I’ve always been a skinny dude. From the point of full-grown adolescence through my twenties, I maintained the same weight (give or take five pounds) and always bought my jeans at a reliable 30×30 size. Life was simple and my body was reliable. When I was in that sweet-spot zone between the ages of 18 and 30 I didn’t think much of my appearance. My hair was full, my abs were slim and my skin was clear as an egg shell. It was pretty sweet.
Once I crossed that threshold of youth to being middle aged though, something drastic seemed to change. The top of my head decided it wanted to be noticed more so it evicted a good portion of my hair. My belly began to expand like a water balloon, my lower-mid section began looking just like a pear. Worst of all my face went from youthful handsomeness to full-on Seth Rogen. Not that Mr. Rogen isn’t without his charms, but I was going for more of a Keanu Reeves style of aging. It did not work out that way. My body seemed to call it quits and my will-power went right along with it.
This is a pretty common thing. The dad belly is a wide-spreading phenomenon for guys hitting their mid-thirties who are spending more time on the couch than at the park. I know this isn’t specific to me. But I don’t want to just give in to it either because it “happens to the best of us”.
It wasn’t that long ago that my wife and I would work out regularly at the fitness center of our apartment. It was fun, challenging and a great way to bond together. Lately we seem to bond over Girl Scout cookies and House Hunters International. The thing of it is my wife looks more and more beautiful every year as she gets older, while I continue to morph into something Slave Leia would strangle with a chain. It’s not fair. So we’ve decided to do something about it.
After talking it over, Kristy and I made a trip to Second Wind and bought ourselves a treadmill. While being the parents of a toddler and working full time jobs makes going to the gym damn near impossible, we decided to bring the gym home to us. My goal is not only to go from Jabba to Lando, but to recognize that as I’m getting older, my body isn’t as invincible as it was only a decade ago. I don’t want to be tired every night when I get home, I want to be in shape to play with Elliott as he gets older, and of course I want to live a long and happy life with my wife.
So I’m embarking on a test of will power to spend less time running through the wastelands in Fallout and more time running virtual miles on the treadmill. I invite all of you reading this who feel like I do to take this challenge with me. Let’s see how much fat we can burn this year. It’s the perfect time, as the weather is starting to warm up and the days are getting longer. Let’s get off the couch, fellow fat dads and give our wives something to be less-disgusted by! Our belly buttons are in there somewhere, dammit! Who’s with me?