We are driving back from Dallas after visiting my niece who is in Texas for the military Bowl game. She’s beautiful, a cheerleader and a student in her sophomore year at the Naval Academy. I don’t get to see her often, but why, is another story. She turns 21 in less than a month and I cant help but think about the person I was early in my 20s, a decade ago. Energetic, thin; outgoing and ready to take on the world. I’m just not that person anymore. I’m over 50 pounds heavier, but at this rate it may as well be 100 pounds. I’m sluggish, I’m tired and achy, I basically suck physically. So when it come time to take pictures with this gorgeous girl, I just want to run and hide. I do the best I can to stand in the back, my son in front of me covering my huge belly. It doesn’t help much since my face is a plump cartoon version of me. I’m smiling, but I’m embarrassed and I hate the person I’ve become. So here it goes, I’m done. I cant do this anymore. I cant shoulder the weight, screw the weight, its the burden of it I can no longer bear. My journey starts now, today, okay, well maybe tomorrow. I mean I cant very well let this chewy praline fudge square I just got at bucccees go to waste. Right?