I’m much taller, I’ve never been in a fight, and I look horrendous in star spangled banner boxing trunks.
Plus, no matter how badly your ears lie to you, there is a huge difference between the Brooklyn and Philadelphia accents.
But I do feel like the shortest heavyweight champion in the world for one simple reason…
I’ve got the eye of the tiger.
I was going to ask one of the interns to cue the music and blast Survivor’s classic tune for you now, but none of the interns showed up for work today.
There was an Imagine Dragons concert in Bangor last night and it’s a beautiful day today, so none of my college slackers felt well enough to fulfill their blog obligations.
Clearly, those kids do not have the eye of the tiger.
So why do I feel like I’m channeling my inner Italian Stallion?
For the past twelve days, we have been pretending to walk/run across the Hawaiian Islands. We upload our steps to the wellness app via our fitness trackers, and the competition tells us how far we’ve ventured.
My team has been in the Top 5 since Day 1. I don’t think there’s enough time for us to leapfrog those ahead of us to take home the gold, but we are trying.
In the individual category, however, victory is mine if I can just remain perfect for the next four days. And by that, I mean that the competition allows a maximum of 30,000 steps per day.
You know I challenged that rule on Day 1 by doing more than the max to see what would happen. Alas, it only credited me with 30,000 steps.
Zoinks! Foiled again!
For the first five days, only one other competitor was able to match me with 150,000 steps.
At that point, maybe his tiger eye got blurry or something, but all I know was that on Day 6, I was the only one who still had a perfect score.
I didn’t need to be a math genius to calculate my path to victory. Just stay perfect, and no one would be able to beat me.
Of course, collecting 30,000 steps a day is no simple task.
That’s fifteen miles. For fifteen straight days. No days off. No slacking.
I get up early every morning to run 5 miles before work. Yes, that means I even run on Monday and Friday, which have been my official rest days for over a year.
Every night, as soon as I get home from work, I go on a very long walk.
Then I walk again after dinner.
And I walk until my FitBit mercifully informs me I’ve hit 30,000 steps.
Some nights, that magic moment occurs as I’m walking up the stairs to go to bed. I’m really pushing myself to hit that goal, but I think it’s totally worth it.
People have questioned my sanity, however. They wonder why I’m putting myself through this when there’s no actual prize involved.
The answer is simple: I’m doing it for me.
I’d have the interns blast Eye of the Tiger now if they were here, so just imagine that the song is playing very loudly as you read this.
I very rarely win anything.
I have a tendency to push myself only so far, and then back off when things get tough.
I want to win this because fourteen months ago, I was a fat, lazy, out of shape lump who never got up off my couch. That version of me would never have lasted one day in this competition.
Now I’m very close to winning it.
If that doesn’t make sense to you, then maybe you’ve never been blessed with the eye of the tiger.
I’m at 21,000 steps for the day, so I’m well on pace for Day 12 to be perfect, too. I have a 25,000 step lead over the second place competitor, but I refuse to let up and coast.
Winners don’t back into victory. They run through the tape and keep going until their exhausted legs finally refuse to work any longer.
Then I’d fill it with Snapple and chug from my trophy until it was empty.
Yes, having the eye of the tiger does make a guy that thirsty. Trust me!