When my wife got pregnant, I had this clean, almost cinematic version of myself in my head. I was going to get in the best shape of my life. Not “kind of fit.” Not “better than average dad shape.” I mean peak condition. Strong, disciplined, consistent. The kind of guy who shows up to fatherhood…
There’s a version of me that meant to get ahead of this. Before baby arrived, I had this quiet plan in the back of my mind: get in better shape, drop some weight, fix the nagging chronic pain stuff that I’d been carrying around like extra luggage I just learned to ignore. I told myself…