Man Pregnancy

My whole life I was warned that my metabolism was a gift of youth and someday I would have to work to stay skinny. This year I started the final phases of my "second puberty." This one is not nearly as fun as the first. There are a few good things about "second puberty." My sex-drive has normalized to levels at which my brian functions are no longer impeded by constant adolescent horniness and

 I have shed much of my boyishness, that got me carded for PG-13 movies way into my 20's.

Most of what's going on with my body is evil though. Ten years ago I was excited for new found hair and sweat glands, but I thought it would end. Sprouts have started on my back and chest and my nose hairs need regular attention. I feel all the aches and pains my youth and I really enjoy a good sit, where I once would have happily stood. The worst part though is that I'm getting fat. I didn't think it could happen to me, I was such a gangly kid. 

I think it would be too simple to blame beer. I do drink a lot of it, much more than anyone should, but I think it has a lot more to do with the lack of exercise. I have begun casually exercising and I must say, it's a lot harder once you've put on some weight. The burn is no longer a good burn, it's a fiery pain that starts deep inside, and radiates through your fat slowly. When I do sit ups now it feels like someone wrapped a wet blanket around my waist. 

I feel a bit like a traitor to my values. I always used to mock "gym people." I thought they were vain, paranoid, a bit boring. Going to the gym seemed at best fun in a masochistic way and at worst a waste of time and money. I see people run down the street in spandex while I was eating an ice cream cone, and I always thought they were stupid, but now I realize, that they will never have to feel like there is a baby clutching their waist when they sit up, and maybe that privilege is worth their idiotic sweat obsession. 

I have a natural rebellious urge to resist criticism. When people started telling me that I was getting fat, I first ignored them, or even celebrated it. I told them I was growing into my new body type, and that I looked good a little heavier. I scoffed at suggestions that I eat healthier or drink less. I resisted invitations to exercise, out of a sort of righteousness. Then I remembered how I used to look at fat people and then put myself under that scrutiny. 

I am lucky. As a jerk who derives great pleasure out of insulting people and joking about the weaknesses of others, my weaknesses are thusly treated with scathing honesty. If I were nice, it could be years, maybe 50 lbs. of flab, before anyone mentioned my weight gain, but being a smart-ass, I was alerted to my problem almost instantly, by everyone, and with all due disrespect. 

I am also lucky to have the ability to admit when I am wrong, and try to change. So now I must change.  I am looking at the last couple years of my life, the after-math of "second puberty," as man pregnancy. Instead of having a baby at the end, I just shit twice as much now. That's just what I do now. Now I have to lose all that pregnancy weight. I've thought about getting some Jane Fonda VHS's and cutting back on eating things that come in foil bags.

 I'm not giving up beer though. That would be too far, that would be letting the nay-sayers win. Without beer, I would probably sit on the next person that called me fat.