JAN 1, 2010 – 12:00AM

I’ve never been a big fan of new year’s resolutions.

I’m all for personal goals, but I figure anybody who waits to flip the page on the calendar before doing something that he or she wants to do — or stop doing — is destined for failure.

That said, I understand the urge this time of year to make promises to better oneself.

I don’t smoke (anymore), I don’t drink (much) and I’ve conquered my online Lolcat addiction (as far as you know), so I’ve got a handle on the most obvious of my previous means of self-destruction (or at least learned how to cover my tracks online).

But I do have a couple of bike-related goals for the upcoming year that should lead to self-betterment, or at least self-enjoyment. (Did that come out wrong?)

So … here’s a look at a few of my two-wheeled nonresolutions for the upcoming 365:

Bike Across Kansas: I’ve wanted to partake in the weeklong ride across the state for years, and though I’m sure I won’t have a problem with the mileage, I’ve been hesitant to spend so much time away from the family. But, quite frankly, I’m sick of my immediate relations. A week away should do me good.

Don’t be such a wimp: I don’t mean in life, because I’m one tough hombre. I mean on my bike rides around town. There were probably a dozen or so times I could have ridden to work, but opted not to, usually because of the threat of impending thunderstorms or frostbite or, as was the case Thursday night/Friday morning, the fear some beery nimrod would ruin my 2010 before it really began (although I’m happy to say I rode earlier Thursday evening so I could pedal in the glow of the lovely blue moon).

Don’t be so stubborn: I have to admit, sometimes I’ll do things on my bike — like maintain my position rather than yield to an approaching vehicle, have the audacity to take my turn at a four-way stop, or just ride when conditions suggest maybe I shouldn’t — out of simple stubbornness. Just because I have a right to be there or do that doesn’t mean I should.

Don’t be such a jerk: Again, not in life. I’m rather proud of my curmudgeonly charm, and if you don’t, well, $%* you. Here, I’m talking on my bike. Too frequently, when somebody buzzes me or nearly forces me off the road or cuts me off, my first response is not suitable for a family blog. As enjoyable as I find the vast majority of the time on my bike, I shouldn’t let them be overwhelmed by those few instances of near-death experiences. Besides, repercussions from a dimwit in a cage can be severe. I’d sure hate to be maimed because I couldn’t swallow an F-bomb.

Don’t objectify: Because I don’t know everybody in this town, I have this habit of referring, at least in my own woefully inadequate brain, to fellow road-users by identifying characteristics: “What are you waiting for, Blondie?”; “Did you mean to just about hit me, Mr. Cell Phone-Stuck-To-Your-Head, or was your phone call really that important?”; or “Nice minivan, Ms. Soccer Mom. Next time, please don’t bring it to such an abrupt halt just because you see a nice man on a bike gaining on you.” I know in my curmudgeonly heart of hearts all those people have their own hopes, dreams and aspirations, too, and aren’t just subjects of ridicule. Most of ’em, anyway.

Anyway, those are my goals.

Happy New Year.