I know, I know, this isn't news. But jeepers, it's gotten worse, am I right? I think Madge has finally done it; she is now freakier looking and more buff than Iggy Pop. And that's sayin' something. As a largely inactive sloth-type human, I used to admire Madonna for her athleticism and drive. However, as she ages and becomes more and more comprised of straining tendons & bulging muscles, I am starting to think that there is an argument to be made for softness.
I am 100% sure that when (God willing!) I am 50 years old, I will look nothing like Madonna. For one thing, I don't plan on having Botox, face lifts, or chemical peels, so I'm pretty sure I'll have the standard lines and wrinkles going on. Also, I don't see myself becoming a triathlete or using steroids any time soon, so most likely I'll have some (more) junk in my trunk and arms that look like they belong to a woman and not a cartoon superhero. So I've got that going for me, which is nice.
Ok, enough about Madge and her scrawny man-arms. I really do need to start working out again. It has now been a year since I went to the gym with any sort of regularity. That doesn't count the spurts I'll sometimes have when I'll go for a week or two and feel awesome about it and have visions of being super in-shape and toned.... Until I get bored or my mp3 player repeats the same songs too many times and I get pissed off so I stop going (true story). My weight is stable in a not-horrible but not-great gray area that matches my whole laissez-faire attitude pretty well, but I do have visions of finally shedding those 15 lbs I've had since... well, forever.
But anyway. I'll stop now, because I'm getting depressed. The good news is that I can still race my kid when we're running for a water slide, I can still climb the 4 flights of stairs to gain access to those slides, and the ol' bod still does alright under most circumstances, even if I do feel it more the next day.
So I'll STFU now and count my blessings. At least I don't have man arms.