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Raising Gaybies: Intermezzo Is Over

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Raising Gaybies
Intermezzo is Over

 

It’s hard to feel important when you are a full time parent.

It’s the ultimate responsibility with the penultimate amount of recognition.

Your audience is 4 feet high, with the mind of a 7 year old.

Read more: Live, Love, Blend: Cinderella Does Not Live Here

Your stage is a ransacked house full of broken toys, sugary candy and stinky poop. Speaking of poop, your costume is what you woke up in yesterday, old PJ’s – and on any given day – you always smell better than you look.

Now you know why parents have issues with “self-esteem.” No matter how moribund your day is, self-adulation just doesn’t quite get you to the gym. Oh, and when the curtain falls, hopefully on not on your head, you are in bed, rode hard and put up wet – and that’s before sex.

Last week, to experiment with the ancient impulse of motivation, I decided to take a METCON class – to boost my aging body into shape. It is described as “Metabolic Conditioning workouts, or MetCons for short, are fast paced, high intensity workouts completed in a short period of time that will challenge your cardiovascular capacity, put your metabolism into overdrive and rapidly burn fat.” I walked into this class and met the instructor. He is a young 20-something man – with shaved armpits, 6-pack abs and the personality of a spastic rubber band. He smiled, like the grim reaper smiled before he cuts your head off.

Fifteen minutes into this cardio masochistic workout – I was dripping in sweat, my muscles from my ass to my ankles were “en fuego” — I barely lasted 30 minutes before I was either going to die or throw up my pancakes. And I really liked my pancakes.

Read more: The Doctor Is In: 5 Reasons To Do High Intensity Interval Training (HIIT)

But before I walked out of that cardio-prison – in shame, I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. Gone were the days of club dancing, techno-music, bar hopping, and staying out late. Gasp! I have become my parents.

I think I didn’t want the curtain to fall on ACT I. But you know, in that one lucid moment Ina frenetic day, I saw myself as a 48-year-old man, 2 kids, with a loving husband – and you know what came to mind? – ACT II begins now.

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