They say the best way to begin something is to tell as many people as humanly possible you’re going to do it. So, I’m announcing it here. I have to start exercising more. A lot more. And I’m going to start on Wednesday, February 1st. Really. I swear. No kidding. Honest. (I hope.)

I used to exercise. I even belong to a gym. A gym I haven’t been to in over a year. I have workout equipment in my basement. I have a treadmill. My 9 year old uses it more than me. I used to exercise every morning before I went to work. I’d get up early and go into my basement. For 8 months I was religious about it. Then suddenly I stopped. I think I got a cold and never started up after I was feeling better.

My wife even commented how good I was looking. I was getting positive reinforcement from everyone. I have shed almost 20 pounds. I was feeling stronger, looking better, feeling better and had a great attitude. Then it all went to hell.

I don’t know how it happened.

My wife often comments that I’m an ‘all in’ or ‘all out’ kind of person. When I do something – I don’t do it half way. I go in with all guns firing or not at all. That I’m not a halfway person. I guess I see that in myself. I do get fanatical about certain things. I also lose interest in things quickly.

So, here it is. Wednesday is the day. I plan to get up early and work out every morning. And by every morning, I mean every morning. Monday through Friday. I know if I take a day off, I’ll stop completely. I need an every day routine.

I promise I will report back to you monthly to let you know if I’ve stuck to my program. If I see you in the office, I want you to ask me about my workouts. If I see you in the classroom and I look tired, it’s because I’m getting up early. And if you see me eating a jelly donut – remind me that I’m supposed to be watching my diet, too.

In other words, if I fail – it’s your fault. (Not really)

Stupid Conversations – A follow-up

A few weeks ago, I told you about a conversation I had with two women on a chairlift. You know, about having children that are 27 and 9-years-old, and how it couldn’t be from the same wife. Well, these same two women cornered me again this weekend. I wanted to kill myself. Here’s the conversation:

Woman #1: You’re the guy with the two wives, right?
Me: What?
Woman #1: The kids who are 20 from one wife and a young kid from wife #2.
Me: Yes, that’s me.
Woman #1: What do you call them? Wife #1 and wife #2?
Woman #2: Doesn’t that imply there will be a wife #3 or wife #4?
Me: (With disgust in my voice) I call my wife ‘my wife’ and my ex – I don’t call her anything. I call her by name if I need to refer to her.
Woman #1: Oh, so the first wife is like Voldemort from Harry Potter ‘She who must not be named.’
Me: Not exactly.

At this point I refused to engage in conversation.

So, that’s it for today. I’m starting to exercise, and I still think these woman have some baggage they’re not revealing. Interesting.

1.30.12