Here we go...2014

This is my third shot at this blog post.  The first two have been pathetic.  Frankly, they were well written, but pathetic nonetheless.  Imagine a teenage girls diary.  Now add big words.  That was essentially what I producing.  Drivel with an almost Victorian sense of drama.

2013 has been challenging.  I made a move to Boston that has been as unexpectedly rewarding as it has been disappointing.  Leaving New York City is one of the greatest losses I have ever experienced.  I know that my love of New York is neither unique nor overly interesting, but I feel an ownership of that city that I don't believe will ever fade.  I feel a part even while apart.  I continue to take offense when people drop their affiliation with New York into a text or email--as though they are intentionally rubbing their good fortune in my face.  It's silly, but it's happening.

My job here in Boston, however, has been wonderful--which I am quick to add so that I do not sound like I am whining without any sense of perspective.  Though I recognize that I am whining, of course.

To add insult to injury, 2013 was the year I truly dealt with heartbreak, for--unfortunately I am sure--the first time.  The details of that affair do not bear repeating, especially not here.  I've told the story from start to finish to a few patient souls and feel my mission to spread that word has been fully accomplished.  I always suspected a sort of weakness in people who were not able to simply scrape off a bit of heartache and start anew.  I want to apologize to those people--I'm sorry.  I get it now.  Your mind creates a perfect story, you settle into it, learn the words--and that's precisely when someone tells you it is over before it really even starts.  Next you are left to wonder how you misjudged things so badly, was it your decision to move that ended it, would you have moved had you met sooner, should you have, was it just you or was it just, you know, "life things."

My tenure in Boston started with a magical confluence of crappy weather, terrorism and emotional turmoil.  I like to say "a blizzard, a bombing and a breakup."  Boston lost a lot of ground with me in April.

So, I turned inward.  Oddly enough, I kept hearing people make the same statement that essentially boiled down to "Time spent improving yourself is never wasted."  That hit home to someone who felt that every second outside of his predestined city was time ill spent.

It's no secret that my time in New York has been a period of increased happiness and increased calories.  They seem to go hand in hand.  While I was still well below my all time high, I certainly gained back a good portion of the weight I had lost before moving to the Northeast and in doing so lost a lot of ground in the war that is my Fitness Revolution.  In June, I set goals for myself self--deeming them "Things to do While 32."  The first--lose 50 pounds.

I began running again--slowly and slowly (both the training schedule and the speed of my gait).  I starting taking yoga classes.  Actually, I started taking hot yoga classes.  The "hot" makes a difference.  Trust me.

As of today, I weigh exactly what I weighed when I ran the New York City Marathon in 2010--and guess what--I'm running it again in 2014.  That means I have lost a little less than 60 pounds since moving to Boston, and I still have 6 months until I turn 33.

So, with the start of a new year, comes a renewed dedication to sharing my Fitness Revolution.  I have a lot to catch this blog up on and the New Year always seems like a good time to start.  I don't have many resolutions, since I tend to make them around my birthday in June and not in January like the masses, but I have missed writing these little passages and maybe a few of you have missed reading them.  Many of the things I want to write about have nothing to do with fitness--so that will be fun too.

Incidentally, the last time I posted on here I wrote about fireworks I saw over the skies of Manhattan.  The sense that I was meant to be exactly where I was at that moment.  That I had been prepared for it and that something was being prepared for me.  So it is not lost on me that only a few minutes after I began writing this blog post, I began to hear the thuds and concussions from pyrotechnics just a few blocks from my window.  Another show that I did not expect, that was taking place in a spot that I would have missed if I wasn't exactly where I am at this moment.

Let's find out what happens from here--

Tim/Timmy/Teem