I’ve been thinking a bit today about exercise and being active, mostly because my twitter feed is blowing up on the topic. In the past 6 months, I’ve lost about 25 pounds. That number sounds kind of ridiculous, but it doesn’t show up on me like one would think. I have a weird Tolkein dwarf-human hybrid body that tends to hide my weight well when I’m porking out, but just sort of tightens up a bit when I get into shape. I’ve gone down three pant sizes, but I haven’t actually bought all new clothes yet, just tightening the belt and whatnot. It’s a blessing and a curse for my vanity.

The real difference is that I feel better. I’m stronger. I have more energy. I push myself mentally to accomplish strenuous physical goals, for at least for an hour every other day. My confidence is up. My stress levels are down. It’s not ideal, of course. A recent NYT article points out that there are few benefits to being a “fit couch potato,” but at least working out gives me a sense of positive action … and the endorphin high ain’t too shabby either. No matter what the science says, I believe that doing something positive and active is better than doing nothing at all.

The deeper motivator is that I know first-hand the results of neglecting one’s physical health. My father was an ER doc, and by all accounts, a good one. But, he died before he was 50 because he wrecked his body. He was overweight, stressed out, a smoker and a diabetic. In his last months, my dad was basically bed-ridden and waiting on a kidney transplant and a foot amputation because his diabetes was so out of control. He died before either procedure. Losing a parent is awful, but there’s something especially disturbing when you know that the loss was both untimely and unnecessary.

During the intervening years, I’ve certainly thought about my dad a lot. And for a good while, I fell into that most selfish of thinking — that it’s all pointless and I may as well go down guns-a-blazin’. After a few years of that whole “growing up” process, I’ve since concluded that I don’t want to go out like that. I’m certainly not in peak physical condition, but I’m working on it. I eat better. I quit smoking. I don’t drink. Staying committed to regular exercise is kind of the final frontier for me. I’m not perfect, but I’m trying. Hell, last night, I went on a Liz-Lemon-esque cheese binge and stayed up until 4 a.m. So, tonight I’ll get my butt kicked at the gym, have a salad and crash early. We’re only here for a little while, and there’s a lot of work to be done. Yes, we should have fun and raise hell and DEFINITELY eat cheese. But, if this is it, I want to know that I did the best I could with the resources I had — my time, my energy and my body included.