The Day Before--The Last Supper

How is it that a 42 year old man who weighs 180 pounds and stands nearly six feet two inches tall can feel so shitty. Health-wise that is. I spent the day at the park with my daughter yesterday, and while running from tree to tree at a four year old girls pace, I started to get sick to my stomach. Grace had met a new friend at the park and this young girls mother joined in on the fun. I had to stop running and save my energy for an emergency surge of power, like if Grace went blasting toward the street, or a leash-less dog came at her. I was starting to feel a sense of panic. I just might puke my guts out right here and now in a crowded park filled with exactly two bouncy castles and an extended hispanic family with two barbeque's going at one time. I managed to talk myself out of the puke-fest just at the point of my mouth getting all watery and the sweat starting to bead on my receding hairline. 

"Where the hell did that come from" I thought. A few weeks earlier while I was away on business in China I tried lugging two pieces of luggage up a train station stairwell in Guangzhou, China. I had done this routine on many occasions, but for some reason, this time was different. I felt exhausted. Then I felt dejected as an older man offered to help, and he was carrying a bit of luggage himself. "Where the hell are the porters for Christ's sake" I thought to myself. I felt a sharp pain in my chest. No, it wasn't my heart, I had that checked out fairly recently, it was my ego. It was my ego trying to re-establish itself from the hidden caverns of my brain. 

Ok, I sort of let myself go the last couple of years. I didn't get fat, I got stupid. And I stayed on the stupid train for a while enjoying the priveledges of body neglect stupidity. The booze, the cigars, the sun, the late nights watching Bill Maher on HBO east on friday nights, and I live in L.A. so you do the math.  I vowed to myself that as an older dad, (I had Grace when I was 38), I would remain in good physical shape, at least until she was 18. I wanted to be the model of a healthy dad, leading by example, going to the gym, running, eating good food, and here I was four years into it and I haven't really followed in Lance Armstrongs footsteps. In fact, as I was downing a Red Stripe the other night Gracie said "Dad is that booze?"

I have been out of the country five time in the last six months. Three times to various parts of China and twice to Europe. One of the best aspects of overseas travel is definitely the eats. In Guangzhou My friend Sarah found a hole in the wall Szechuan place and we ordered enough food for Jon and Kate Plus Eight. In Amsterdam it is always this little place called Rene's near the Krasnapolsky Hotel that does me in at about 2:00 in the morning. It wouldn't be so bad really if I could just get my ass out the door and run a few miles, but the Cigar Shop would beckon me, or the yearning of a Cafe Americano accompanied by a toffee almond bar was just a 21 yuan taxi drive away.

So this is it. I'm gonna do this the only way I know how. Fast and Furious. Anybody that really knows me, knows that that is the only way I know how to do things For better or for worse, I know no other way.

Tommorow is Day 1 of my Body and Mind Transformation. I'm going to hit the workout circuit pretty hard. Im going to change this soft body and mind into a nuclear generator sans the radiation. No booze, no junk food, no vice, well, maybe a puff here and there, but I promise not to bang any bongo drums at three thirty in the morning, and I am going to document the potential train wreck on a daily basis, photo's and all.

So my friends tonight I will indulge in a glass of 2005 Turley Old Vines Zinfandel and a Final Romeo and Juliet #2. Until October 15th, 2009. Wish me luck.