Resisting the January urge to revolutionise everything

I've been doing a lot of ‘getting-ready-to-do-stuff’ stuff lately.

You might know what I mean: browsing online for the perfect running base layer – the green version of the one I bought in white back in October, but haven't actually worn yet. Reading running blogs. Listening to podcasts. Booking conferences. Always looking for that one thing that might reveal the next level.

And then I caught myself.

The trap of the new

Over Christmas, I was listening to a podcast by an ultra-runner who also coaches. She talked about just getting on with the work, putting in the hard miles. And I realised something: I have everything I need to be a better financial adviser. I've got the clients, the software, brilliant people working with me. Yet I still find myself at conferences thinking there might be something there I'm missing.

It's the same with running. I started because it was simple – put on trainers, go out the door. No gym membership, no court bookings, no kit required. And yet somehow I've got caught up in the "you need to change your trainers every 600 miles" stuff. Who says that? Funnily enough, the people selling the trainers.

Do we really need another pair of trainers on this planet? Same as last winter, just a different colour?

Something incredibly simple gets overcomplicated by people trying to sell you things.

What if you already have everything you need?

This time of year, we're bombarded with messages about reform and reinvention, whether it’s health and fitness related (‘New year, new you’) or investment related (‘These are the top 10 funds for 2026’). There are so many ‘must-have’ investment opportunities being bandied about at this time of year – a wealth of prediction articles that ridicule last year's forecasts while making equally silly ones for the year ahead.

But are any of them meaningful?

When the FTSE broke through 10,000 for the first time this January, suddenly everyone was talking about how everything must be alright, and how the Chancellor's doing a brilliant job. But nothing had actually changed. The FTSE 100 largely reflects global business activity because most of its companies earn a large share of their revenues overseas – this is what they were doing before and after the first trading day of the year. If it had been at 8,000, would it even have made the news?

We've been away over Christmas. And guess what? Nothing has really changed.

The message is still: stick to the plan.

Chasing feels right. Standing still feels lazy

Admittedly there's something counterintuitive about this. We're taught to chase – the new running top, the hot investment tip, the next conference that might have the answer. Non-action feels lazy, doesn't it? Chasing that hot tip or the latest stock pick feels like progress, like you're doing something.

But what if the answer isn't in the new?

I don't go running to look good. I go to be outside, to look over the hedges, to not think about stuff for a while. New trainers don't help with that. And all these people telling you about the latest investment idea or must-buy stock? They don't know you. They're just trying to sell you something.

What we learn young, we carry long

I watched a film recently called The Life of Chuck. There's a scene where Tom Hiddleston's character is completely free, lost in the flow while dancing. The film links this back to his childhood, and it got me thinking about how many of our current habits trace back to those early years.

How we learn our lessons about money so early in life and hang onto them for 50, 60, 70 years. When people think about what to do in retirement, they often go back to what they enjoyed at school.

I look at my diary and it reveals things. I've got a ukulele I haven't touched in four or five years. A colouring book gathering dust. But I've made time for several 300-page books.

I tell clients: look at your bank statement. Which entries make you smile? Which don't? Dump the ones you don't enjoy, and your life would probably be better.

Refinement, not revolution

By this time next year, I will have... what?

A client recently agreed that by this time next year she'll have achieved x, y, z. Big goals. Transformative plans.

But maybe my "by this time next year" should be simpler. Like actually not working Fridays. For about the last year, my diary has said "protected time" on Fridays. And I've still worked.

I'm going to have a go at that. And I'll relocate the office from Amersham to Aylesbury. Harmless things to achieve, really. No one will probably even notice the Friday thing.

But perhaps that's the point. Not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Not chasing the new, shiny thing.

Just refining what already works.

Keep showing up

If we keep showing up, we're already better than 90% of people who don't. The work isn't in finding something new. It's in refining, tweaking. Getting a bit better at what you're already doing.

Your financial plan is like that. You've probably got everything you need already in place. The temptation is to chase the latest hot tip, the newest strategy, the complete overhaul.

But what if it's not about that? What if it's about not getting distracted?

We have everything we need in the plan. The rest is just refinement.

And maybe not buying another base layer you won't wear.

What would you refine this year rather than revolutionise? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a Friday to protect 😁.