Sunday, 5 July 2015

Back, crack and sack

Summer has finally arrived, bringing with it those long sweaty days and even longer sticky nights when you wonder if it might be nice to just sleep in the garden. The only things stopping me from doing that is the prospect of having countless big hairy spiders running across my face, and the possibility of waking up to find my feet being eaten by a fox.
With Summer comes a huge change in people's attire. Young women wander around in rather distracting short-shorts and very little else, which doesn't do the mind of the average middle-aged bloke any favours, while men often use the hot weather as an excuse to show the world just how geeky they look in shorts and a too-tight t-shirt that accentuates the carefully cultivated curve of their beer belly.
I've never been any kind of show-off, even when I did have a reasonable body. I suppose I wasn't bad even up to a couple of years ago because riding big motorcycles is a pretty good alternative to going to the gym. Not especially muscular, but reasonably toned compared to many my age.
More recently though, things have got a bit slack. I haven't been riding motorcycles or indeed taking very much exercise at all. As a consequence, there have been a few pounds added to my frame which seem to enjoy hanging around my middle and giving me the beginnings of a cleavage. I may have to invest in a training bra.
Fortunately I'm still within the recommended BMI range so the fight is far from over, and I just need to get myself doing a bit more again. Perhaps I should just get another bike - a proper one like a KTM 1290 SuperDuke R, not the standard mid-life-crisis Harley Davidson. Harleys are OK if that's your thing, but I prefer something that actually goes round corners.

The thing is, as well as all the rampant totty strutting around town at this time of year in full-on "Look at me, I'm gorgeous" mode, there's also a few blokes that take the opportunity to show off their gym-honed physique by posing around with no shirt looking all muscular, toned and shiny, making the rest of us feel ugly and inadequate. Bastards.
I know I'll never be like that and I never have been, mostly because I'm too bloody lazy to put in the sort of effort it requires to get your body like that and to keep it that way.
The one time I tried to have a hairless chest was too confusing because I'd look in the mirror and see a pair of boobs rather than nice smooth pecs. Since then I've fought to just keep body hair to an acceptable length. I'd hate to look like some sort of neanderthal gorilla, but at the same time I'm not built to be hairless. However, because nature has decreed that I must have a hairy arse, I have occasionally been tempted to go for one of those 'back, crack and sack' waxes, but given that the one attempt by the wife to wax my back at home resulted in a major outbreak of spots and ingrowing hairs, it's not an experience I'm overly keen to repeat.
It makes me wonder how these guys get away with all the body hair removal they do in order to show themselves off. Maybe it's better if you do it regularly, but to be honest I'm just not vain enough to want to go through all that, and getting a body to justify the effort is far too much like hard work.