Of Fishing Poles and Carrots

I’m 36.

I have never been in what you might call “good shape.”

I wrestled with what could be described as something of an eating disorder when I was younger, into my mid-20’s. I was a touch under 160 pounds at about 6’3” at the best/worst depending on which perspective you want to take.

Things, to say the least, haven’t improved, and I’m now what feels distinctly fat and out of shape at 230 and climbing slowly but surely.

So here goes… taking a stab at the Couch-to-5k exercise, but doing more like a Couch-to-10k. I’ve got until a semi-target date of May 6^th, and if I happen to lose weight at the same time, all the better, but I’m not counting on it.

The people who don’t read this blog will certainly find the tales of missed training and procrastination RIVETING. Stay tuned, as my first .75 miles of molasses-like fury are being unleashed this evening. I don’t have high hopes, given my history of semi-engagement with these projects.

I drink more than I probably should, and have been known to indulge in cigarettes in the past. Time feels like it’s wasting to get a miraculous turnaround in before real decrepitude sets in. Currently, the pipe dream is to run the North Face 10k adventure run at Bear Mountain in early May. Barring that, maybe I’ll just go and run it on the same trails with no support if I’m not ready that soon.

Longer goal is that I’d like to be fit enough to run from my door, to the top of the local high point (Mt. Beacon) and back by late summer without coughing out my lungs and/or dying.

Pray for mojo.