Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Believe me, I've been hearing it from Sarcasmo the Wonder Wife: "That guy at The Cycle hasn't blogged in FOREVER!"
So, here's your reward/punishment: The annual January cliche "I'm a fat man, and here are some things I'll pretend I'm going to do in the next year to become a less-fat man" post.
My incentive? I'm now 41 years old. My dad was 44 when he had his first heart attack. From that day on, he lived looking over his shoulder, afraid that The Big One was sneaking up on him. It caught up ten years later, when he was only 54, long before he had a chance to walk my sister down the aisle or meet his grandsons. That, my friends, is no way to go.
I certainly don't want to turn this blog into one of those self-indulgent "my fitness and health journey" things. That's been done, and done way better than I could hope to do it. But in the hope of publicly shaming myself into better habits, I will be checking in from time to time with some vital stats, namely 200 pounds, and a paltry 85 miles logged on the indoor hamster wheel (no cyclometer on the commuter bike, but when the commute is a mile each way, it doesn't add up fast).
The other plus of getting healthier and living longer? More time to torment Sarcasmo with my attempts at humor. You're welcome, dear.