Running in the wee early hours on some road in Arizona
Four Years! Four long years. In May of 2012 I was 198 pounds, well on my way to cementing some middle age health problems and drifting through life will little purpose or desire to give a shit. I changed. I changed big and if you care about that you can dig through the past posts on this site, all 99 of them. But this is post 100 and it's time to get over the idea that I've made some big change, stop writing about what I hope will happen and take stock of where I'm at right now. Be super Zen and present in the moment.
I've accomplished all these crazy things I would have once thought impossible. Lost 55 pounds, became an athlete, ran the Boston Marathon, became actually interested in my life, hung out with super awesome people, found purpose. My life has been one of those tacky inspirational photos with words pasted on it on Instagram. I'm done with it all. It's time to accept it as the norm and either coast along, regress or find new challenges.
Whatever ultimately happens I'm happy with the journey. I accept myself so much more now that I've learned concretely that I'm in control of my destiny. Fate is a sham, one you're sold by people trying to get you to live quietly. No you can't control everything, but you can die trying. And why not, what is worse than just simply existing with your burger, beer and all night "Netflix and Chill?"
Today I'm contemplating a new exciting project for this site, kind of a vegan version of "Super Size Me." I'm also nursing a severely messed up foot that I've been impatient to let heal. Ego got the best of me. But I'm confident knowing that there is little that can stop me from relentless stubborn progress. The sort of progress you think may be impossible. You know, the kind that says you can't lose that weight, can't become a runner, can't eat better, can't spend more time living and less time working.
And so it's perfect timing. The plan is to regress on purpose for the next month or so, then to kick ass and return to form. To show myself and whoever might stumble upon this website that it can be done, can be done repeatedly and just requires the desire.
I've accomplished all these crazy things I would have once thought impossible. Lost 55 pounds, became an athlete, ran the Boston Marathon, became actually interested in my life, hung out with super awesome people, found purpose. My life has been one of those tacky inspirational photos with words pasted on it on Instagram. I'm done with it all. It's time to accept it as the norm and either coast along, regress or find new challenges.
Whatever ultimately happens I'm happy with the journey. I accept myself so much more now that I've learned concretely that I'm in control of my destiny. Fate is a sham, one you're sold by people trying to get you to live quietly. No you can't control everything, but you can die trying. And why not, what is worse than just simply existing with your burger, beer and all night "Netflix and Chill?"
Today I'm contemplating a new exciting project for this site, kind of a vegan version of "Super Size Me." I'm also nursing a severely messed up foot that I've been impatient to let heal. Ego got the best of me. But I'm confident knowing that there is little that can stop me from relentless stubborn progress. The sort of progress you think may be impossible. You know, the kind that says you can't lose that weight, can't become a runner, can't eat better, can't spend more time living and less time working.
And so it's perfect timing. The plan is to regress on purpose for the next month or so, then to kick ass and return to form. To show myself and whoever might stumble upon this website that it can be done, can be done repeatedly and just requires the desire.
Dug up another picture of the old me. I was happy here, probably drunk, it was my 20th high school reunion. 2010, not quite at my peak weight yet so didn't look too bad.
Running some race, the new life.
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