And I, fashionably a day late, am here as well.
But, let me do something odd.
Let me be frank and honest with all of you strangers on the internet:
I feel like shit.
Horrible. Lethargic. Near death.
This is what happens when a solid 14 hours of every day of every week of every month, for the last... I'm too scared to count how many years, is spent sitting in a chair, staring at a computer.
And what did I do in my free time?
I moved over to a couch to stare at a T.V.
To be clear: This is not anti-relaxation nor even anti-laziness.
This is anti-extremely-unhealthy.
I have done NOTHING for my health.
I ate like shit. Junk food, no food, bland food, gross food.
I thought like shit. No meditation, no exploration, no positive affirmation.
I moved like shit. Actually, correction: I hardly moved at all.
I have been in some ways blessed with a job that did not require manual labor from me. I thought this was cool. I could sit on my ass all day and never had to work up a sweat.
No stairs to climb. No commute to travel.
No movement that wasn't from my bed to my chair, and back again.
But, hey, I'm not fat! So everything is okay, right?
WRONG.
Let me tell you something about health: It doesn't work like they show in the movies.
You don't just "put on some pounds" when you eat like shit. You destroy yourself. You get sick.
You don't just "look scrawny" when you don't workout. You degrade your heart. You kill yourself.
This shit ain't fucking cute.
I'm sure most, hopefully all, of you realize this.
So, why am I typing this out?
Because, I need to realize it. I need to drill this into my head.
Honestly, I'm a bit scared. I worry that the damage is done, and there's no way back. I worry that a few weeks into this journey, I'm going to drop dead of a heart attack.
"Well, here's your problem... His heart, lungs, and muscles were all decayed to dust."
Am I going to be able to see the other end of this? I really don't know.
Am I being dramatic? Ha! Maybe. Hopefully, even! It just freaks me out when I struggle to catch my breath, and feel on the verge of passing out, after doing 10 jumping jacks.
By the way, I'm not being silly here. I mean that. No exaggeration. I did 10 jumping jacks today and had to take a seat, clenching my legs as my body trembled, heart racing, gasping for air.
When I say I'm out of shape, I need to stress this point: This is not "Tee-Hee, I let myself go over the holidays. Time for my beach bod!"
When I say I'm out of shape, I mean I feel like dying. All the time.
Nothing works.
Everything hurts.
So... Here I am. Looking to change.
Again, will I get through this tunnel?
No idea. But, I do know one thing: I will die if I stay at this end of it.
Guaranteed death at one end. Possible not-death at the other.
I don't gamble much, but I know which bet I'm taking here.
This blog will serve as a hopefully informative, most likely pathetically hilarious, possibly even a little inspiring, historical log of my journey.
This is the year things will change. One way or another.
This is my contract:
It's going to be unbelievably hard. I know that.
Most resolutions don't get stuck to. I'll change that.
Slow at first. I can do that.
Never give up. I have no choice.
At the very least, no matter what happens, storing all of this as a dairy on a public chain will act as an interesting record of what it's like to go from absolute square one. Perhaps even a little off the board.
This is what it's like to get healthy, from zero.
