Wow. I've really let myself go.

It was just five years ago that I was a wiry 135 pounds. I could run a 5K in 20 minutes. I could also squeeze into those tiny uniforms we had to wear for cross-country and track. Now look at me. I can't even run around the block without feeling like I'm going to drop dead. What happened?!

Oh, yeah. College happened.

While college was liberating for me, I think it may have ruined me at the same time. Upon my arrival in Boston, I traded my strict track-and-field workout regimen for a steady diet of disgusting cafeteria food and Natural Light beer.

Mmm. Watery beer.

Well, I'm now paying the price for my lack of motivation. I've put on about 40 pounds since my freshman year (admittedly, I was pretty skinny to start out with). I have a gut now. It's probably only a matter of time before I develop love handles and jowls. The thought of looking like an English mastiff is pretty scary. Yet instead of working out after I get home from the office, I'm usually sitting on the couch watching a DVD from Netflix.

I've made a couple of weak -- very weak -- attempts to turn the tide. The summer after my junior year in college, I thought it would be a good idea to go on a high-protein diet and bulk up. Yeah, that would be cool.

After about one day of whey protein shakes, flaxseed oil and canned tuna, I'd had enough. Senior year put everything on hold. It's supposed to be the best year of your life. Why waste it with working out?

When I returned home and started my job, I figured it might be time to get in shape again. My parents are workout fiends who go to the gym several times a week. They kept dropping not-so-subtle reminders about the importance of eating healthy and taking care of oneself.

I recall one day when I was looking through old Christmas card pictures. My mother walked into the room and looked over my shoulder at the photo, dated 2003.

"Oh, look how cute you were back then!" she said.

Thanks, Mom.

I tried cycling one day. It wasn't bad, except for the fact that I drank a giant cup of coffee before I rode and it felt like my heart was going to explode. That pretty much put an end to that.

I thought a stricter diet would help. Some granola for breakfast, a lot of water throughout the day, plus some basic meals for dinner. That lasted about three days before I started gorging myself on Egg McMuffins and Double Quarter-Pounders. Maybe I just needed to resume my old cross-country workouts, I thought. Just like in the old days, in a couple of weeks I'd be back in top form.

That didn't work either. I had a string of four days when I got up at 6 a.m. and went for a run. I thought I was going to turn the corner. But then the weekend came, and I took two days off. Naturally, when Monday rolled around, I woke up around 8:10 and scrambled to get to work. That was the end of that.

Just recently, I decided to adopt a new workout partner -- my little black terrier Lab mix Deacon. He's a formidable opponent. He spends his days outside in the yard, constantly chasing squirrels and other vermin. He also runs the electric fence line after cars as they drive by. Suffice it to say he's in very good shape.

So picture this 30-pound dog dragging my dead weight around the neighborhood. It was humiliating to say the least. So I guess it's back to the drawing board.

Contact John Krahnert III at 693-2473 or by e-mail at jkrahnert@thepilot.com