I had a decision to make, a decision which would have wide-ranging implications.

For a number of reasons, I had committed to paying close attention to the NBA Finals. I have slowly drifted toward pro hoops over the past few years. The quality of play combined with some really dramatic storylines in the playoffs had me hooked.

I made it through Game One with no problem. Well, that’s not completely true. The game didn’t start until 9 p.m. and went right down to the wire so I didn’t get to bed until around midnight. I generally get up for work sometime between 5 and 6 a.m.

Did I mention I had a couple of beers while watching that game?

They played the next game two nights later. I had managed to get decent sleep the night between games, but didn’t quite feel completely back to normal.

When the game tipped off, I gave in to my baser instincts. This was a Thursday night. I convinced myself I could stay up late, fight my way through work on Friday, and then catch up on my sleep over the weekend. They didn’t play another game until Sunday. I could pull this off.

I kept telling myself all of this bunk knowing full well I would regret the decision for several days. I would possibly give up staying up late on Friday and Saturday night for this basketball game. I didn’t know if it made sense.

Then I saw my window. Dwayne Wade hit a big shot and celebrated. The Miami Heat had gone up by 15 with seven minutes (in basketball time) left. I could sneak in a good 30-60 minutes sleep more than I had expected if I gave up on the game now.

But this was the NBA Finals. Weird stuff happens all the time. But this lead seemed almost insurmountable so I gave up and went to bed early. Of course, you know what happened even if you don’t care about basketball and didn’t follow the finals.

Dallas came back and scored a miraculous win. I woke up fairly refreshed on Friday, but beaten down by that decision when I saw all my friends talking about it online.

I hate getting old.

One of my superpowers has always been the ability to trade sleep for fun. If I knew I had some time coming up where I could catch a nap or take advantage of a weekend morning, I had no problem staying up late multiple nights with work looming.

Lately, I have found this harder and harder, especially if I want to have a drink or two while watching whatever game has my attention. I can usually pull it off one night a week, but if I want to stay up two nights, I pretty much need to schedule a day off or something to make sure I can function properly.

The timing really stinks because, as my daughter gets older, I actually have time to pay attention to more things, but my body won’t cooperate as much as I would like.

Did I mention that I hate getting old?