Yesterday, I started a diet. I am forty two years old, 5’8″ and I weigh 153 lbs. I’m trying to lose some weight because I want to get faster. I’m pretty fast right now but I want to get faster than any other plus 40 guy that just might be thinking about signing up for a particular road race in December. Not going to mention the race name here because although I like competition, I don’t like really good competition. Figure if I keep it on the D-low, I won’t have so many bodies to pass.
Look, I know I should have better goals as a father of two, husband of one and lifelong “wondering what I’ll do next” kind of guy but I can’t seem to come up with any. This New Year, in a fit of seriousness, I tried to come up with a five year plan. I also wrote down what my resolutions for the year were. Every once in a while, I break out the list and look at it. I’m doing pretty good with some of them, not so good with others. The one that I’m struggling with most, the one that always causes me problems is making money. I don’t make much of it. Sure, “work hard do something you love” that’s good advice but for me the dollars haven’t been there. The satisfaction on the financial side of things is lacking. This is partly my fault and partly the reality of the business I’m in. Unless you own something in television, you’re not going to make a whole lot of money. As far as the five year plan is concerned, I couldn’t think of anything I was really sure I wanted to be doing other than living with my wife and kids and exercising alot so I put that on the shelf.
About two years ago, I kind of gave up on dreaming that I would make big kind of money. Well, the truth is, I paid lip service to wanting a lot of money but I never really felt a hunger for it. Not the way I feel a hunger for burying the geek with no shirt on running right ahead of me. Or willing my body over the last mile while my metabollic system threatens to collapse, my heart hits a near fatal rate and my family cringes at the horror of me struggling to the bitter end. So, I’ve chosen to lose a few pounds. Nothing major, just tidy things up around the waist, eat no chips for a couple of months and cut the binging down.
That’s the goal. At forty two, my legs aren’t going to turn over much faster. The only thing to do if I want to get faster is get lighter. That’s what I’m going for, this is what’s important to me.