Bored of being told to lose the beer belly, eat your greens and spend less time in the pub? Hanna Lindon suggests a few alternative new year’s resolutions - ones you might actually have a chance of keeping.

I’m not the biggest fan of New Year’s resolutions. Most of them encourage you to give up something nice (food, booze, character-building couch time) or put an exhausting amount of effort into doing something nasty (does anyone actually enjoy going to the gym?). What’s more, they are officially virtually impossible to keep. A recent study of British resolution-makers concluded that only one in eleven of us stick to the goals we set ourselves on January 1st, and more than two thirds will cave before the end of that first month. 

I’m one of those people who can’t resolve to lose weight without getting an instant and insuppressible urge for an iced bun. Will power, in my book, is something that happens to other people. If you’re similarly short in the self-control department, here are a few resolutions that will transform your time in the hills with minimum deprivation and discomfort. 

1. I will…. learn how to actually use a compass

Not everybody can claim to be so spectacularly bad at navigation that they once walked up the wrong mountain, but that dubious distinction is mine. It was last January, the weather was gopping, and I’d been wandering in the fog for a few hours when the clouds parted and I found myself on top of St Sunday Crag. All very nice - apart from the fact that I’d actually been aiming for the summit of Helvellyn on the opposite side of the Grisedale valley.

You laugh, yes, but under different circumstances that monumental navigational cock-up could have been disastrous. That’s why I’ll be fishing my compass out of the mouldy rucksack pocket it usually languishes in and giving it some serious action this year. If, like me, your knowledge of navigation barely extends beyond taking a bearing, a specialist course could offer a life-saving chance to brush up on those skills.

2. I won’t… be a mountain loner 

No matter how hard I try to convince my mates that the hills are fabulous, exciting places to hang out, they persist in their belief that a trip away without a hair dryer is akin to climbing K2 in Crocs. After years of tramping the hills alone or in a twosome, I’ve decided that 2015 is the year I ditch my old friends (sorry guys) and get some mountain-savvy new ones.

Why not join me in signing up to your local mountaineering club? And hey, if you’re a hillwalking fanatic who knows how to use a JetBoil and won’t throw a hissy fit when the rain makes your mascara run, there’s a BFF position wide open over here.  

3. I will…. climb more mountains ending with ‘ach’

Ever noticed how Scotland’s most bucket-listed peaks all end with an exclamation? Am Bodach, Liathach, An Teallach - and so on. There’s probably some perfectly reasonable Gaelic explanation for this, but for me it’s always represented the wordless sigh of knee-knocking awe that these mighty mountains inspire. 

It’s hard for those of us who languish in the contour-deficient south of the country to make it up to Scotland regularly. My forays into the hills usually revolve around the Peak District and Snowdonia, but this year I’ll be making a conscious effort to spend more time north of the border with the aim of bagging those incredible ‘achs’. If I can learn to actually pronounce them at the same time, so much the better.

4. I will…. brave a night in a bothy

Why has nobody made a horror film set in a Scottish bothy? You can just picture the scene: lonely mountain hut smelling faintly of urine and stale beer, green glass bottles rolling around the hearth, leaking roof, psychotic killer skulking in the shadows…

Seriously though, bothying scares me - and not just because you could end up bunking down with Freddy Krueger. What if you set off without a tent and then can’t pinpoint the place you’re supposed to be staying? What if it’s locked? What if all the bunks are full, or the place is packed with 18-year-old heavy metal fans? On the other hand, the idea of a lightweight backpacking weekend with the possibility of a fire and a real (if hard) bed massively appeals. The Mountain Bothies Association is an awesome source of information for bothying virgins, and a quick perusal of their website helps to dispel any Cabin in the Woods concerns.

5. I will….part with the world’s oldest waterproof

The seams are going, it leaks around the shoulders, it’s a distressing shade of highlighter pink - and yet I just can’t bear to let it go. Every time I brush up the courage to research the latest models, sentences like ‘added PU smear’ and ’10,000mm of hydrostatic head’ send me gibbering right back to that ancient but familiar Berghaus.

Enough’s enough though - in 2015, I’m finally going to pin down the difference between eVent and Gore-Tex and find myself a jacket that isn’t from circa 1999. Then it’s just a case of ditching the ankle-swinging waterproof trousers and the Scout camp-era Trangia inherited from Grandpa Joe, and my mountain makeover will be complete.

And remember, when you ditch your old gear it doesn't have to head for the trash: give it a second life instead by sending it to Recycle Outdoor Gear, Green Peak Gear or Gift Your Gear.

Got any alternative resolutions that relate vaguely to the mountains? Do share - I'm already collecting ideas for next year. 

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From weekly Facebook Lives and GB Climbing home training videos, to our access team working to re-open the crags and fight for your mountain access, we couldn’t do it without you.

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