Why 43?

The year I transformed

daisy 43 2The question has surfaced a few times when I’m telling people how to find this website.  “It’s 43 (my age back then) fitness dot com,” I’d explain.  This of course promotes instant concern about the glaring inaccuracies to be expected with each ensuing birthday.  43 is a static number in a dynamic world, and the clock only moves forward.  Why not something less specific and unwavering?

Choosing the name for a website is tricky business.  You need something descriptive, available, and easy to rattle off.  I thought about the year I was born.  Nope. 69 just gives off the wrong vibe.  The number of pounds I’ve lost?  Too misleading. I don’t want to trick people into thinking they’re going to a Gen Y site.  I had an idea with something about mom jeans, but that felt negative and ultimately required way too many words to get the point across.

dice 4 3So 43 it was. It came quickly to me, and it’s a number that will always be a dog-eared page in my little manuscript of life.  43 is the year I transformed from an unhappy, unhealthy 40-something into an energetic and vibrant fitness fanatic evangelist.  43 is the year 2 stories were published about said transformation, and the year this blog was born.  43 inspires the kind of anecdote you’d see on one of the tattoo reality shows, and I’d positively have it emblazoned on my bicep if skin wasn’t such a fleeting canvas.  What’s not to love about such a mighty numeral?

In fact, I have developed a strong sense of ownership when I see these digits paired together anywhere – TV commercials, street signs, combo lunch identifiers on a Tex-Mex menu.  I bask in the warm glow of 43 proprietorship.  That number? Yep, it’s mine.  All mine.

time in a bottleSo the answer is this:  I’m definitely keeping it, and as I peek down the path toward my future years on this planet I’ll be able to look back with great affection on this glorious little slice of time when I took complete possession of my circumstance and created lasting change.