A few weeks ago I was invigorated with the sense of repurpose that a new year always brings, inspired to change a few of my bad habits and begin to form healthy new habits as well. I will lose weight! I will exercise more! I will fix my bed every morning! Wait, first I will leave my bed every morning! And damn it, I WILL shave my legs at least once before summer forces my hand.

Aiding my inspiration was a group of Catonsville folks who have banded together in the hopes of turning our many New Year’s resolutions into reality. Based upon a book written a few years ago entitled Game On!, Catonsville resident Barb Miller is leading approximately 60 people, both locally and at other locations around the country, in an effort to make a game out of health, fitness and other lifestyle changes.

Divided into teams of four or five, we are fighting it out to see which team wins the most points in a month; points garnered by eating right, exercising every day, sleeping well, and starting a new habit. Points are also acquired by drinking ridiculous quantities of water. Ridiculous quantities.

Oh water tower on Melvin Avenue- be afraid, my friend. Be very, very afraid. This game requires participants to drink 3 liters of water a day. THREE LITERS. This may not seem like a lot of hydration to some, but for me it was a huge adjustment. Never in my life have I consumed so much water, and that’s counting the time my sister threw me in a pool to “teach me” how to swim. The first few days of Game On! I basically swam in a puddle of my own making.

I have gotten used to the intake over the last few weeks, but the output is another story. Not since I was nine months pregnant have I been so intimately acquainted with every local public bathroom. Shout out to Mike at the Shell. Thanks, man.

There are penalties as well. Participants are penalized for drinking alcohol. You heard me. Alcohol. One day a week we are allowed to indulge in any debauchery we desire, including alcohol (and gasp!) white bread. But beware overindulgence. Because the next day you are back in the game and facing a hangover meal of egg whites and whole wheat sandwich thins.

I have to say it’s been extremely helpful to know others throughout this town are feeling my pain. Secret pockets of people in every area of Catonsville are miserably exercising at 9 p.m. on the cold streets, while an ever present water bottle drums the threat of a pee break against their legs.

And in Catonsville, there are eyes everywhere. Do not even think of sneaking that scone at Atwater's, for you will be seen. And exposed for the scone-eating cretin you are. Best yet, I will be able to trash talk you on our group’s facebook page.

As the month has progressed the game has become a bit more work. Today I sit, as January nears its end, lightly cloaked in the mood of slight discontent that usually descends upon me at this time of year.  I am hungry and can’t think, and thus I am writing a column about dieting.

It’s quite warm sitting here by my drafty old windows, as the hair on my legs forms a comfy pelt under which I lie. (The cat actually kneaded my legs before settling in for a nap on top of them a few minutes ago). I know I have to exercise but I can’t quite muster the energy to brave the icy streets. The Ravens have just lost and I am feeling sorry for Billy Cundiff's mother.  And then, as I glance out the window, I happen to see an opposing team member jogging by, looking healthy and happy and well-adjusted. I can’t let my teammates down, I..must..get..up.

And so I haul my body off the couch with a renewed sense of purpose.

Game On, Catonsville.