Ten years ago, if you told me to get up at 6am to go for a run, I would have laughed in your face.
Ten years ago, if I had told my friends or family I was going to get up at 6am to go for a run, they would have laughed in my face.
Yesterday, I got up at 6am and went for a run. The world did not end, the universe did not implode, the dead did not rise to feast on human flesh. More importantly, I didn’t die. Panted and wheezed? Sure. But die? No. I compounded it with 2.5 hours of karate class in the evening, with the last half hour devoted to Judo sparring. While I mangled my big toes on the judo mat, I have no lingering soreness from the added workload.
I suspect I’m finally getting into some semblance of shape. I still have quite a few pounds I’d like to drop, but looking back at my exercise logs I can see I’m getting in a workout more often than not. There are weeks I worked out every day, and never is there a gap for more than two days (with the exception of the weeks I was very sick — damn this winter!) without some form of a workout, be it calisthenics, karate practice or class, kobudo practice, or punching and kicking the bag. I feel better than I have since I was 19.
So I’ve got that going for me. Now if only I can figure out what to do about a proper hairstyle…