Tuesday, January 19, 2010

at a snails pace

I am tired. Yesterday I woke up at 4:15AM with Kohen (mind you, ‘waking up’ to me is telling Abby that Kohen is up and he is interrupting my sleep), out of bed at 4:50, made bottles for K and C, gave them to Abby, got dressed and headed over to Sky Fitness (www.skyfitaz.com) and was greeted by what appears to be a lovely person, my trainer Heather. But don’t be fooled, there is nothing lovely about a woman who asks you if you are wearing a crop top because your XL workout shirt is coming up and your gut is sticking out. Yet, I digress. Heather is exactly who I need to get me back in shape. None of my jokes work, and there is only so much cool you can pull off when you are about to pass out. She’ll see this to the end, or see me to my next life, which is a weird level of comfort and disturbance for me.

If I were to be brutally honest with myself, which is the purpose of DUNK, I am selfish and self centered (I’m writing a blog, about myself, I mean come on). I have always believed in myself but never followed that belief up with the virtues of hard work. It’s seems odd that I would find myself deciding now to go through this, because after all – what I am saying to my family is: “Hey Abby, I know we have two 7 month olds, but can I work out 6 days a week, so that I might be able to recapture some athletic ability and dunk a basketball. Good luck with those poopy diapers, I’ll be at the gym.” But the thing is – I couldn’t have started this and kept what has been constant motivation without my twins. Come on, I know I am a jerk, but I have to be, right? My parents and family have been sold the Kool Aid so much by me that they just nod now, and I can’t blame them. Right now I have to be a jerk to follow through on this one.

So far, the biggest accomplishments of my life are: one, married an unreal woman, who saw something in me that I still can’t figure out what it is, and two, we have two amazing little babies who I love so much, that I often find myself comparing them to Einstein when they pick up their binkies off the blanket and put them back in their mouths. That’s it, right there, not even a number 3. All of my other accomplishments fall somewhere between “Who gives a shit?” and “A Monkey could do that”.

So what am I saying in all of this? Drink the Kool Aid people, Senior Fats is down 10 pounds and picking up momentum.

1 comment:

  1. Hard work, discipline, and patience are the bedrock of an American drive to achievement that finds it's domain in the fiction section at Borders. Go get some juice. Go get some HGH. Go get some equine fertility hormones. You'll be dunking by Valentines day, and you might as well drape yourself in the flag while you do so, as that is the true American way.