Last Saturday I decided to start doing push-ups again. (This was also my second resolution of 2012.) But this is not the stupid part.
Today I decided to do 100,000 push-ups before Dick Clark - assuming he's still with us - cues up Auld Lang Syne 320 days and 80 minutes from now, give or take.
But...this is not the stupid part. Nor is the part about doing them all on my knuckles.
The stupid part is telling someone (besides my son who can't count to 100,000 yet) that I am doing this. Because doing so will make it impossible to back out without risking social castration.
I've anted up with my conscience. I've done the math. So here goes, aging ligaments and responsibilities of fatherhood be damned.
Since this afternoon's schizophrenic moment of courage I've done 60 pushups. I'm going to count the ones I've done since this past Saturday when for no explicable reason I started keeping track. Which means 390 official push-ups so far. That leaves...kind of a lot to go.
What to expect from all this? I have no idea, but it should be fun.
For you guys at least.