Five-for-Five

I joined a new gym last week and have managed to go there every day since. The streak will probably end tomorrow when I go play golf with my dad but if I continue to work out regularly, that will be better than I've been doing.

Which is not much.

My old gym closed at the end of October. I have some dumbbells in the house that I can use but it was too easy not to and I can't afford that any more.

I'm old.

If I thought that I looked much younger than my age, which is high enough that I don't freely reveal it any more, my misperception was corrected my second day at the gym when one of the trainers asked me if I had a son who worked out there. Another member looked a lot like me, he thought.

Later the alleged offspring shows up to work out and the trainer points him out to me. He's at least 25 years old! And I look old enough to be his father?

Yikes.

Equally disturbing was how quickly I lost my fitness during my month of inactivity. I am a tub of goo. Oh, there are still muscles and veins in my arms still make an appearance when doing curls. But much of the rest of my physique appears -- how shall I put it? -- well insulated.

The look is not flattering, judging by my appearing to be old enough to have sired a 25-year-old.

The upside of my outsized outside* is that I don't have to shave my legs. No kidding. An alarming number of guys at the gym don't have any body hair. They don't appear to be doing chemo, unless steroids count.

Does that make your hair fall out?

But all the shavers sport lean and muscles under their smooth skin. Even the sales guy who signed me up for membership lacked arm hair. He looks like he works out a lot too.

That's key. There's apparently a level of fitness required before you join the Hairless Club for Men. A level I am in no danger of immediately reaching.

* I'm not that fat. Probably 185 lbs, which is probably 20 pounds away from six-pack abs and the requisite body shaving territory.