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A few years ago our society had reached the pinnacle of socio-economic & educational efficiency, having fed every hungry child and guaranteed their learning proficiency to be among the highest-ranked nations in the world. So with all that extra time on our hands, somebody coined the term “Dad Bod.”
This label was apparently vital to the zeitgeist of shape-focused American Fitness Thoughts, to help define an otherwise-undefined man-body, that was somewhere between “Elite Road Construction Worker” and “Can Handle 2+ Hours At A 78F Farmers Market.”
The Dad Bod is a body form with the following characteristics:
- · Not overly-fat, like, not obese.
- By no means thin, like, not a skinny-skinny guy.
- · Muscular deposits in some areas, but not consistent from top to bottom.
- · Lack of mid-sectional parallelism; a bit+a bit more of a belly.
- · Bearded, or beard-curious. (see: “Lumbersexual”)
- · Was likely an active athlete at some point in his life.
More Seth Rogen than Joe Rogan. (I’ve met them both and they’re awesome)
More “Parks & Rec” Chris Pratt than “everything since then” Chris Pratt. (I love Chris)
Got it? Good. Let’s move on.
So then some folks came out and said, “Yo… not so fast, Mr. Not-That-Fat! Don’t think this is healthy, or a good look for men. Guys might fall into the gray area of being ‘skinny-fat,’ or some other thing we here at Abs Equal Immortality magazine, sponsored by Supplements For Your 15% Bodyfat Fat-Ass, and Gluten-Free Goodies; The Only Online Store With 100% GF Bakery Items.”
Wow… Okay… so…
· I had a body I was okay with. A work in progress, always, with different intentions.
· Some strangers with nothing to do labeled the body type I tend to carry around.
· Some other strangers came out and told me that it’s not a body to be okay with, while side-noting they have the cure for what ails me.
· And the feelings I had inside, the confusion, the incredulity, the “Your order of breakfast dicks is ready,” the moments of re-examining my struggles, and the anger… I had but a glimpse of how it must feel to be a woman.
No wonder women are so angry, all the shit thrown at them about their careers, looks, friends, sexuality, fashion… good lord…
I have 2 kids in elementary school. I work full time. I coach sports. I have a house to clean. I have friends to hang with. I have blogs to start writing and forget about. Sure, I could have abs and 12% bodyfat.
Or else most of everything else in my life that I love can just go on-hold until people I don’t know, nor care about, accept my body. Not that I’m not up for a challenge.
Something to ponder while I warm-up for this super-set of Goblet Squats, Bent Rows, Dips, and a ChocolateThunder Blizzard.