I’m not going to dress this up.
Right now, I feel like shit. I’m tired all the time. I’m carrying more weight than I ever have. I’ve got two bikes, a rowing machine, and not a single habit of movement. Even walking has become a memory.
I eat crap. I sleep tethered to a CPAP machine. I take diabetes medication every day and wonder how much damage I’ve done… again.
I’m 56 now. And weirdly, this feels a lot like 42.
But here’s the thing: I remember what it felt like to climb out of that hole last time. I remember the day I decided I wasn’t going to be Mr Fat Guy anymore. The first walk. The runs that followed. The spark of momentum. The lightness that wasn’t just about weight.
That version of me still exists. He’s just buried under fatigue, frustration, and a life that’s crept out of alignment.
I don’t know exactly how I’m going to get back. But I know I’m not giving up.
So here it is. My line in the sand. Not a big announcement. Not a comeback. Just a quiet reset. A gentle return.
10 minutes of movement a day.
One better meal.
A bit of stillness.
One step at a time.
This blog has always been my place to tell the truth. So here it is: I’m struggling. But I’ve started.
If you’re here and you’re in a similar place, know that you’re not alone.
This is the beginning. Again (for the millionth time).