And So It Begins

Welcome to my blog, “Fighting the 40’s”.  I guess the first question I should answer is why am I doing this?  Why would I choose to share information about my life in a public forum?  Maybe the better question is why would anyone care to read about it?  The truth is I don’t know if anyone will care to read what I am posting.  I’ll answer “why” in a bit.

I don’t believe my story is unique in any way or that I am different than anyone else.  I’m a 42-year old, middle-class family man with a wife, three daughters, two dogs, two cats, a mortgage, a job and all of the craziness that comes with along with it.  I’m not complaining.  I chose this life. 

Like millions of parents in this country, my days are filled with dropping my kids off at school and then going to work, sitting behind a computer at a desk all day, making my way home in the late afternoon or early evening to eat a quick meal, taking the kids to whatever practice they have that night, and finally arriving back at the house sometime after 8pm to try and catch up on the day with my wife and sit in front of the TV before going to bed and waking up to do it all over again.  Some weekends are filled with kids’ activities, others are not.  The weekends not filled with kids activities are usually spent recovering from the ones that were.  In full disclosure, my wife performs the same routine each day, and we do our best to divide and conquer in the evenings.  I’m certainly not “in this” alone.

Again, I’m not complaining, I chose this.

I am complaining about this…. I’m 42 years old, and I’m 45 pounds (or so) over weight.  As I said, I’m complaining, but not blaming anyone.

Over the course of the last few weeks, I decided I have had enough of not taking care of myself physically.  Its effects are far reaching, and while I don’t believe I am in bad health, it does affect my mood, how I feel physically, how I interact with other people including my family, and my self-confidence.  

I’ve been an athlete my whole life, until the last two-years in which I haven’t competed in anything.  And if I’m honest with myself, I haven’t competed at the levels I’m capable of for the last ten years or more because I’ve let myself go. 

Shit, I’m only 42!  I refuse to let a number based on the date stamped on a birth certificate dictate what I am capable of.  I think my mind is right.  I want to compete and be an athlete.  I still have that desire and drive.  But I’ve let this life I’ve chose become an excuse when it shouldn’t be and the result is 45 pounds.

So I began to create a list of goals for myself, in the form of events that I want to participate in beginning next spring.  Bike events.  Run events.  Adventure races.  I do know that I need goals and events on a calendar. 

And then I had the idea to write this blog.

My thinking is that if I write about this process I am embarking on and share my experiences, then I am accountable.  One thing I have proven to myself over the years is that I need to be held accountable to something.  Anything!  Maybe some people will follow this blog, maybe not.  If you have read this far and chose to follow my blog, I thank you.  I would only ask that you allow me to be accountable to you, and that you might utter an occasional “good job” when if you think it is deserved, and provide a swift kick in my ass when I need it.

So, that is "why" I'm writing this.  I need to talk about working out, and what I am eating, because if I am accountable at least to writing about it, well that's better than nothing.

And so it begins.  1 November 2011.  42-years old, 45 (‘ish) pounds over-weight.  Fighting the 40's.