Twenty-five years ago, all-nighters, caffeinated bloodshot eyes, that walking dead feeling as you sit down for your final exam — they all seemed like great ideas at the time.
I’m not really sure how this approach became the norm, but this recipe for disaster seemed to transcend through college campuses around the country.
So, after 25 years of post-grad living, you might think I’ve learned a thing or two about preparation for the big day. In my case, that just maybe “the springtime fitness plan,” where you decide to get rid of the ‘dad bod’ would carry me toward a result. This, I thought, would be the year I’m going to get back into shape and go toe-to-toe with the young guns of the gravel racing scene.
Five months fly by in an instant, and I have awoken from my pipe dream as the daily grind of work, family, and life seem to present themselves as serious obstacles at every 5:00 a.m. alarm. I wake up mumbling to myself, “those after-work beers seemed like a great idea at the time.”
