ON SECOND THOUGHT, MAYBE I'D BETTER START WITH THE BAR

This Tuesday, after what amounts to five years of procrastination, I went to the gym.

I think part of the reason I waited so long is that on some level, I did not really believe I needed to go. In high school and college I hit a level of fitness I was pretty happy with and never felt the need to bulk up further. I had a six pack. I could run and swim long distances. I could lift heavy objects and hold them for long periods of time. I was proud of my ability to surprise people by doing so. That's all I wanted. Okay, that's not true, I wanted to attract women, but I settled for taking pride in myself (which, as it turns out is in itself an attractive feature).

After I left college, I worked on a construction site and grew even more fit carrying all sorts of equipment up and down four stories worth of ladders and, later, twelve flights worth of stairs. Then I got a desk job, but I think I refused to acknowledge what that might do to my general health (I also started drinking soda to stay awake at my desk job and that probably did not help either). Despite mounting evidence to the contrary, I still didn't really believe I needed to work out. I was pretty sure I still had my six pack (I just figured it was, you know, covered). In the back of my mind I've always felt that I could just walk into a gym and pick up where I left off and so felt no sense of urgency about doing so. There's also a good chance that, deeper down, I had no desire to actually test this theory.

Well, I went and tested it Tuesday. See, I'm going on a long hike (no, Dave, my version of a long hike) with my family in the Summer and I don't want to embarass myself in front of them. My brother, as part of our preparation for this hike, has convinced me to sign up for a triathlon in May and I don't want to embarass myself in front of all those strangers. Also, my girlfriend has started going to the gym and I really don't want to embarass myself in front of her. So Tuesday I went with her.

As it turns out I don't have that six pack anymore. It's not cleverly concealed, it's gone. Nor can I just start where I left off. It was a painful discovery, both mentally and physically. I was smart enough not to actually try the weights I used to do, but I may have underestimated my decline. I have always considered myself fit and now I have proof that I'm not. Not at the moment, at least. Well, it's time to change things.

I went back on Wednesday.