innovate, but to bring others along in that evolution: to explain how changes deepen value, how adjustments respond to real problems, how progress is built on what has come before.

Why, then, do so many resolutions fail, whether in business or in personal life? The language we use gives a clue. Resolutions are often framed in absolute, rigid terms: “I will never,” “I will always,” “From now on I must.” They leave little room for growth, little space for the inevitable setbacks that come with experimentation. More sustainable change tends to emerge from practices that allow for iteration. “This month I will increase my focus on this project by…” or “When I notice myself slipping into this habit, I will try…” Such frameworks keep us accountable while leaving space for adaptation.

There is also a wider cultural pull at play. In both academia and entrepreneurship, there is constant pressure towards self-improvement. Reflection is often confused with the need to change, as if pausing to evaluate must automatically produce a new commitment. But not every period of reflection should result in revolution. Sometimes its purpose is simply to notice what’s working, to strengthen what is already in place, to deepen rather than discard.

The alternative, then, is to think less about rigid resolutions and more about rhythms. In the previous article we explored the cycles of performance and recovery that shape our effectiveness. The start of term can be thought of not as a reset button, but as a point of recalibration. A moment to plan the coming phase with intention. For an athlete, the beginning of a new training block is a time of excitement, with performance gains often unlocked by the prior rest period. But wise athletes also understand the dangers of starting too hard, too fast. They know to ask: is this phase a sprint, demanding a burst of effort, or a longer effort, requiring careful pacing? Entrepreneurs, too, must recognise the shape of the term ahead, choosing strategies that match the terrain rather than forcing themselves into arbitrary resolutions.

Ultimately, fresh starts are neither good nor bad in themselves. They are opportunities - moments to take stock, to renew energy, to set direction. But they are also moments where pressure can mount, where the weight of new commitments risks overloading what is already working. The most sustainable way forward is not to chase change for its own sake, nor to reject it outright, but to approach each new phase with curiosity and care. What deserves to be built upon? What no longer serves? What is the rhythm of the months ahead, and how will you navigate them with resilience?

The temptation of resolutions will always be there. But when we view fresh starts as recalibrations rather than reinventions, they become less about pressure and more about progress.


Elle Whitelegg is the founder of Praeduco, a coaching and consultancy practice that helps ambitious businesses build performance that lasts. For scale-ups and founder-led teams navigating high growth, constant pressure, and evolving demands, Praeduco delivers tailored workshops and 1:1 coaching programeemes focused on wellbeing, resilience, and sustainable leadership. With a background as a senior marketing leader at global brands like YETI and Reebok, and experience competing internationally in multiple sports, Elle understands first-hand what it takes to perform at the edge—without burning out. She is qualified in Executive Coaching, Nutrition Coaching, and Sleep, Stress & Recovery Management, and holds a mini-MBA in Marketing.

If you’re building something bold and want to lead with clarity, energy, and longevity, get in touch at praeduco.co.

 
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