Confidence in Me

Forty is the old age of youth; fifty the youth of old age. ~Victor Hugo

The big day has arrived, five decades in the making, and with it, my determination to set out on the right foot for the rest of the journey. Doesn't seem so much like a birthday as more of a giant New Year's day, with all the attendant resolutions. But these I intend to actually keep.

The first order of business is physical health. There was a time - and it wasn't that long ago - that I took this for granted. Exercise came easy and often, and I could bend, fold, spindle and mutilate myself in any way without any significant repercussions. The speed at which this situation changed was nothing short of shocking. One week I'm jogging, the next I'm barely able to negotiate stairs on knees that seemed ready to implode. One week I'm squinting a little to see the computer screen, the next I'm fumbling around with glasses for the first time.

The list goes on, sadly, and it began to wear on me. Various random attempts to curtail the slide seemed to do more harm than good, and I soon found myself caught in a self-imposed (that's hard to admit) cycle of excuses and exhaustion and bad habits and general malaise. The discipline required, I could no longer muster.

Ok, I say, this is no time to panic. There are grown men almost my age who are playing professional sports. Yes, they have sultry cheerleaders and whirlpools and cortisone to spur them on, but still, it seems like I should at least be able to tackle the stairs without any sort of mechanical lifting device or oxygen tanks involved. And if I could button my britches without sucking in a breath, that would be a plus.

I browse the web, reviewing all my options for health-club memberships, and in the end, decide the solution is a spreadsheet. Way cheaper. I plot my strategy, assigning points for all the positive things I do during any given day, and convince my wife to make room in the budget so I can cash in these chips for some tangible reward. According to my calculations, a perfect score could earn me $730 in no-questions-asked mad money after one year. Figuring in the occasional beer(s), pizza, and exercise time spent surfing for crucial information like the current weather conditions in Antarctica, $100 might be a reasonable goal. Slow and steady and persistent, I tell myself, that's the key. It's not a destination, it's a journey.

Day 1, I must say, was a rousing success. Meaning I was able to rouse myself from the bed at some ridiculous hour and walk at a brisk pace, urged on by the sound of music - specifically, The Sound of Music. Back in the day it was Deep Purple booming in the high school weight room that did the trick, but now some crooning nuns are sufficient to keep me going, and when Julie belts out that she has Confidence in Me!... well I do too.