I turn 25 this week. I realize that turning 25 doesn’t give you any fancy perks the way 16, 17, 18 and 21 did—however—25 is still moderately significant, at least in my case. I’ve long operated under the assumption that I wouldn’t live past 30; an assumption that—given my overall welfare—could prove to be quite generous.
With my “Dead at 30” theory in effect, beginning this Friday the countdown officially launches. I’ve got five years left. My hope is to make ‘em five good years, but given the laundry list of obstacles in my way its going to be an uphill climb.
Here’s what I’ve got to counteract to make this work: I eat like crap. I drink way too many caffeine-laden concoctions. My knees are shot. I don’t sleep well. My back and neck hurt almost as bad as the aforementioned knees. I’ve got what I’m going to call “a fragile lung situation.” I’m probably one corn dog away from a heart-attack. I look silly when I don’t wear hats. I’ve got some of the worst posture this side (or any side, actually) of the Mississippi and, to top it all off, I snore.
Needless to say it’s going to take quite a bit to make the next five years anything more than a slow, continually debilitating death-march. To do this I’m working on a few simple ground-rules for year one and we’ll see where we’re at on these bad-boys this time next year…
-Drink more water and less soda and energy drinks.
-Reinstate my gym membership…and use it.
-Maybe dial back the intensity a little bit when playing sports…maybe?!
-Ice my knees when they hurt!!
-Cut my McDonalds intake by (at bare minimum) 50%
-Start running again—or at least jogging—whatever the knees can handle.
-Get rid of the gut. I’m the skinny-fat guy. Not a situation I’d ever envisioned for myself.
-Find a way to sleep more and sleep better.
-Light beer only. I made that switch once for like a year and it was highly effective.
-Help lead the Bibs to another softball championship.
-Write more and try to get published somewhere…
-Call my friends and family more. I’ve gotten really bad about calling.
-Spend more time just hanging out with Mlady.
-Take more pictures.
-Apply for more jobs in baseball.
-Keep rockin’ out to whatever crappy music I’m listening to at the time.
-Read more, a lot more.
-Be a little nicer and more helpful whenever I can.
-Win my f’n Fantasy Baseball league!!
-Keep on rockin’ the “Walter Mitty Syndrome.” Nothing wrong with a little imagination.
-Get Jennifer Aniston to retract the restraining order.
-Work harder, better and smarter. I feel like I’ve done a lot of work the past two years, but don’t feel like I’ve taken any steps forward, quite frustrating.
-Be an awesome uncle.
So there we have it. It’s a very simple list, but let’s be honest…this is essentially an ass-load of New Year’s resolutions and we all know how well people tend to hold up to those. I figured the right thing to do would be to start slow. Set some straightforward, easily obtainable goals and lay the groundwork for the four years that will (in theory) follow.
Now folks, this is where all ya’ll come into play. As we know, I can be incredibly passionate about something one minute and incredibly apathetic the next. As such, I implore you—my faithful reader(s)—to keep an eye on me and try to steer me down the right path or at least keep from adding more crap to the already expansive list of ‘Reasons Jeremiah is a Dead-Man Walking Limping.’