With the exception of a few breaks during extenuating life circumstances, illness and injury, I have worked out everyday for 37 years. I started lifting weights when I was 17, heartbroken after an unexpected breakup and determined to get built so she would “she what she was missing”. I might have been exercising my body but obviously was not exercising wisdom, good judgement or maturity.
When I started that I hated lifting weights. I was scrawny, weak and uncoordinated. I didn’t know what I was doing. I hated spending time 3 days a week lifting. I remember adding up the hours once and wishing I could stay fit by working out for 24-48 straight hours once a month instead.
However, in time, my dual motivations of spite and heartbreak melted away. Working out made me look better and feel better. In addition to lifting weights, I started running, swimming and biking.
Since then, working out has been an integral part of my life. Once I joined the working world, I made it a priority to workout in the morning because it “got me going” off to a good start each day. It’s been the way for me ever since.
I won’t lie. Some mornings, I felt like the guy who’s “got to make the donuts“. But, no matter, I get going and 99% of the time begin to feel pretty good once my blood gets flowing.
For me, it’s as integral a part of my life as eating, sleeping and paying the bills.
It’s just what I do.
Back when I was 17, I would never in a million years have predicted I’d be a “workout guy”.