In three days, it will be Sunday, March 1st, 2026.
Ten weeks from that date, on May 20th, I will be stepping onto a beach in Cancun, Mexico. The sun will be bright. The water will be turquoise. And I want to walk across that sand lighter — 10 to 15 pounds lighter — and carrying myself differently.
Not just thinner.
Stronger.
More disciplined.
More confident.
Yes, I’ll still be pale. North Dakota winters don’t exactly build a beach tan. But I don’t want to worry about how I look standing by the pool or walking the shoreline. I want to feel earned confidence — the kind that comes from keeping promises to yourself.
The First Two Months: Good Intentions, Inconsistent Execution
The first two months of 2026 were not a failure.
But they weren’t a victory either.
I tried to be more consistent with my workouts. I made efforts toward healthier eating. Some weeks were solid. Some days felt productive.
But when it came down to it, I let excuses make too many decisions for me.
“I’m tired.”
“I’ll go tomorrow.”
“One missed workout won’t matter.”
“It’s just a little chocolate.”
More times than not, the excuses won.
And that’s the part that bothers me most.
Not the scale.
Not the mirror.
The inconsistency.
This Isn’t Just About Cancun
Cancun is a deadline. A visual. A motivator.
But this 10-week window is really about something deeper.
It’s about proving to myself that at 66 years old, I can still choose discipline over comfort.
It’s about showing myself that structure beats mood.
It’s about building evidence that I can execute a plan — even when I don’t feel like it.
There’s a quote I’ve always liked:
“Perfection is unattainable. But if we chase perfection, we can catch excellence.”
Perfection would be 220 pounds.
Excellence, right now, is showing visible change by May 20th.
Excellence is consistency.
Excellence is momentum.
The Plan: 10 Weeks of Structure
This is not vague motivation.
It’s a defined structure.
For the next 10 weeks:
1. Four Weight Training Sessions Per Week
Two upper-body focused sessions.
Two lower-body focused sessions.
No skipping because of “low energy.”
No rearranging because of inconvenience.
Training builds muscle. Muscle preserves metabolism. And strength builds confidence.
2. Minimum of Two Incline Treadmill Sessions Per Week
Incline walking is simple. Effective. Joint-friendly.
It doesn’t have to be flashy. It just has to be done.
3. Weekly Metrics
Every Sunday:
- Body weight
- Waist measurement
Not obsessively. Not emotionally. Just data.
The waist measurement may matter more than the scale. If the midsection tightens, progress is happening.
4. Nutrition Accountability
I will chart:
- Daily food consumption
- Water intake
- Chocolate and sweets
This isn’t about eliminating enjoyment. It’s about eliminating mindless binges.
Chocolate isn’t the enemy.
Lack of control is.
Why I’m Writing It Down
There’s power in writing.
There’s power in tracking.
There’s power in saying something publicly — even if the audience is small.
Charting workouts.
Charting weight.
Charting waist.
Charting food.
Writing about the process forces ownership.
It removes the escape hatch.
What Success Looks Like
Success is not just 10–15 pounds lost.
Success is:
- 40 completed weight sessions
- 20+ incline sessions
- 10 weeks of data
- Reduced waist measurement
- Fewer binge episodes
- A stronger midsection
- Better posture
- Visible muscle tone
- Evidence of discipline
If the scale moves 8 pounds instead of 15, but I execute the plan? That’s still success.
If the waist drops two inches and my shirts fit differently? That’s success.
If I stand on that beach knowing I kept promises? That’s success.
The Real Goal
The real goal is not Cancun.
The real goal is identity.
I want to be the man who does what he says he will do.
The man who trains whether motivated or not.
The man who chooses long-term pride over short-term comfort.
Ten weeks.
Seventy days.
A clear start line.
A clear deadline.
And a simple question:
Will I prove to myself that I still have it?
Final Thoughts
This isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about building proof.
Proof that I can commit.
Proof that I can execute.
Proof that discipline is not something you age out of.
Ten weeks from now, I will either have a list of excuses — or a record of completed sessions.
On May 20th, when I step onto that beach, I want more than a lighter body.
I want the quiet confidence that comes from knowing I did the work.
And that is something no scale can measure.