For those who have followed
some of my rambling Facebook posts lately, you will know that today represents
a significant day in my life. It never
has before today; last year it came and went without incident. Today, though, it represents something
different. Today is the oldest I have
ever been, and the youngest I will ever be again.
July 1, 2012 marks Day One
of my midlife crisis.
I’m not going to run out and
buy a sports car, although I could. I
have no desire to take on a mistress. I’m
actually pretty satisfied with life in general.
But I’m not getting any younger. It might be a good idea if I started taking
better care of myself. Two years at a
desk job, and I feel like it is subtracting time from my life expectancy.
I’m not overweight – I never
have been, but I’m soft. Things that I
used to do without thinking about it now make me hurt. I still run occasionally, but I check to make
sure there is ibuprofen in the house before I do, and that the hot water tanks
are full so I can get in the tub afterwards.
I used to be an avid martial
artist – I studied Karate for several years, Tae Kwon Do for a year, and a few
months of Aikido. Yet today, I have lost
over half of my strength, speed, and flexibility.
It comes as no surprise to
my friends that I would plan my midlife crisis in advance, I’ve actually been
thinking about it for weeks.
Two weeks ago, after a
two-mile run together, my 11-year old told me that she wasn’t going to run with
me next time, because she wanted to improve her time. That was probably my breaking point.
I made an appointment with a
personal trainer, who will be meeting with me several times over the coming
months. To my dismay, he shattered my
denial by telling me I needed to eat differently. In order to survive the workout sessions he
has planned, I have to eat tons of protein and make sure I’m actually taking in
what I need.
So this morning, off to the
market I went. The objective: to buy a pound of fresh fish. After noonish, it isn’t so fresh
anymore. I was hoping for a big slab of
fresh tuna, although I had no idea what it looked like.
We navigated the maze of
tiny shops until we arrived at the fish place.
There were no fewer than a dozen different varieties of random fish,
including flounder and a few others I couldn’t identify. The vendor didn’t have tuna, but he offered
me another fish, head and all, and said it was almost the same thing.
Sure it is. Pork is almost the same thing as beef, except
it comes from a pig.
Then I saw it. I have never heard of a “side of fish,” but
that’s what this reminded me of. I asked
the fish-seller to slice off a piece that would weigh about a pound. Based on what I got, there was at least 50
pounds of meat there, cut into four giant fish-roasts so it could be easily
handled.
After making a few more
stops, my family and I walked the half-mile back to our house. I took my prized fish steak into the kitchen
and cut it into 4 portions. Before I
did, though, I decided to take this photo to share with the blogosphere. That is a 10-inch plate, folks.
I fried a portion in the
skillet in about a tablespoon of oil, with a little cumin sprinkled on. It was joined by a scoop of fresh coleslaw
and half an avocado.
Maybe this idea of eating
healthy isn’t going to be so bad after all.
Read more of the Redneck Diplomat's struggles with live seafood with An Extra Two Clams.
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