I’ve never accomplished anything in life.

Nah. That’s not how I should start this. Let’s try again.

I just turned 39 last month. I have three amazing kids, the best wife, my own company and a view of the San Clemente Valley and the Pacific Ocean in the distance when I wake up every morning. There’s not much I could complain about other than to keep up with the schtick on Twitter. Besides all the good in my life, I’m still well aware I have yet to accomplish anything I can be proud of.

There, that’s better.

A few months ago, when Brian said he wanted to start this site to be able to write again and to give his thoughts on pop culture and sports, and the intersection of the two, I started brainstorming the idea of what it would look like to relive my days as a throwing instructor and pitching coach. The plan would be to document my journey from being a lazy dad-bod guy who pretended to be in shape because I rode the Peloton three times a week, to seeing how hard I could throw a baseball again if I actually gave it a fair shot.

Now seems as good a time as any to start that journey.

The goal is to throw 90 miles per hour off a mound by my 40th birthday — end of next July, one year — and the accountability of charting my progress every Friday here is one driving factor.

The other driving factor is maybe, finally I’ll accomplish something. I’ve always been someone that coasts through life. High school, college, a few independent baseball team tryouts, I’m not sure I could ever say I gave full effort to be the best I could be despite being presented all the opportunities I’ve had.

My method for training will be to revitalize the program I adapted and used while I was training throwers during my days at Regal Athletic in Kansas City’s Northland. It was there through the generosity and foresight of my long-lost friend Rob McFarlane, who put the money behind my ramblings and thoughts on how to develop pitchers, that allowed me to explore and push the boundaries on what at the time was the conventional way of training throwers.

To help me along with way will be Mike Neal, my former partner while at Regal Athletic, and current owner of Intensity Athletics. He’s been trying to get me to do this for years without regard for the amount of couch time I’d be losing. It’s been 12 years since I was in the industry; no doubt some things have changed. He’ll be the one to help me fix mechanical flaws and how best to re-engage the lost athleticism I’ll need to get to 90.

It’s also been 12 years since I’ve picked up a baseball, a fact that’s already shown me how hard this goal is going to be to reach. This is my first week of training. Already my shoulder kills; my elbow aches, and I haven’t been able to get beyond two throwing drills in a single session. Not sure why I expected it to be any different, to be honest, but it appears evident the first few weeks, if not more, are going to be a slog while I build back arm strength to even train properly.

So, here’s how it will go:

1. Testing days are three days per week, normally Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday, with three sections for measurement: core, medicine ball throws, and throwing.
2. All measurements will be logged.
   • The core section measurement is how many times I “tap” the 14-pound double handle medicine ball.
   • the medicine ball throws are measured with a radar gun logging the miles-per-hour of each drill using a 4-pound medicine ball, logging the highest output.
   • the throwing section is a series of five throwing drills designed to build arm-strength and body sequencing, each drill mirroring a portion of the pitching motion. These also are measured with a radar gun, logging the highest output
3. Every Friday, I’ll post an update to see how things are progressing.

Come along with me, won’t you? This isn’t going to be easy, but it will at least be an interesting experiment on what an old, fat guy is capable of. Here’s this week’s testing numbers:

And to break the 4th wall and give you an inside look at my house of clutter, here’s a video of my 50 mph double knee drill, complete with my Middle Child’s excitement and my old man groan.

Now off to Beer Friday and to ice my arm. Wish me luck.