I realize that I am no spring chicken. As I have reached the age of 45, with 46 coming ahead like a toll stop on the New York State Thruway, I’d say I am one rooster who has been through a few harsh winters. However, I have also once again come to the harsh realization that there is something that is holding me down more than my age. It’s my weight.
I am really not sure what it is that has made me take stock, once again, of my obesity and lack of fitness. It could be that I have seen several friends and colleagues not much older than me pass away in the last year. While that is a valid motivator, I probably should be more honest. The truth is my daughter is engaged to be married next summer. Her fiancé is of Scottish decent. This means they are planning a traditional Scottish wedding. This further means that Yours Truly will be walking my beautiful daughter down the aisle…in a kilt. It may be vain of me. I would just prefer to be more fit (and look more fit) as I escort my daughter at an outdoor wedding.
There is also another reason other than the issue of my self image about my appearance. The other factor in this matter is that I am sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. I am tried of going to the taco place by myself and ordering 10 tacos and a steak flatbread sandwich and being asked: “Is that for here or to go?” I realize that the otherwise very kind attendant is most likely just following a rote procedure but it’s hard not to be insulted by that.
Due to my work schedule combined with some college classes that I am taking, I realized that time management was a factor in making this change. It seemed difficult at best to me to making regular trips to the gym around an already demanding weekly schedule. Because of this, I invested in some equipment for exercise (kettle bell weights and a stability ball). I also invested in some DVD that would help me put these items to their most effective use. My start into this routine was briefly sidelined by a shoulder injury while I was waited for said fitness items to be shipped to my house. The irony was not lost on me.
As I nursed my shoulder injury, I reviewed the DVD’s I bought. I kept hearing words like target weight and target heart rate. I find this obsession with targets a bit worrisome. I realize that target weight is a goal. Still, speaking of targets is tough for someone who has never been good at darts or archery. My sons still won’t come near me with an apple. Once bitten, twice shy they keep telling me.
My shoulder started to get into a place of healing where it was safe and reasonable to begin using the equipment. This meant I also had to use three other important items to help me work toward my goal: a scale, a marker, and a calendar. I got on the scale and my weight was literally flashing before my eyes. Seeing this value wasn’t as hard as writing it on the calendar with my marker – 285 lbs. The only thought this figure could put into my head was that I was presently as large as the perimeter of Atlanta. I guess it’s better than taking GA – 400.
