A New Year, Resolutions, and Hard Choices…

“Good morning boys. Great news… I’m going to be a grandfather… to a boy nonetheless,” a friend shared on our group text, which we kiddingly call the “Magnificent Seven” (it’s eight, but who’s counting?). My friend and his wife have three adult daughters. 

The entire group reacted with cheers and congratulatory messages. It was a fitting way to start the new year.

Already thinking about the new year and resolutions, especially after our pastor addressed the topic in his first Sunday homily of the year, I took a more reflective tone and replied, “Now you have to stay in shape so you can play catch and take him to ballgames in 10, 15, 20 years.”

Like my friend, I am at an age when our bodies start breaking down. Another friend in our group, just a few years older, has already gone through a series of medical procedures in recent years: a knee replacement, surgeries on both shoulders, as he was a competitive swimmer, and most recently, back surgery. Several of us are in or fast approaching the same stage of life.

That text exchange, much like our priest’s homily, led me to reflect internally on health and how a New Year’s resolution to get fit should not be about vanity. It should be about love, about being there for the people who matter most.

I have been doing a lot of introspection and prayer over the holidays and Advent season, thanks in part to the Hallow App, which has been a great exercise (pun intended) in humility and trust in God, especially this Christmas, but that is another story. I am past midlife. No red sports car yet, though I have been watching a lot of car restoration videos on YouTube, if that counts. I am at least 25 to 30 pounds overweight, although my wife might say closer to 40, and I am not exercising the way I used to. It has been about two years since I consistently lifted weights, which I once alternated with running two to three miles on other days.

The last time I saw my doctor, about two years ago, he recommended that I stop running, warning it would tear up my knees as I got older. So instead, I have been walking three and a half miles, five to six times a week. And that is about it.

Yes, my heart and legs are fairly strong, and I have managed to maintain my weight, for the most part, by walking and counting calories. But my muscle mass has deteriorated, and my flexibility has taken a serious hit. The aches and pains of aging are no longer fleeting. They linger. My back is usually on fire, I am constantly stretching while walking the dog, and even getting out of bed or putting on my socks has become a daily struggle. At times, the stiffness and pain are excruciating, and I worry it is only getting worse.

My wife and I have three young adult children, ages 24, 21, and 18. If I want to be there for them as they build careers, get married, buy homes, and eventually have children of their own, I need to take better care of myself.

My wife is a group fitness instructor and wellness coach. On Saturdays, she even teaches Zumba! Her life revolves around exercise, nutrition, and healthy living, body, mind, and soul. Yet, perhaps because of my own insecurities, pride, and ego, I have mostly resisted her guidance. Not because I am entirely recalcitrant, well, maybe a little, but because accepting it would mean admitting she is right. And that hasn’t been easy.

It reminds me of people who resist going deeper in their faith because they know it would require change. They prefer the comfort of the familiar over the discomfort of growth, even when they know better.

Pope Benedict XVI once said, “The world offers you comfort, but you weren’t meant for comfort. You were made for greatness.”

I think the love of comfort may be one of the Devil’s most powerful temptations. It works not through obvious sins but through inertia, through choosing what is easy instead of what is right, such as love, which is often hard.

Ironically, from a spiritual standpoint, I consider myself attuned to my need for God and willing to stretch myself to grow in faith. Yet physically, I resist making healthier choices, even when I know what I should do, because it would require changing habits and giving up things I enjoy, like snacking on jalapeño kettle chips or having a couple of beers after work.

Maybe that is the lesson God is teaching me as we enter this new year. It circles back to humility, which has been the underlying theme of my prayer and reflection throughout the holidays.

I often think about where I will be health-wise when our daughters have children. How old will I be? What kind of energy will I have? What will that look like when our son has children? Will I still be around? I want to be. Will I be able to play catch with my grandchildren, take them to practice, and sit in the stands cheering, just as my parents did?

My parents are 87 and 85. God has blessed them with good health and sound minds. They have three adult grandchildren from my wife and me, and two younger grandchildren, ages 8 and 6, from my brother and his wife. And they still have life to live. I want that too.

So, with my wife’s help, I have resolved to start the new year with an exercise program focused on strengthening my core, rebuilding lost muscle mass, improving flexibility, and, God willing, reducing some of the nagging pain. This is not about self-esteem, as it once was. It is about love. It is about family.

I often tell my kids that love is not a feeling. It is a choice. Feelings come and go, but love endures because you choose it every single day, especially when it is hard. So I am choosing love. I am choosing the hard, for the sake of my wife, my children, and my children’s children. I want to be a grandfather one day like my friend, and I want to be able to play catch, take them to ballgames, and be there when they need me most.

That said, the first week of workouts has been humbling, so pray for me to keep choosing well...