There’s a dim time during the holidays during which the turkey coma wears off and the delirious Christmas cookie binge has yet to begin. Seize these few lucid moments as a time for reflection.

Elements of the New Year’s resolution can be found as far back as the Roman Empire. They named the first month of the year after the god Janus, who had a face looking backwards and another facing forwards, symbolizing retrospection and expectation.

Most New Year’s resolutions are focused on improving the quality of one’s life. Yet a 2007 study by Quirkology​.com showed that only 52 percent of goal-makers were confident that they would accomplish theirs, and only 12 percent actually accomplished it by the end of the year. A cynic would use this as proof of people’s weakness and lack of determination, but as an eternal optimist, I like to think that most people are just horrible at writing New Year’s resolutions.

To begin crafting a killer resolution, an inspiring setting is critical. The first step for an aspiring goal-setter is to pack a backpack with a little food, some parchment and a quill. They should then bundle up in a down jacket, select a walking stick from a nearby park, and begin the journey of resolution. After several days or weeks of sojourning, civilization falls away, and the lone wanderer will emerge into the lush Northwest backcountry. Mother Nature will hail him or her with a vista of noble trees, illustrious mountains, and roaring rivers. Seated upon a boulder amongst ferns and hanging moss, the writer can now set about crafting their resolution.

The beginning of the resolution sets the tone, so make sure it opens strong. “I resolve …” is okay, but remember, British soldiers used to sit around before colonial battles saying, “I resolve to win,” and look where it got them. Use something like “I decree …” or “With Morticus as my witness, I shall …” for added oomph.

Unquestionably, the most difficult part of the resolution now confronts the scribe: to what cause does he or she swear allegiance? The University of Maryland Medical Center suggests focusing on writing realistic goals that can be broken down into small steps, but no one has ever been remembered because they took things one step at a time and kept things realistic. Without a certain splash of bravado, a New Year’s resolution will simply blend in with the crowd.

The best way to add this flourish is to take an average goal and make it extraordinary. Resolving to lose weight rates high on the US government’s list of top American resolutions. Don’t maintain the status quo; resolve to become the first human being to reach a mass of absolute zero, rendering travel at the speed of light possible. Promising to get fit also appears on the list, while learning to bench press boxcars loaded with cattle does not. Good resolutions don’t just improve, they immortalize.

From now until the end of next year, those words are law, creed and covenant. At all costs, the resolution must be fulfilled. If necessary, extra motivation can be found by writing out a list of painful and repugnant consequences to be inflicted in the case of failure.

In order to complete the determined task, set up a timetable to stay on track. Using the boxcar example, one should be benching senior Nick Thompson by mid January, and moving onto pianos (first upright, then grand) by late March. If the goal is light speed travel, eating anything but dust and liquid hydrogen after February 15 will add far too much weight.

This will not be an easy mission. If a resolution gets written and followed correctly, it should prove the most grueling, punishing experience the writer has ever experienced. Blood, sweat and tears should all be shed in its pursuit. When December 31, 2010 rolls around, those who have championed their goals will stand high in the eyes of humanity. So let this be a year of greatness, of courage, of success. Let this be a year of resolution.