I am getting to be an old bastard

This past Monday (July 11th) I turned 27. I'm waiting for the "quarter-life" crisis to kick in. Ever since I was about 15, I've thought age 27 would be the pinnacle of life... I don't really know where I picked up this little nugget of silliness, but it's stuck with me, and I recently found myself counting down (and dreading) the days until my birthday.

Perhaps it comes from being a huge fan of hockey. I always hear commentators and sports anchors talking about how the peak of an NHL players career is age 27, and how's it's all downhill from there. Damn propaganda... that's what I get for watching too much TV.

Regardless of my insecurities, I've decided that this 27th year of my life will be all about getting into the best physical shape of my life. Not so much for aesthetic purposes (although I'm sure Sarah won't complain), but more for my own sense of self worth. You see, ever since I can remember, I've been the chubby guy. Not necessarily bad at sports, but never in the elite category. I've always used the "genetics" excuse, but I want to find out for sure if I can actually become a non chub-chub.

I'm not planning on going all out balls-to-the-wall or anything, I'm just going to work out a little more and watch what I eat a little more. With any luck, by the time 28 rolls around, I'll be half the man I was 4 years ago.

2001: 250lbs chub-chub


2005: 200lbs quasi chub-chub

2006: ???

Happy Birthday Kenny!