How to beat the January blues by staying motivated this month

January has the subtle charm of a bad hangover that lasts all month. The holidays are over. The house is eerily quiet without the Christmas tree poking its spiky green fingers into every corner.

Suddenly, I’m very aware that my living room isn’t a show home, it’s lived-in, cluttered, loved. And then there’s my late mum’s birthday on January 2nd. It’s a sharp little pang reminding me she’s not here. She’s not here to call me out on my bad habits.

Here’s how I’m surviving and occasionally thriving this beast of a month:

She’s not here to correct my bad grammar or laugh at my ridiculous gym antics. I’m a bit emotional thinking about it all. Fitness goals? My Achilles tendinitis has flared up, so some mornings going downstairs just feels like trying to wade through treacle.

Money doesn’t help. January is basically a financial disaster. MOT, rising bills, post-holiday splurges… my bank account looks like it’s been trampled by Santa’s sleigh. H and I try to do everything for C at Christmas.

We hunt down Lego sets in Fenwick. C bounces around like a caffeinated elf, eyes glued to every creation. He chatters non-stop about his list to Santa. It’s great, of course. But by January, all I can do is pray nothing breaks. I hope nothing falls apart or demands replacement.

Compliment someone at the gym. Hold a door. Or even talk to your plants. My succulent now knows more about my life than half my friends at the moment. Tiny gestures lift your mood faster than any overpriced latte. With school runs, muddy trainers, and C’s endless questions, kindness toward others is essential. Be kind to yourself as well.

My vision board is full of things that matter to me. It is a riot of scribbles, photos, and quotes I actually relate to. Fitness, personal growth, career, and yes, surviving January without losing my mind. I still pine for Norway, with those dramatic fjords and crisp fresh air. But that’s the point. It’s a vision board, not reality… yet. One day, those mountains will be ours. We’ll breathe deeply without stepping on a Lego Star Wars ship in the living room.

Yesterday, I joined a colleague-led yoga session at work. It was hilarious, and vaguely humiliating. Thirty minutes of stretching, wobbling, and pretending I’m as graceful as a swan, then the office dog joined in. Trying to hold downward dog while a wet nose presses insistently against yours? Let’s just say I discovered a new level of balance and patience.

Each evening, I jot down one thing I’m grateful for. Coffee counts. Surviving the school run without screaming counts too. Those daily journeys are a battle of wills. C tries every trick to wrestle my mobile away. “All my friends get to play on theirs, Mum!” By the end of the month, I’ll have a jar full of tiny victories. These victories make winter feel less bleak. They feel slightly heroic as well.

Yoga, cooking, push-ups – January is perfect for novelty. This month, I also decided to tackle Farsi again. Spoiler: it did not go well. My R’s sounded like a cat in a bath. C, of course, rolls his perfectly when he tries. He finds my attempts hilarious. Every phrase was a battle, but if my rubbish attempts help C learn a new language, that’s all that matters.

Forget “lose 30 pounds by March.” I have many goals this month. They include blogging and learning new technical skills. I’m also focused on understanding AI for PR. Additionally, I want to write content that actually makes sense without it sounding like a robot. Editing anything with AI is enough to make my head spin. It’s definitely a dark art. The trick for this month is just small wins. One clear blog post is a win. Mastering one AI tool at at time is a success. Having one moment of “I actually did that” keeps me sane.

Whether it’s friends, family, colleagues, or even blog followers, accountability works wonders. My 50 in 50 challenge is public. Nothing keeps me moving quite like knowing someone is silently judging, or cheering me on. Bonus: my husband H, with his flawless Persian skin and not-an-ounce-of-fat body, laughs at my grunts in the gym. But we all know, he secretly admires my persistence.

Brisk walks, frosty hikes, ice skating if you dare. The cold bites, the wind whips, but the feeling you get as you out-walk, out-stretch, and out-breathe January is addictive. Bonus: C joins me on most walks. C complains loudly about the cold. He does enjoy kicking the occasional frozen puddle though.

I’m doing a 10,000-step challenge with my work team. Tracking, nudging, and occasional gloating keeps motivation high. It also gives ample opportunity to pretend I’m winning. Meanwhile, I’m secretly huffing in the corner. Mildly competitive misery turns winter from slog to sport, and honestly, I need all the sport I can get.

Made it to the gym? Survived spin? That counts. Progress is persistence, plus a hefty dose of self-compassion, and humour. Every small win is a rebellion against the bleakness of January. C actually eating breakfast without negotiation is one such victory. Another is me getting through a full stretch session without spiralling into cramp.

Occasional stories, experiments, discoveries and rabbit holes from Saffron & Cyrus.