THE BATTLE AT THE BULLDOG BOWL

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The View from the Press Box

As a sportswriter, I get the best seat in the house for high school, college and professional games. I get to watch athletes do things with their bodies the average fan can only imagine. But now that the offseason is here, I had to face a truth I’d been avoiding: I was tired of being fat, out of shape and miserable.

There’s no softer way to say it. One day, I looked in the mirror and realized life had gotten away from me. Work, deadlines, bills and responsibilities — all the things men carry quietly — had pushed my health to the bottom of the list. I was providing for everyone but myself. I let myself go physically while chasing a dream: earning a college degree, building a career, spending more than 20 years in sales and eventually becoming a sportswriter. Life took me places. It also took my conditioning with it.

Somewhere along the way, the body that once carried me through high school and college athletics and the Marine Corps became an afterthought.

The Weight Men Don’t Talk About

Maybe you’ve felt that, too. Maybe you’ve been so focused on taking care of your family, your job and your world that you forgot to take care of you. Men do that. We put ourselves last until the weight, fatigue and frustration start talking louder than we do.

Sick and tired of being sick and tired of my appearance and weight, I decided to do something about it. What I didn’t know was that there’s a fight inside the fight to get fit.

The First Battle: 4:30 a.m.

For me, the real battle begins before I leave my house — actually, before I even get out of bed. It’s the fight to stay under the covers when the alarm sounds at 4:30 a.m. If I win that one, the next battles are to lace up my shoes, leave the house and head to the Bulldog Bowl.

And let me tell you: When you’re out of shape, everyone knows you’re trying to get in shape. Everyone knows you’re struggling. You can feel it in your breathing, in your legs and in the way people pass you like you’re standing still.

Walking Into the Light

When I walk into the Bowl, it’s still dark. The lights from Mack Chase Stadium spill across the track just enough to show me where to put my feet. There’s something symbolic about that — walking from darkness into light, step by step, breath by breath.

As I walk, I’m not fast. I’m not smooth. I’m not the athlete I used to be. There are 10 to 15 men and women of all ages who pass me at 5 a.m. while I’m doing everything I can to stay upright and moving, searching for oxygen and the next step. They smile, nod and say, “Morning.” I can barely get enough air to nod back. But those little gestures keep me going.

Winning the Day

Before I know it, I am done. Filled. Fulfilled. Satisfied that I didn’t roll over and ignore the challenge. I answered it. I showed up. I did something to improve my physical and mental health by being at the Bulldog Bowl.

Here’s the truth: You win the biggest battle just by getting out of bed and showing up in a public place to work out. It’s just you, your breathing and the next step you take — or don’t take — until you decide you’ve had enough for the day.

Only after you shower and sit down to catch your breath do you feel what you’ve accomplished, no matter what the rest of the day brings. That confidence surges back when you realize you hit one goal today: You started taking your life back. You didn’t talk about it. You were about it.

The Bowl Never Lies

And as I leave the Bulldog Bowl, I know I’ll see it again tomorrow. Its gates will open, watching every step I take, congratulating me for showing up when I didn’t have to.

The Bowl doesn’t lie. The Bowl doesn’t flatter. The Bowl doesn’t negotiate.

It just waits — to see who I decide to be today.

If You Want to Walk With Me

And if you’re out of shape, starting over or just need someone who walks slow and breathes hard like I do, you’re welcome to join me. I’m a big guy. I’m a slow walker. And I’m out there at 5 a.m., trying to get my life back one step at a time.

If you ever want company, I’ll be in the Bowl — moving slow, but moving.

J.T. Keith can be reached at 575-420-0061 or on X at @JTKEITH1.

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