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Since I was young, I knew that as I got older, maintaining my physical fitness and my ability to compete athletically would become difficult. There are numerous studies out in the open on this topic. The general consensus concludes that men and women reach their physical peak between 25 and 30. To me, this seems about right… Although, ever since I discovered beer and started a desk job, it’s been a gradual, doooownward descent from my physical apex.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely hopeless. As I am aging, the ability to lose the spare tire, run at full speed, and hit my maxes while lifting–all things that I used to do ever so easily–have become difficult. What shocks me the most is that my maximum-potential-self existed only a few years ago.
(This is me coping with letting myself get out of shape.)
Anyway, for some crazy reason, I decided to sign up for a co-ed flag football league, and I’m probably going to die.
I probably haven’t run a route in three years–not since the last time I was in the league when I was, by the way, was 25 pounds lighter and a few seconds quicker version of myself. If I don’t tear my ACL immediately, I’m probably just going to lose slabs of flab from running fly routes while the girls on my team outrun me.
Fact of the matter is: it’s been too long for me to try to make cuts. Screw it, I can run in a straight line. Or be quarterback standing still and throwing the ball. Basically, Jared Lorenzen’s body shape with Blake Bortles’ pocket presence.
But it’s not necessarily offense that worries me. There’s no blocking, so if someone else gets the ball and I’m not nearby, the play is over for me. Defense will likely be a full series of running. I’m probably going to be subbing out more often than a 300-pound defensive lineman or else my ankle will be turned, my chest will explode, or my body will simply collapse. And there are few things more embarrassing than being burned, especially when you’re just over thirty going up against 23-year-old postgrads. But I guess it could be worse. They could be 38 and overweight.
The only bright side I have is that I have about a full month to get myself in shape for this great undertaking. That’s likely going to be an hour on the spin cycle or on the track a week, an hour in the weight room, and chicken cobb salads for every meal, but it’s far better than being embarrassed in public. I mean, as someone who used to be somewhat athletic, I can’t make it look like Pros vs. Joes out there. But, God, do I like pizza and naps. I probably should have picked a recreational sport more conducive to my current physical shape, like golf or seniors’ doubles. But maybe it’s good that I’ll be getting exercise in a fun way. As long as we don’t get sauced before the games like we used to. A few margaritas apparently limit your team’s upside… but, I digress.
Countdown: 30 days.
Willpower? Yeah, check.
A way? We’ll fuckin’ see..
Image via Shutterstock