Catching Up - Physical

Without a doubt, Thursday through Sunday of last week were the 4 most physically demanding consecutive days I've had in a long time. There was so much baseball-golf-football Thursday through Saturday that I was barely able to get my arm above my waist before playing 3 hours of baseball on Sunday. I was borderline tears after making a throw from right field to home. (Ok, so the throw never made it home, but if I say I was borderline tears after making a throw from RF to the second baseman I sound like more of a baby than I am.)

I came to several realizations: (1) tossing football with the guys is a great time, (2) playing golf can be fun even when I suck so bad, (3) my complexion looks quite alot like that of a lobster when I spend 4 consecutive days in the sun without any protection, (4) guys can bond over sports even better than I previously thought, and (5) Jeff Warnock is completely unafraid to go across a dog poop covered public park while wearing his wedding tux to catch a football in the spirit of sport. But one final observation trumps all of the above:

To almost quote the great philosopher, Garth Brooks, "I'm much too young to feel this dang old." I'm not yet 25... give me a couple weeks, and if you happen to decide to buy me a birthday present, I'd be happy to accept this or this or this or even this. Anywho, I was feeling pretty good this time last year. So what's the difference one year later? Approximately 30 pounds. Man. That sounds so bad. I weigh 30 pounds more than I did 12 months ago. And I wasn't exactly a svelte 30 pounds less a year ago.

Desperate times call for desperate measures. The treadmill has been retrieved from my parents' basement, cobwebs removed from handlebars, put together in my basement, and (you'll never believe this) plugged in. Although I think I could run 15 miles a day and not lose weight if I keep on this seafood diet. You know, see food and eat it. Thanks, you've been a wonderful audience, I'll be here all week.