Every Year I need to prove I'm an Ineffective Asshole.

That's me in 2005. 

I was 60 lbs lighter than I am today. 

As is customary with the passing of the 12 month cycle of the Gregorian calendar, I am once again making a resolution to be that guy over there.

So far it's just been diet, I started doing Weight Watchers (for men, cause I'm a bad-ass, like Kid Rock). So far I'm down 8 pounds but in the grand scheme of things that isn't really shit. I need to lose another 40 pounds minimum.

Over the last 7 years I've gained 2 more children and 60 pounds of excess weight (not counting the two kids). It's fucked up. I'm a fat pig. 

So now I have to add in some sort of exercise which isn't easy, because I've NEVER exercised in my life. I didn't in high school, in college, never. My friends didn't exercise, no one I knew exercised except for my wife, but since we have a bazillion kids, when she was exercising that meant I was babysitting. 

I think I've decided I want to get into yoga. It fits in with my sort of kind of in some weird way Buddhist mind set and I think it's low impact (BUZZWORD!) and I have fucked up knees and and ankles (and liver and heart and lungs and bowels). 

Although my friends are all trying to get me to go with them to a yoga class at a gym I'd really rather secretly join a yoga studio anonymously and slowly work at it with a group of strangers who won't, at a later date, judge me at cocktail parties filled with people who know me. The problem has been I can't find a fucking yoga center near my work or my house, which is kind of ridiculous since I thought yoga was SPECIFICALLY marketed towards suburban douchebags with too much discretionary income and I live in the heart of S.D.W.T.M.D.I. Country.

This won't stop me though, I'm going to join a center this week and begin the process of slowly breaking my ankle on day one of class and being laid up in bed with a cast for 7 weeks, because I want to be in shape.

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