Has my weekly self-analysis helped avert the worst of middle age? | Romesh Ranganathan

For two years, I’ve been on the road to self-improvement. Now I’m gazing at my navel one final time, and this is what I’ve learned

Welcome to my final Weekend column, guys. I was debating how emotional to get on this one. I have spent the last couple of days listening to Kanye West’s new album, so I am in quite a depressive mood. This column is my Donda.

Two years ago, I was tasked with writing in this slot. And every week I smashed out 600 words for your delectation, all about my ongoing road to self-improvement. There was the aim to spend less time on my phone, which has worked so effectively that I have already checked it twice since starting this article. There was learning how to DJ, which hasn’t progressed at all – and now I have a gig in October where I am expected to mix (I might end up being the first DJ outed for miming). And of course who could forget the year of weight loss and fitness training that led to a set of before and after photos that were essentially identical? That was the initial remit, at least. Some weeks, I would have a fully formed idea drop into my head, I would sit at my laptop for 45 minutes or so, and it would be done, and I would be happy. Other weeks, I would agonise over it, adding a sentence at a time, before eventually sending in a column with a covering apology and an offer to rewrite it completely.

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