Grin and Bare It

This, aside from writing my brother's obituary, is the hardest thing I've ever done. But I promised myself - and you - honesty.  And so much of this journey will be physical. It will be built of muscle and bone, flesh and ligament. Blood, too, I'm sure some of that will flow, running in streams alongside a torrent of sweat and hot, salty tears. I'm not kidding myself that in order to be remade I won't need to be dismantled first. I don't know what ascending two of Seven Summits next year will cost me, but no matter how dear the price I will gain so much more than I give. 

Part of that profit will be greater strength. Increased flexibility, better balance. A dividend of energy not possible for me to imagine in my current state. My body, so long only a vessel for pleasure, will become a temple of pain. But I will emerge from it healthier than I've ever been in my life.

​In the meantime, here is the beginning. Me, exactly one week from 50, the day before I begin training. No retouching in these photos - all sags, wrinkles and lines are presented here, in their full glory. Acting against every instinct, I didn't hold in my tummy. Hell, I didn't even get a pedicure first. It's terrifying, laying myself open like this. But to see how far I've come, I need to be truthful about where I began. 

By the way, these gorgeously shot photos? They were done by Tamar London. She made me more comfortable getting photographed in a sports bra and bike shorts than I ever would have believed possible. Those smiles are real - we were laughing so hard it's a wonder she could shoot anything at all. If you're anywhere in Central Pennsylvania and need a photographer, give her a call. She's magic. I'm so grateful she's joined my team.