Maybe I Should Get a Salad

"I'm supposed to have how many chins!?" Tom reevaluates his life at 4AM in an airport in Fort Lauderdale...

What can I say? It's time for some changes. It's grown increasingly obvious, I've gotten a bit... well, big. I'm not proud of it. In fact, it's downright annoying. Lamentably, I have no one to blame but myself. Some people turn to booze... some to cigarettes. Me? I got Domino's on speed-dial. Geeze.

At 26, one begins to grow concerned if you've already been in the best shape of your life. I know, "26?! Are you for real, Tom?" But... you begin to worry. Maybe I'm just weird, but 30 years from now, I don't want to look back on old photographs from 2005 and wish I had that waistline back when I was 26. No... I think there might be some room for improvement. Just a smidge. I think.

Now, before anyone gets nervous, I'm not planning on making this my "Oh my God, I just ate 4 skittles and I'm SO FAT and Chad will never ask me to the prom" sort of blog. Like my physical fitness, this'll be a work-in-progress. I may give updates every so often... like on the day my belly stops jiggling when I breathe. Or when I manage to walk up the stairs without going into cardiac arrest. Or when I win the big truckers arm wrestling tournament and win back the respect of my son and his snooty grandfather, Robert Loggia.

Yeah, that would be effin' sweet.