Quitters’ Day shouldn’t just be once a year – the nation needs a break every now and again

So that’s it, then. Dreams of ourselves living our fitter, happier, healthier best lives are now lying crumpled in the bin along with the burger wrappers and empty wine bottles.

Sunday was apparently National Quitters’ Day, the date when their statistics show that our collective willpower finally runs out of steam and we give up on our new year's resolutions. When chaps would retire to the sofa with a six-pack of lager and a box set, and women would look at the Peloton bike her partner lovingly sent from Santa less than a month ago, and wonder if it could be cited in the divorce.

The conclusion, made by fitness tracking app Strava, is based on number-crunching the activity of its community of athletes – a community I suspect does not include middle-aged women who have to be helped off the treadmill after a 30-minute cardio class – but I reckon their findings are pretty universal, regardless.

The tail end of January is when the motivation for anything we promised ourselves on New Year’s Eve starts to lose its appeal, and the excuses kick in. You ran through dog shit on a terrible jog and now your trainers are ruined because you left them stinking on the front step and it rained and anyway that ballet barre class you went to didn’t lead to a solo with the Royal Ballet, so what’s the point?

I rather like the idea of Quitters’ Day. Wouldn’t it be great if just for 24 hours, the entire country went into complete slob mode; when all you could hear was the pulling of corks, rustle of crisp packets and yack of tellies. Instead of pushing ourselves, we’d all be encouraged to eat biscuits and do a jigsaw, watch a black-and-white musical or draw a nice picture. A sort of National Duvet Day, when the whole nation was allowed to stop trying so hard, and anyone caught doing more than a leisurely stroll through the park would be sent home to chill the fuck out.

The supermarkets would have a field day, with people queuing up for Quitters’ Day burgers and family-sized trifles for one; while the wellness industry would be on the bandwagon like a shot, flogging Quitters’ Day candles and “do nothing, live longer” essential oils.

In fact, I think the whole country would be in better nick if we had Quitters’ Days every six weeks or so. Because if we were allowed the occasional day to thoroughly let things go, if it were part of the programme, I think we’d find getting back in the saddle much easier. One of the hardest things about any health and fitness regime is falling off the wagon and finding the motivation to get back on. So many of us have that self-destruct button that we can’t help pressing; the inner voice that tells us, “I knew you’d fail.”

We also crave instant gratification. Almost three weeks into the New Year, we can’t stand the fact that when we look in the mirror, the same mashed-potato body has the cheek to look back at us – so we give up.

Strava’s tips on pushing through Quitters’ Day include exercising with a friend. I’m not sure this has done wonders for me: when I used to go swimming with a friend, we never even managed to put our heads in the water, we were too busy chatting; we might as well have taken our knitting in with us.

Another of Strava’s tips is aiming for three exercise sessions a week, rather than two. If I ever do this, I’m not motivated by my health, but by money (a streak of northern meanness works wonders for me). If I don’t go to my gym at least twice a week, I’m not getting my money’s worth; the week I managed to get four sessions in, I felt like I’d made a few bob.

Their other trick is to keep it interesting. I’m easily bored; I once forgot my headphones and lasted all of three minutes on an exercise bike. For me, it’s got to be a mix of stuff I find tough, like cardio, and classes I enjoy, which mostly involve rolling around on a mat like a giant porpoise.

As for Quitters’ Day on Sunday, I thoroughly enjoyed not doing anything whatsoever. Because quitting doesn’t have to mean quitting forever, it can just mean having a day off. Who’s to say you can’t start again tomorrow?