When yours truly graduated high school he weighed sixty pounds less than today. From the photo, we can probably guess that it would be even more if I had a decent haircut. A sixty pound variance is not a big deal... if you're nine feet tall. As it happens, I am only average height. Barely.
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While loading recent photos, I was doing some post editing. Standard fixes. One person had something on their face, part of a picture frame was erased to make the background simpler, a smudge needed to be removed from a shirt... and my belly needed to be pushed back a few inches. Wait a minute! Since when is a virtual tummy tuck standard?!
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The next day I stood to wait for something, and as my body went at ease, I discovered that I had interlocked fingers resting high on my belly... while standing! I can't recall anyone except pregnant women standing like that. We're talking about late in the third trimester, by the way.
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It's not that I'm not in shape...
round is a shape.
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It is time to declare war on my pudginess. I have no delusions about returning to the body I had at 18, but I look at it this way. Imaging carrying a 30 pound bag of sand all day. If you could lay that useless burden aside, wouldn't you? That's what I'm going to do.
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Speaking of youthful bodies... check out my impressive physique from 1966...
Happy Independence Day! It is now past ten o'clock, so please let's all be quiet and get to sleep.
This second photo was kinda funky. I must have jiggled the tripod. It was an accident, but I like it anyway.
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