New Year's Resolutions Suck

Simple topic.  New Year's resolutions suck.  Discuss...

If you're waiting for some magical day to suddenly give you the willpower to accomplish something in your life then 1) You're doing it wrong and 2) You've already failed before you even started.

I say this from personal experience.  My resolution last year was to lose 100 pounds.  It really shouldn't be that hard.  I could lose 100 pounds and still be the lard-ass hogging the armrest in the theater.  I have made this resolution many times dating back to high school.  (Fun Fact: That may be the only time you'll ever hear me mention myself, dating, and high school in the same sentence.)

I started off decently.  I "borrowed" a WiiFit from my in-laws and started doing it every day.  I couldn't rely on having time every night so I decided to get up early and exercise the demons before getting ready for work.  And by early I mean Five.O.Clock.  Before this time I had seen 5 A.M. quite a few times in my life.  But previously a look at my clock saying 5 A.M. generally resulted in "Damn! I need to go to bed."

Being a math nerd, I figured if I could lose eight pounds a month then I would be almost there.  The first two months went great.  I would sweat a little in the morning and it helped me get to sleep at a decent time at night.  I was down twenty pounds, ahead of schedule, and feeling great.  Then came a cataclysmic event the likes of which even Ray Finkle wouldn't envy:  My wife's parents asked us to return the WiiFit.

Gasp.  Shriek.

We promptly went out that night and dropped another $90 for our very own WiiFit.  I brought it straight home and immediately set it up.  Aaaaaaaaand ten months later I can't remember if I ever even turned it on again.

Wait, what?

We never actually went an entire day without a unit in our house.  How could switching WiiFit units cause me to fall off of my schedule?

My theory:  My success was so desperately hanging on at that point that anything could have disrupted the routine.  A stone falling out of a washed-up kickers' Dolphins AFC championship ring could have caused it.

I was fooling myself.  I wasn't eating any better.  In fact, I was actually eating worse because I felt like I deserved it for all the "exercise" I was doing.

By the end of the year I was down a net of ten pounds for the year.  Far short of my goal.

So, once again I will try to drop some weight this year.  I've used all kinds of reasons in the past.  Health, looks, desire to fit in to normal chairs.  But now I have a wife and kids.  ( I don't think I'll ever get used to saying that.)  I can't just think about myself anymore.

I don't want to be the fat dad who can't run with his kid outside.  I don't want to chill on the side of the pool too embarrassed to take his shirt off and get in the water with his family.  I don't want to use my weight as an excuse not to do things anymore.  I'm tired of my own shit.  I not going to take the excuses anymore.  I can't scream "Laces out, Dan" and ignore my own shortcomings.

I'm going to Andy Boot Camp.

I'm going to set up a page on this here blogtacular site and keep track of my progress.  Please feel free to stop by and lend encouragement or insult my feeble attempts, whichever you would like.

Just do me a favor:  Be Real.  Don't sugar-coat the truth. (mmmm...sugar)


[Editor's Note: There are four references to Ace Ventura in this post.]