I’ve been telling myself for months that it’s time to start working out again. I had a target date set around the first of May, when my newborn was a month old and my wife could start exercising with me.

It’s May 12th and I haven’t done a thing.

Why, I ask myself?

Fear. It’s as simple as that. At 41 now, the thought if over-exerting myself scares the hell out of me. Is my body ready for the cardio work? Is it too late to change?

I’ve never been a workout maven. In college and even out of college, I was always active, playing basketball, soccer, touch football, softball. so I could keep my weight under control. I would occasionally go a few weeks riding a stationary bike or a treadmill, but weight lifting was hardly ever in the picture. After breaking my fibula and tibia after getting smashed by a car in 2000, was something I avoided.

And one point I went on big walking binge, but I moved and the path I walked every night through a park and the beautiful neighborhood of University Park was gone. So were my walking days.

Sadly now I am probably pushing 215 pounds, up from the 180 pounds I carried two years ago. The frustration of not being able to button my shorts and jeans and having “man boobs” has gotten to me. I right in between short sizes for crying out loud.

So I’m taking the challenge in this blog. I will follow a workout plan given to me by a woman named Chainsaw. I will update my progress twice a week. Wish me luck!