Day four:  Scratch the healthy diet -- unless half a bag of potato chips qualifies as health food?  At least the wine I drank last night was red.

Major discouragement has set in.  It all seemed so hopeless this morning on the treadmill, the odds too overwhelming, making me want to give up.  I can’t believe I used to run seven minute miles, or eighteen miles at a stretch!  Of course, I was thirty five years younger at the time...  Still, a one minute jog at a thirteen-minute-mile pace feels like torture right now.  Could I be in any worse shape?  Giving up would make me even more pathetic, though, so I must forge on.