Sunday, November 17, 2013

A Model Woman

Spartacus and me in 2009
It's no secret that Spartacus and I are "into" being physically fit...that's probably what first attracted us to each other. It's a mutually beneficial interest. Now that both of us are over 50, fitness itself is becoming rather interesting. For almost two months, I've been dealing with a shoulder injury that's really kicked my ass. I suspect I was performing lateral flies with too much weight, and man oh man, the resultant biceps tendonitis has been a real bitch. It got so bad that I actually went to see the doctor about it. (For me to go to the doctor, it's got to be pretty bad!) The pain and limitation in range of motion in my shoulder weren't improving with rest and analgesics, so I started wondering if maybe I'd seriously injured my rotator cuff. Fortunately, it's just a raging case of tendonitis. Like all wounds, it'll heal. Eventually. In the meantime, I'm still struggling to raise myself up out of a freakin' armchair. 

WTF, Mary Dent?! Bitches puh-leeze!
I'm not gonna lie. This injury is totally cramping my style, and consequently, I'm finding myself becoming increasingly annoyed by seemingly innocuous people like Mary Dent, who at age 53 has unnaturally flat abs, unnaturally perky boobies, and equally unnatural willpower.

I recently installed new lighting in my bathroom, and part of me was honestly hoping that this nagging little bit of belly fat that I just can't seem to get rid of was an imaginary product of suboptimal illumination. Uh, nope. It's still there, only the shadows are a little less harsh now.

I asked Spartacus what he thinks about Mary Dent, and his opinion is that, like pretty much all the fitness magazine models, she's not only been airbrushed, but she's also spent about five grand on tummy-flattening fake tits. In other words, Mary Dent is an illusion. Although he reassured me that the dimply dumpling I see staring back at me in the mirror is an illusion as well, I'm still feeling ab-ravated. I've really gotta find myself some new bathroom reading material. This is especially true now that we're fully stocked on transparent ass-wipes, courtesy of Spartacus, who gleefully brought home two packages of Scott single-ply toilet paper, despite my explicit request for a twelve-pack of cushiony Angel Soft double rolls. Upon being questioned about this purchase, Spartacus responded, "One ply is fly." Sigh. From over-weighted lateral flies to gossamer-yet-woefully-ineffective single ply, I'm barely managing to get by. 

"Another year, gone with the wind!"
While we're on the subject of reading, I received the most beautiful 51st birthday card from my son, Rory. He recently went through a painful breakup, and we've spent quite a bit of time together over the past few weeks, talking about his feelings. I'm really proud of how maturely he's handled himself, working through his emotions by writing some amazing new songs. What he wrote in the card (pictured at left) was unexpected and so touching that I cried instantly upon reading it:

"This past year really has gone like poof! In the last 3 months in particular, they have zapped right by. I have realized even more why I appreciate you. You really are the best representative of a woman that I'll ever have. My standards for women have become so high because of you. Any girl I date has to have so many of the traits you have. You are the model woman for me to base my women on. You are the best mother I could ever ask for, and certainly the greatest woman I know. I love you, Mom!"

Rory, me & my belly fat, Nick, and Nick's girlfriend, Haley
Wow, talk about an affirmation! Who needs flat abs when your 23 year old son thinks you're a model woman? I believe I understand exactly what he was trying to convey. All he's saying is that he appreciates my unconditional love for him--the fact that I love him for who he is, just as he is--and that's the quality he's looking for in a woman. In terms of expectations, what he wants is neither unrealistic nor unnatural. As for me and my stubborn belly fat, the reality is that it's probably here to stay. I don't see a starvation diet or liposuction happening anytime soon. Even though I consider myself a model of fitness for my age, I'm certainly no Mary Dent. I'll just have to settle for being a model woman.