Every Dad has abs.
A bold statement perhaps and I know a lot of women are sneaking sideways glances at their partner’s beer belly and scoffing at this point but it’s true. Just ask him.
He’ll tell you he’s in good shape. If pushed he’ll go on to grudgingly admit that he’s let himself go “just a touch” but dismiss it as “just a temporary thing”.
You see males really can see their abs. Granted, occasionally they may be beneath a layer or two or fat but we can still see them. We know they’re there.
And we’re convinced they’re only a footy game or two with the lads away from coming back.
The first three years of the twins’ life I pretty much holed up in the house. It was such an effort to go out. Heck, it was such an effort to get through a day let alone finding time for me. Meals were eating whatever the girls didn’t or munching on a pack of rice wheels that were lying around.
As a result I didn’t sleep much and I put on 10 kilograms. And by 10 of course I mean 15. Or a figure in that vicinity.
But I always consoled myself with the fact I could get it off when I needed to. A quick diet, some exercise and I could drop that weight just like I did when I was 20. It’s a man thing. Our confidence is so strong it can become delusion without us even noticing.
A woman looks at her body and only sees the faults. She then magnifies them by a factor of approximately a million. We men look at our bodies and minimise the faults and amplify the positives. Even if those positives are actually from the timestream rather than the here-and-now.
The problem is we’re not 20 anymore. It doesn’t come off as quickly as it used to. Personally I blame the pretty bland fashion of today. The strength of 80s and 90s haircuts and clothing was you either pulled them off or lost 10,000 kilojoules through sheer embarrassment. If you don’t believe me then google “80s fashion”.
But robbed of neon colours and spiky hair what can I do today? I could go to the gym but who wants to be seen there when you haven’t got a gym body?
There are dozens of miracle devices advertised on television but unless I’m supposed to lose calories laughing at the ‘science’ behind them they’re no good to me.
It looks like I may have to resort to old-fashioned sweat: exercise and diet. I could even get a personal trainer because nothing makes feeling like you’re about to have a heart attack better than someone screaming at you to work harder and have that damn heart attack. I think my last personal trainer used to chase me with defibrillator paddles. I’m still not sure if it was incentive or precaution. Or perhaps a hallucination caused by oxygen deprivation.
The point is (there is one here somewhere) that it’s hard work having a good body. But to get one you need commitment, dedication and discipline and not just go to the gym because you paid for it. You need to give up sugar, run until you drop, be the best you can be, have the eye of the tiger and know the difference between core strength and cor blimey!
Or alternatively I could just stop caring what others think about my body.
Because I’d really miss sugar…