It’s been a while since I last posted. My father died. If there’s one thing I think I’ve learned from him, both in life and in death, is to value your health and treat it with respect.

My father had lung cancer before I was born in 1961. He lost half a lung and was blasted with serious radiation. Thankfully I don’t have two heads, but I suppose one could sprout at any moment. In any case, although the last five years of his life were frankly shitty, I think he’d still sign up for the radiation based on the 40 years of good health he did have after treatment. Because of the radiation, at the end of his life he lost the use of his left arm and had lots of other medical problems. The point is, though, that he thrived after his cancer and led a pretty good life.

I remember my father exercising every morning on his electronic Exercycle — a Rube Goldberg-type contraption that had a seat that moves up and down and in the opposite direction from the pedals. My dad was a big guy, and at the time I thought he looked a little silly on his machine, but he definitely had the right idea. The fact that he lived to be 82 after a near fatal brush with lung cancer is a testament to the idea of trying to take care of yourself.

So now I’m back in the saddle, in both my mind and body. I want to lose this weight and exercise and eat right. I haven’t gained any weight over the last month or so, but I haven’t lost, either. Now it’s time to lose.