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349 pounds snuck up on me. The last time I had checked, I was 312, which was still 100 pounds too heavy. Now I am 150 pounds overweight. I could blame the season or blame the stress and sitting required to launch an online magazine, but I know the blame is on me.

I used to freedive by myself as a teen growing up in Hawaii. I carried a Nikonos III and a knife. I tied my leg to a 100' white nylon line that tied to a float and a dive flag. I launched from Kaimana Beach.

My Novice GW Crew coach, Stephen Weiss, was my idol. No matter how young and strong and cocky we young rowers were during training, Steve could take us. He could row faster, he could lift stronger, he could run further, he could sprint harder.

I just did a Strava heatmap and the results are in: I'm a true-blue South Arlington runner.

Every day is a series of successes, failures, excuses, being a weather wimp (which doesn't work because I have an erg), and blaming a launch sprint crunch. It's all bullshit.

I didn't sign up for any races this year. They're expensive and what I really need to do is run, Forrest, run!

I mentioned that I had become obsessed with Don Fitch's deceptively easy Get Fit, Get Fierce with Kettlebell Swings ebook back in October of last year, right after I realized that swinging a kettlebell for 90-seconds every 60-minutes can very well be punishing if you go from cold to hot without ever warming up and cooling down.  

Sometimes I feel like I was much quicker in my 20s and 30s. Well, I wasn't.

I just discovered Cliffy Young via Amazon Video today. At 61, he ran 500 miles from Sydney to Melbourne, Australia.

People poo-poo walking as exercise, teasing all of us with our pedometers and Fitbits and our obsession with steps. New Yorkers, San Franciscans, and the French, mostly keep themselves fit for life by walking outside and negotiating hills and stairs on a daily basis. And they're skinny.