When I met The Leggy Blonde, I had a 34-inch waist. I was working out for at least 45 minutes every day, and I was maybe a can-and-a-half short of six-pack abs. I had been through a pretty bad car accident, and being in good shape was a secondary consequence of re-mastering the art of ambulation. (I can’t run at all, if you want to challenge me to a contest you know I’ll lose.)
Things change. Being enthralled by a woman takes time, and among the blocks of time I devoted to being enthralled — then being involved, then being a couple, then being a team, then being espoused — was the time I had spent working out. I have worked from home since 1993, and in all that time the refrigerator has never once forgotten my name.
By now I have a 45-inch waist, which doesn’t even count this great bulbous thing that hangs over my waist. I’m 47 years old, but I have always felt like I was 19. I weigh about 250 pounds, where I have always felt like I weigh about 160. I never, ever cease to be surprised when I see this old fat guy staring back at me from the mirror.
At the New Year, I resolved to do something different. Until the last ten years or so, I had always made time to read for pleasure. And, obviously, I haven’t been making time to work out. Now and then, catch as catch can — not enough. So I resolved to put in at least a half-hour a day on the stationary bike, this so I could also read at the same time.
The reading part is working out fine. I know the exercise is also working out, because I can feel the strength in my thighs, calves and glutes. My wind is better, and my overall stamina is improved. But I’m not seeing any visible weight loss. I’m not worried about losing pounds, so far, because muscle mass is more dense than fat. But I would like to see some evidence of evaporating fat.
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James Hsu is a Realtor and Real Estate Investor working in suburban Seattle. From math to computer science to medicine to web development, James may be the whole Realtor 2.0 package personified.