Could it be that sitting all day long isn't exactly conducive to a slimline figure? I wake up at 3, take a very, very short walk to the bathroom and pee. After which I take a very long walk all the way back to my bed. (At least I'm no longer the couch jockey I used to be prior to some lockdown I don't want to be reminded of, right?) So, after sleeping a very long time, I wake up at 6, switch on my laptop and commence that which I'm not a fan of. I read tons of research papers. Why? Because that's what I do for a living when I'm not teaching in an actual classroom. Somewhere along the line, I somehow lost track of the dream I used to cherish so much.... that of becoming a house husband. I kid you not. Back in the year 1990, right before the new Missus broke up with me (only to return 30 years down the line), said Missus told me I could be a house husband and raise six kids if I should choose so. Something tells me raising six kids will keep you busy and the good ole waistline thin or even nonexistent.
I could be wrong.
Could it be that being 54 doesn't help either? I once read that age comes with many perks. After 50 years of roaming the planet, most people will eventually get the hang of living and develop at least a semblance of wisdom. I know, you don't develop wisdom, but this is my blog and I like the poetry of how it sounds. Consider it a new collocation, you relentless grammarians and word fetishists. Can you spell "belly"? Well, I don't have to know how to write it when I can see the damn thing entering a room before my nose does. I've got a pretty masculine nose, so that's saying a lot. Eat your heart out, Liam Neeson! Did you know that your nose continues to grow throughout your entire life? That's quite a perk old age is giving me, but a big belly isn't one of them. Another perk is more money. Money to buy a beautiful couch. A couch that says, "Come to mama!" A couch to dream about climbing mountains and running marathons with my friend Jules. Being 50-plus comes with a lot of perks, but a big fat belly sure ain't one of them. I'm sure you can relate, but....
I could be wrong.
Could it be that the gym used to be my second home and now it's mentally burned down to the ground, and that's a reason my belly is growing but I'm not pregnant? In my defense, the gym used to be a fun place, but now it's not. At some point in time (not sure when exactly), gyms turned into gathering places for bubble lovers. What's that, you're wondering? A bubble lover is your typical Millennial who doesn't really care about working out because working out is hard work, but they do love their sweet little iPhone and won't hesitate to keep checking it while pretending to work out. They don't talk to other people. They rarely smile. They will have their earplugs in and momentarily reside in their own bubble. After all, talking to other people is scary. You never know, someone might be interested in pairing up with you while you're doing the good ole bench presses. If only they could do them virtually, right? So, no, gyms aren't as inviting to talk-a-lot people like myself.
I could be wrong.
Could it be I'm too lazy to diet? As I type this, the one and only original Missus is prepping her meal. Just between the two of us: she is on a diet. And with this diet comes a whole lot of hard work. For one, she needs to follow a ton of recipes that require a Ph.D. in cooking. I'm kindergarten level at best. Ah, she just walked into the living room, eyes focused on her latest achievement. I have no idea what that thing is on her plate, but she's certainly eating like it's her last meal. Something tells me I'll be in for a workout when she reads this post. One that involves running, so I might as well start locating my sneakers right about now. Between the two of us: I don't really own sneakers, but I'm entertaining the notion of buying me a pair. Consider it a first step to the gym.
Yes, I could be wrong.
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