If I’m being honest, the first thought I have when I look in the mirror lately isn’t constructive.

It’s not reflective.

It’s definitely not kind.

Then I suck in my stomach — like that’s fooling anyone — and start looking for clothes to bag my muffin top.

This didn’t happen overnight. There wasn’t a dramatic turning point. No one ripped-jeans moment. Several, in fact. It’s been more of a gradual trade: a little less movement, a little more fatigue, repeated often enough to notice.

The last time I was consistent was during my LA Marathon training block in 2023/24. I crossed the finish line proud — not because I was elite. I am not, nor have I ever been. But I had shown up for months and finished something I started.

Right now, starting at all feels harder than 26.2 miles ever did.

The pattern is familiar. I do one solid workout and immediately sketch out a weekly routine that assumes I’ve unlocked hidden discipline — and I’ve got 1.21 gigawatts of free time.

Impressive on paper; not sustainable.

I miss a day and quietly abandon the whole thing.

For me, the problem isn’t effort. It’s moderation. I swing hard, then stall out. Maintenance feels boring, so I escalate. Escalation burns out. Burnout resets everything, reinforcing the idea that I cannot do this.

So I’m trying something a little less extreme.

A “good day” right now is simple: an objective attempt to move my body on purpose. Exercise, I think they call it.

No metrics. Just effort.

The part that unsettles me isn’t never being fit again — I was never all that fit, really. It’s repeating the cycle. Pushing too far, flaming out, and proving the wrong voice in my head correct.

I’ve overtrained before. I’ve watched my heart rate spike during vigorous activities such as “standing up” or “going to the next room.” I don’t need to relearn that lesson.

What I actually want is pretty basic.

I want to keep up with my kids.
I want to pick them up without thinking about it.
I want to be healthy long enough to see who they become.

Fitness helps everything else. ADHD settles down. Anxiety softens. Depression loses leverage. I’m steadier. More capable.

And yes — I’d also like my shirts to stop fitting like shrink wrap.

So here’s the plan.

I’m going to sign up for strength and mobility classes at my local gym.

I’m going to go to those classes.

That’s it.

Simple, right?

Just showing up and seeing what happens.

That’s where I’m at.

How about you?