I've been down.
I've gained weight.
Slipped in training.
Blah, Blah, Blah.
Today is my birthday. 42 years old. A fresh new year ahead of me.
I went to the gym and ran. I was perhaps slower than I was a year ago.
I was definitely in a bigger sized pair of pants and moving more weight than a year ago.
All that matters is right f'ing now.
I felt great. And it was during that slow-ish 3 mile run that I decided that this was going to be my year.
No more crying about a few gained pounds. No more lamenting about having no time. No more excuses. This year will be my year.