Forty-Seven [insert expletive] Weeks. Every time I think about how long we’ve been doing this, it boggles my mind. I also can’t believe that in three weeks I will have been retired for a year.

Time does fly when you’re having fun.

I’m not going to lie and say that going to the gym has been fun, but retirement sure has been! Not going to work is the greatest thing, ever – and I actually liked my job most of the time.

The gym wasn’t horrible, this week. There was only one trick I couldn’t get, today – passing a 20 lb kettlebell around my legs while in a crouched position. I’m just not flexible enough to do it. I still can’t touch my toes, either – and it doesn’t keep me up at night. Earlier in the week it was doing lunges holding a 25 pound weight over my head. Halfway through the routine, my body just rebelled and said fuggetaboutit. On the other hand, after a particularly gruelling workout, Wednesday, my last feat was a low plank with a 25 pound weight on my back. It was like nap-time – all I needed was my cookies and milk.

What I can do far surpasses what I can’t – and I don’t know what I can or can’t do unless I try doing it. I can double that statement, because Victor is in the same boat. There are things that are relatively easy, things that are difficult, things that are a pretty big struggle, and things that just ain’t happening – and we’ve both lost fifty-expletive-pounds at 67 and 68 years of age. We’re keeping this in perspective.

The gym is opening a new High Intensity Training area – and I already know I will never step foot inside of it. In five weeks, I am done with someone telling me what to do. It’s time to go in, do some weights or cardio, and head home. We’re both tired of the regiment.

What we’re not tired of, is eating.

We’re still doing quite well in the food department – and have to make sure that when we head out on our own, that we’re burning enough calories to maintain our trim boyish figures. I think we can do it without causing too much pain. Move more, eat less.

Our eat less, tonight, was a throw-together of andouille sausage, broccoli rabe, roasted red peppers, and pasta. Well… and garlic.

I chopped and blanched the broccoli rabe, drained it, and set it aside. Into the pot went the pasta to cook.

Meanwhile, I diced up some andouille sausage and cooked it off in a large skillet. When it was just starting to brown, I added a bit of minced garlic and the broccoli rabe. When it was all hot, I stirred in the chopped roasted peppers, and then stirred in the pasta. A bit of salt and pepper was all it needed.

It came out really good. The broccoli rabe was perfect – not bitter as it can often be – and the andouille was perfectly spicy.

Five more weeks.

We can do this…