Nothing, If Not A Number

I'll be 40 in a little over six months. This surprises some people, who see my youthful strapping good looks and note my enthusiasm for juvenile comedy films. But it's true. I was born in 1965, the same year the Stones released "Satisfaction." More specifically, I was born in September 1965, the same month the Beatles' "Help" hit the streets. I remember where I was for the moon landing. When people ask me if I was teased as a kid when "Walk Like An Egyptian" came out, I remind them I was a senior. In college.

I recall the episode of "Taxi" where Bobby struggles with his vow to quit acting if he doesn't make it big before he hit 30. When it first aired, I was old enough to grasp the notion of adult regret and the often-futile act of goal setting. I don't remember the episode's ending but I note the irony that the actor who played Bobby was far more famous before he turned 30.

Still, I think I'll have some goals for 40, none of which I plan to give up on if they're not reached. Because heart disease runs rampant on my father's side of the family, my physical fitness is pretty important. The day I turned 35, I ran a half-marathon. Less than two months later, I had the worst bad back of my life, a herniated disc that slowed me down for half a year. I still don't know if the back problem was attributable to my half-marathon training or running, or to my violent slip on the ice of the stairs in front of the St. Paul Public Schools administration building. Either way, I'm going to start running again. And my goal is a full marathon. If one isn't available on the day I turn 40 (September 10), I'll run the Twin Cities Marathon in October. They call it the most beautiful "urban" marathon in the country. I'm not sure if that's true but they keep saying it. Over and over again. The Twin Cities Marathon appeals to me because it would be fun to go out for some night-before-the-race pasta with old friends, if they're not in China by then. Yes, invisible questioner, I'll monitor my physical condition. Thanks for watching my back.

In order to train to run a marathon, I'll have to lose weight. 25-30 pounds worth. And I've discovered the best weight loss system, one that helps the heart, melts the fat, AND makes the work day shorter. It's the walk-up-and-down-20-flights-of-stairs-twice-a-day-at-work exercise. I've been doing it for weeks. 5 pounds gone. And I know all the secrets of the southwest stairwell in my work building, still the smallest skyscraper in downtown Los Angeles. So, by May I hope to be at running weight and then it's off to the bluffs above the beach in Santa Monica, where the running trails are softer than a Stephen Bishop b-side.

Some more pre-40 goals: finish the screenplay, surf a wave on a real board, finish an Ian McEwan book, sell the screenplay, publish a story collection, go to Hawaii, and get on Jeopardy.