So for those that have read my blog for a while, this may all feel a bit familiar. In fact, I can probably guess what you’re thinking – “Oi, Dave, I recognise this blog post title. Are you so out of ideas that you’re now having to regurgitate your own content? You dick.”. Well, you’re partly right – particularly on the dick comment.
You see, last year I wrote about my desire to get fit(ter) and lose the dad bod. A need to return my increasingly doughy body to that of five or 10 years ago. That post was written with good intentions and it was 100% meant…but, stuff kind of got in the way. For a while, I ate a bit healthier, I cut out snacks, I increased the amount of exercise I did. As a result, the moobs and belly shrank as a bit of definition emerged from beneath the flab.
But old habits die hard. Slowly, the new regime made way for the old. Snacking returned – something I find myself doing more and more because I’m at home and the kitchen is just *there*. My new found love for trying different IPAs – yeah, I’m a proper hipster now – has seen my liquid calories increase. The amount of exercise I do has decreased – running on the treadmill stopped and some days, such as when Toddler L is at nursery, I spend it entirely sat at the laptop.
As such, it’s been no surprise to see that I’ve become a bit wobbly over the last six or so months. There were a few clues to be honest. (1) I started pulling my boxers up high in order to act like Spanx, (2) my stomach fat rolls started to sweat in the recent hot weather, and (3) I saw a couple of topless photos of me which were far from Page 3 worthy.
I know, I know, I’m sorry. I should have given you ample warning before releasing that dad bod close up on you. Now as I say, I saw that photo and was far from impressed. “Right Dave, you better shape up” I said to myself, as I attempted not to sing the final song from Grease.
I hardly have the worst physique in the world, I know that. It’s not like I have a load of flab to shed and am best described as ‘morbidly obese’. That doesn’t mean that I’m happy with the man tits, overhanging belly and dad bod though. Hell, if you look closely, there’s even red lines where I’ve been hunched over and the fat roles have left impressions. It may look like a six-pack, but I can assure you that it’s not.
OK, so what’s the point of this post? Well, I’m trying to give myself the metaphorical kick up the arse to do something about it. It’s all too easy to use the excuses that parenting gives you – “Oh, I’m too tired”, “I don’t have the time” and “she made me finish her leftovers“. Excuses are easy, taking action is hard. I know my body probably looks the worst it ever has, so it’s time to do something about it. Last year was a dry run. This year is the real thing.
I don’t think I need to do anything drastic to go from dad bod to rad bod – probably just two things. Firstly, I know I need to cut out junk food, particularly chocolate. That is my major vice. When it’s in the house, I’ll eat it all. Considering that I’m in the house a lot, that’s not a good combination. We just need to stop buying it, then I won’t eat it. Or, as we’ve done sometimes, the missus buys a pack of Bounty bars as she knows I hate them. Why the hell ruin chocolate with coconut?!
Next, I need to up my exercise. We now have a sort of home gym in the garage – i.e. treadmill and weights – so I just need to get my fat ass in there. It’s difficult when there’s a toddler, but I have naptimes, evenings and her two days at nursery. A few minutes a day is better than what I currently muster. Hell, I could even join in with Toddler L’s new found love for Cosmic Kids Yoga on YouTube.
Wish me luck! Have you noticed a dad bod since becoming a parent? Do you do anything in particular to avoid the dad bod? How do you juggle exercise, keeping fit and eating well with a kid? Let me know below!
Oh, and by the way, the featured image isn’t real – I know it’s difficult with my awesome photo editing skills.