Today, I turned 39 and I’m eating cake. Tomorrow, I’m embarking on a year-long journey to be in the best shape of my life by the time I am 40. Yikes. I’m “saying” it out loud.
There is just something about 40 that incites fear…and loathing…and panic, but I figure I have (God willing) at least a much time ahead of me as I have left behind me, so I might as well spend it well.
For the past few years I have been struggling with my weight and with just feeling unhealthy. My body is definitely on the decline. I am sore and tired most of the time. My back aches. Anybody who knows me knows that I hate exercise. I can diet until the cows come home, but I really, really loathe breaking a sweat. To my dismay, I have been thinking recently that I really need to add it into my life, even if it’s just baby steps at first. I work in a building that houses a senior center and on a daily basis, I see seniors, some of them withered and barely moving, walking laps around the building to get exercise. Every day they faithfully appear, pushing walkers and limping along. I have this daily reminder that I really have no excuse.
If they can do it, I can do it. What’s wrong with me?
I’ve also been somewhat down in the dumps and I am fully blaming it on facebook and social media. I have a serious addiction and it has been impacting the way that I interact with my family. It also keeps me from doing anything productive. It really needs to go.
So, I have decided that this is going to be the year that I pull myself together. I am going to give myself one year to get into the best shape of my life…I’m not just talking about my physique. I feel like I need a total overhaul. I haven’t decided if I am going to document the journey as I go (maybe monthly?), or when the year is over…I guess we’ll see.
I am 39 and 40 is looking pretty good to me.