Old Me, New Year

She flicks a red-hot revelation off the tip of her tonge.

Chance would have it, that 52 weeks ago I closed 2024 for The Active Edge with New Year, Old Me. Throughout 2025, Ronny Wilson, Yasmin Spence, Nicole Wells and myself have tried to consistently write about various aspects of human health and performance, to share our thoughts and opinions, research and experience, to provide some value to whoever stumbles across our content in the hope that we can educate and provoke thought to how we pursue our health and performance goals. And, now, because four divides into 52, I get the fortune of closing out 2025 as well.

Last year, I wrote that despite the ‘New Year, New Me’ type of trends floating around, my goal for 2025 was to restore a previous version of myself. For context, I spent four years gradually heading towards burnout and by 2024 I was well and truly cooked.

The idea was simple: instead of adding more personal development on top of an already teetering Jenga tower, I wanted to redevelop dormant parts of myself, and restabilise that tower. However, this was no quick move, as this tower has a calendar, a to-do list, and opinions.

Last year, I never explicitly listed the exact components I wanted to work on through 2025. Some of them I kept intentionally vague. Some I kept entirely to myself.

However, I did mention balance. Not colour-coded mornings and magnesium-rich evenings. Actual balance that acknowledges that complexity exists whether you invite it or not. That doomscrolling with my brain is inevitable, and that scrutinising myself for doing it achieves nothing but a bad mood and a very late bedtime. So I worked on this. I started accepting more of the traits that social media had me believe are ‘toxic’ and started to embrace them and craft the tools at my disposal to make them less detrimental to days. I brought back that component within me and was able to re-embrace complexity with curiosity rather than dread. That was a big one.

I also spoke about restoring my capacity. I speak about capacity, in general, quite a lot (as regular readers are aware). Well, I think I have done this. And, I believe it’s going to keep growing throughout 2026, too.

Academically, a chapter closed. I achieved this by completing my Masters Degree. And whilst I was up to old tricks in leaving an impossible amount of time to complete my dissertation, I got a mark I was ecstatic with and was rewarded for my hard work. Of course, this has freed up some capacity.

However, the achievement itself isn’t all that important, but the shift it caused. Finishing didn’t create emptiness, it created direction. Whereas 2024 Shane would have seen an emptiness. By studying business, and combining these learnings with my passion and values, a deeper interest in public health emerged. Specifically, in health economics and in decision making. I went on to engage in more formal education in public health economics, and therefore another door for curiosity has been opened, and perhaps more.

Physically, the year began humbly. I started the year with the lowest physical capacity, and the least confidence in the capability of my body, probably ever. I started by having to build from a run-walk plan. I’ve closed the year by running a 78 mile week, feeling full of energy, including a 21 mile trail-run with my mate in the Peak District. Throughout this journey I fully embraced that first run I was able to do with my mates. I welcomed the discomfort of racing a mile, and laughed at some of my ‘thresholds’ in structure sessions. It’s been a proper good year of progression, now that I type this out on a screen.

I’ve achieved much more this year that’s important to me, that I don’t bore you with. All the usual life-stuff. I’ve lost a granddad. I’ve struggled with business. I’ve got a bloody rat in my kitchen! But I’ve also gained someone to love. I’ve had so many more lie-ins. And I’ve got my humane rat-trap being delivered tomorrow. What a year!

Of course, there are lessons on health and performance here, because they’re everywhere. However, that’s not the aim of this post. The aim was for it to be a bit of a wrap, and a selfish revisit to how we ended last year.

Many of us would have had an exceptional year, unfortunately many of us will have had an awful year. But the years keep on going, and we go with them. Keep supporting those you can, and ask for support from those who can provide it.

Stay critical. Stay curious.

Happy New Year.

Love Shane xox.

P.S. Once again, I want to take a moment to thank you for reading some, or even all of our work this year. Whether you’re a new subscriber, a long-term reader, or someone who knows any of us personally, any time you spend engaging with what we write is incredibly appreciated. We don’t take that lightly, and we’re grateful you chose to give us your attention.

Especially now, when short-form content dominates, many of us still exist outside the constant churn of social media trends. We’re not always cohesive with, or receptive to, content rewarded for speed over substance. We’re not built for the algorithm. We don’t aspire to be. If you’ve made it past two paragraphs of anything we’ve written, congratulations - you’ve officially beaten the 1-second attention economy. We appreciate you. (And for those of you who didn’t: f*** you. I can say that because you won’t have made it this far anyway.)

This is exactly why Ron and I champion platforms like Substack. We think value is built through depth rather than immediacy and understand that what we offer is better suited to people who are curious and engaged - those interested in critical thinking. We want to keep providing content that teaches you something, challenges you, confirms what you already believe, or annoys you just enough to make you think harder. Not something you scroll past instantly, or something that quietly robs two hours of your day through doomscrolling.

And let’s be honest: endless scrolling is making us dumber. It suffocates curiosity, and provokes dopamine to form opinions we didn’t even choose.

So if our work has resonated with you at any point this year, we ask, nay beg, that you share it, talk about it, and keep on supporting platforms that still value long-form writing. This space is something we want to grow within, and something we can keep building together, despite living on opposite sides of the world.

And so we want to hear from you. What do you want us to write about next year? Maybe it’s something we already know well. Maybe it’s something we don’t, but should. Either way, we’re keen to sink our research teeth into it and keep on exploring.

Thanks for sticking with us this year. You’re the reason this exists.