It started in the Caribbean at the beach. I was trying to take a photo and my daughter’s bum was in the way, so she stepped aside, looked me up and down, and said, “Nice dad-bod.” No hesitation. No mercy. She was right. So I ran.
At first it was survival: 1 mi in 20 min, lungs bargaining, legs filing complaints, mind screaming “what is f**k is this?!?” Then it became progress: 2 mi under 15 min. Then it became real speed: a 5K under 21 min. The numbers followed too: body fat from ~24% to under 10%, BMI from 24 to under 22. Consistency did what motivation never could.
I even started training for runDisney, aiming for the 10K and Half Marathon, then the event sold out. Disappointing, but it did not change the work. The goal was never the medal. It was becoming the kind of person who trains.
