Thursday, June 30, 2011
My Mid-life Crisis
I recently overheard someone suggest that men of a certain age who change from a lifetime of sloth and gluttony to suddenly trying to get in shape are probably only doing it because they are going through a mid-life crisis.
I hated to admit it and it took me a lot of soul searching to realize this is exactly what is happening to me.
About 6 months ago, I looked in the mirror and saw my whitening and simultaneously disappearing hair (actually it's just relocating to my ears and back), my sprawling topography of wrinkles, round belly and jiggly man boobs and all of a sudden it hit me:
"Meh, I look OK, I guess."
And yet I still went into my mid-life crisis, nonetheless.
But it was specifically a crisis of my no longer being able to ignore the truth that now that I am over 40, every single year that goes by will be met with a sharp and dramatic spike in my chances of having cancer, diabetes, a heart attack or a stroke, if I continue to eat poorly and do not exercise.
Yeah. Chew on THOSE Cheetos, buckaroo.
That's why I won't dye my hair, buy a sports car that I can't afford or wear gold chains, but I will maybe eat a couple more things every day that are made only out of plants. I will also cross the road just to cross the road and not only to get to the other doughnut.
I am not terribly concerned with how great I look in a bathing suit or if girls half my age still think I am cute (they do), but this "dying while I'm still young" business is a bunch of crap!
Could I still die young? Yes. Statistically, I still have a good chance of dying before I am 50 from chasing down that jackass who cut me off on I-205 on Monday morning, but I suppose it could also still be from a stroke or heart attack before then (especially since stress and anger also apparently help contribute to them).
And if that happens, I more than welcome any and all fat people to say "I told you so!" and dance on my grave (or waddle slowly until they get winded, their choice).
I am 3 days away from starting the 3rd and last month of my P90X workout and I can only hope and pray that it helps me to reach my primary and sensible goal:
To take this wrinkly old fart and make me look sexy!