Two years ago, aged 30, I played in an adult kickball game. Although it was my first time playing since middle school recess, as far as I was concerned, the beers in our hands were the only material difference between this game and those of my youth. I remembered that the keys to success were fairly simple: kick the ball hard and run fast as hell.

The first step went smoothly. A red rubber ball came skipping along the dirt, and I heard a satisfying “ping!” as the ball sailed far beyond the heads of any opponent who might threaten to catch it. I went full throttle to first base. Glancing at the outfielders still chasing that red rubber ball, I could tell there was plenty of time to reach second. But I didn’t.

My hamstrings, angry at having been so abruptly awakened and put to work, exacted their revenge. They seized up, nearly bringing me to my knees. I bent over, as if to touch my toes (I couldn’t), trying to give my legs the stretch that I thought they were asking for.

“It’s ten years too late,” said my hamstrings. “You should have been stretching us all along. You never should have let us get this tight. But your lazy ass has been sitting at a desk — all day, every day — and now you will suffer the consequences.”

Mercifully, the next kicker struck out and a booze break commenced.

I’m 32. I don’t move like I used to.

A lot of my peers with 30+ years of Earth experience have had experiences analogous to mine. I hear it from friends and I read it on the internet:

“I’m not 22 anymore.” Or,

“I’m 34 now, and things are starting to come a little unglued.”

It’s undeniable that our bodies break down as we age. We’ve all watched older friends and family go gray and become less mobile. A lifetime of disciplined sunscreen application won’t help a 75-year old pass for 25. So as we reach our upper 20s, 30s and 40s, it’s natural to attribute our decreasing mobility and increasing injury rates entirely to age. Herein lies the purpose of this website: STOP IT.

Stop counting from birth date. Start counting from employment date.

Yes, I’m 32, and yes, my movement isn’t what it used to be. And yes, those facts are related. But NOT directly related. We aren’t born at our physical peak, doomed to a life of inevitable and linear decline. That would be as depressing as it would be disturbing. Thankfully, our peak is achieved (and that decline begins) later in life. For me, it came the day I took a desk job.

I realized recently that I’m like a Ferrari that’s been left to sit in storage for ten years — never driven, never maintained. It still looks pretty fast, but numerous mechanical issues plague its performance as a result of its neglect. Now, this is not a perfect analogy — I’ve been lifting weights, running and otherwise exercising quite a bit over the past decade. But even daily workouts are not sufficient to reverse the impacts of 8-12 hours spent sitting at a desk and staring at a screen. The human body evolved to hunt and gather, not to sit and type.

It’s time to do something about all this.

Thankfully, we’re not doomed to accept a premature decline into debilitation, even if we can’t escape our daily desk-centric obligations. There’s a lot we can do to sidestep or reverse the health detriments of a day job. I’ve now spent 10 years working long hours at a desk, observing what these detriments are, and I plan to combine these insights with my experience as a personal trainer and athlete to find solutions that will help us all stay in peak physical shape for longer than we could have ever imagined.