State of Chubbs

It's Friday night. The Mrs. is out for dinner and shopping with a friend. I am home alone with the brood and at this moment sitting in a pool of my own sweat.

I've just wrapped Day 40 of my Insanity workout program. Like my P90X progress over the winter, I've not yet missed a day.

I have a love-hate relationship with my trainer, Shaun T. Dude is insane, appropriately enough, but it's difficult to argue with the results. I'm melting away and growing bigger all at once. It feels good to feel good.

I'm evolving.

Today I enjoyed the leftover broccoli I had in my lunch.

Me, the guy who only ever indulged in PB&J as a child.

Me, the guy who once hid a bowl of veggie soup behind the canned goods in the pantry and left it there to grow old, and mould, until it was discovered one, two, three weeks later.

Me, the guy who even just last year would surreptitiously dump most of my greens in the trash while the kids weren't looking, because, well, how can I get them to eat their vegetables if I'm not eating them myself?

Hypocritical much?

But not anymore.

Last night's dinner and today's lunch -- lemon pepper haddock with broccoli and quinoa.

Quinoa for crying out loud.

Up until recently, I could not have told you what quinoa was, and now I clamour to have it on my plate with dinner and my leftover lunch.

What up with that?

If only the evolution could come as quickly between the ears as it has come from the shoulders down.

Been feeling antsy of late. Anxious to tell you the truth.

It's always been in my nature to have an active mind.

Check that. Overactive mind.

I hide it well but at times it chews me up inside.

I worry. About everything.

I'm learning to let it go and not sweat the past and the baggage and the things that can quite simply muck up a good day when a thought crosses my mind.

It's a tough haul, but not insurmountable.

Been through these days before. And survived and thrived each time.

Really not much to whine about these days anyway.

Got me a good woman, who sprouted me three absurdly adorable babies.

The Eldest is now in school and loving it.

The Daughter Formerly Known as The Latest Addition is transitioning from temperamental toddler to soon-to-be three year-old.

Slowly. But surely.

The Final Addition is catching up. Dude is a tank, and tonight, his first night without a soother to put him to sleep, squawked for barely 15 minutes before relenting and turning in for the night.

A record in the Chubbs and Hot Wife household.

It's all good. And really, would be all around awesome were the anxiety not quite so prevalent from time to time.

But at least it's manageable. And I'm alive to have Shaun T. kick my ass night after night after night.

Tomorrow I golf. Likely for the last time of the season.

Three weeks ago I thought I had the game figured out. Shot a sweet 88 and figured I was on a roll.

Followed that up with a beauty 103.

Barf.

Then a 102.

Barf, barf.

Tomorrow I'm seeking to go out in style, somewhere around 90 so I can remind myself all winter that I've got the game to compete with all the other wannabe hackers of my ilk.

I think I'll be wearing a toque though. And long johns. And maybe four layers up top. It's gonna be a cold Fall day up here in these parts.

But at least it's golf. With my old man, The Moustache, too.

Nothing like a father-son match on the links to bring out the competitive fire in each of us.

He's up 2-0 for the season, so already has me beat.

Gotta make a statement though. Gotta beat him. Gonna beat him.

And gonna beat away the anxious moments that sometimes leave me perplexed and vexed.

But I think I'll start by changing my shirt, because right now, I'm cold and I stink.