The pressure I feel to perform better across all aspects of my life is breathtakingly overwhelming.
In the past five years, my perspective on weight and, in particular, owning a scale has shifted.
If you were cautiously side-eyeing the Obituaries section of the news to make sure my name wasn’t there, I’d like to now assure you I am still very much alive.
Quicker than you can say “bicycle”, we were at the back of the store to pick out a helmet and asking someone to get the bike he’d selected ready for us.
Forget about distance. Forget about time. Forget about whatever it is that’s holding you back and just start.
There’s no shortcut. No magic pill. No single exercise or activity to fix it – it’s never-ending, a gift, and, frankly, it’s a massive responsibility.
There are critical issues in my life that need to be addressed first. I need to eat well. I need to take care of myself. Once I’ve done these things, I can take care of my son. Then I can take care of my work. Then I can take care of the house.