My stomach was touching my desk.
Getting settled for work, I scoot my chair in and feel the edge of the desk touching my belly. The fact that the work "belly" must be used in this instance is startling enough. Looking down there is easily two inches of clearance between the fine, dark finished wood of the desk and the rest of the my torso.
After being in Houston for the past six months, I should not be surprised with this development. During this time period I have eaten more beef than I have consumed the past nine years I have been gone. Combine this with a lack of actual exercise, or any physical exertion, and my little friend hanging around my mid-section is the result.
It is too early in life for my mind to be comfortable with the slow, slide into the perfect Alfred Hitchcock figure. (I would also need to lose my hair and thankfully that hasn't happened yet.) While there is still time I want to push my body to be at a physical level it has ever been at before.
Gym culture does not provide a feedback loop that encourages sustained improvement. If I am serious about taking myself to the next level then simply relying on the Bally's of the world will not do. On the other hand, the half-marathons I have participated in were elating experiences. From start to finish encouragement abounded; from the people that would cheer you on to the other runners that you knew you could get ahead of.
Running is my least favorite "sport" though. Motivating myself to run over 26 miles would require I little more effort.
What if you went for a swim and the rode a bike first?
Perfect. And insane. But I have never claimed to be of a fully sound mind.
Thus the journey begins. The goal is to complete a full triathlon 12 months from now.
