As the rain falls and cold winds blow in Boston, my daydream finds me, 5 days ahead of my here and now. Must push through another few days of work. Must fall asleep and get back up for one more week. Must drive north to Maine to celebrate the new year; indulging in what I’m sure will be way too many bottles of champagne; snapping far too many sloppy faced pictures of friends; dancing to songs and kissing as the ball drops. Must get to the new year. Must push through until January 1st.

As soon as we wake on January 1st I’ll be making my first trip (first of many, I hope) to the mountain. The mountain that in my family needs no proper name. Just the mountain. The mountain that holds all of my fondest childhood memories tight. The mountain that towers over the horizon, lit up at night by the groomers, embodying a magical presence in a small corner of Maine.

My family is Sugarloaf. They were there 50 years ago when the first group of rugged adventurers decided to cut down a few trails, they were there to found the golf course, to create the ski academy, and they are there now in memory, with charity tournaments, fundraisers, mountain roads and ski races all in their name.

Sugarloaf means everything to me. It brings me peace, happiness and the absolute greatest sense of pride. With stickers stuck on just about everything I own, I carry a piece of the mountain, and all the memories that come with it, everywhere.

The village, the people, the restaurants, the kindness, the community, the pride. I’m going back to the mountain this weekend and I have never looked forward to a trip more than this. This trip, this time… is special. It’s special because this year, is the start of the new me! Mwahaha, I know it, how exciting right? My new life, my journey to a happier place. That place of course – is my life – but what better way to start that journey than with a trip to the mountain. I’ve been gearing up for this change for almost a month. Getting ready to take off running January 1st. No more looking back.

I’ll officially kick off this journey by skiing down the largest mountain in the state, with a continuous vertical drop of nearly 3,000. The most peaceful, relaxed, “it’s just me and the world” kind of way I know. The views from the top, take my breath away, and the fun that is found in a weekend getaway unforgettable.

Cheers to the almost official start date of the awesome new me.