I’ve always been a great believer in muscle memory, trusting my body would revert back to its former glory given a small amount of encouragement. I use the term “glory” loosely of course, I certainly wasn’t headed for Love Island, but after this last year, I’d say my muscles have a severe case of amnesia.
The reckoning came when my partner declared that I had a dad bod. There’s nothing wrong with this by any means, except that I don’t have any children as an excuse. Some people find dad bods sexy – he claims he’s one of them but I know he’s just being kind, so as someone who used to take care of his physical fitness and appearance, it was a bitter blow.
I played sport from a young age. I was ambitious on the school field, but had more of an eclectic than an illustrious track record. I endeavoured to find sporting prowess in a wide range of disciplines from rugby to hockey, cross country to swimming, with varying degrees of success but enthusiasm by the bucketload.
This physical start in my teens defined my body shape, but when I went to university and found sex, booze and partying, my sporting chutzpah dropped off a cliff. Having a relatively fast metabolism kept my weight down, but the only sport I did was running for a train or a two-for-one drinks promo at the students’ union.
Years of working in the media industry in London meant gigs, parties, launches and awards ceremonies. It wasn’t until I moved back to Hertfordshire that I joined a local gym and found that my love of training and sport was still there. Counteracting a hard-partying lifestyle was important and, of course, looking my best. Then middle age struck. With a much slower metabolism, I found that rich food and drinking a lot played havoc with my stomach as well as my bladder.
This was all exacerbated by the past year, when it was so easy to consume alcohol every day. The collective anxiety was palpable and it was easy to fall into the enveloping arms of inebriation. Shielding with my vulnerable family meant I wasn’t able to see my partner, a key worker, at all.
Being physically and sexually cut off was hard at first but by getting used to it, we found a deeper level of connection. The only drawback was that getting back to being intimate has been a longer journey than anticipated, with physical and mental hurdles we weren’t prepared for.
In recent months I’ve returned to running and the gym but found it a struggle at first. I didn’t even realise the changes that had occurred in my body. Muffin tops, sagging pecs and a thicker middle than ever before is not the look I want.
The feeling of sluggishness has been hard to shake but I can already feel a difference. Initially I was exhausted and achy as muscles I hadn’t utilised for a year started to wake up. I knew I had stomach muscles in there somewhere! My abdomen is already tighter and the reduction in alcohol seems to have worked wonders for bladder control.
Getting back out there means more than just feeling better about myself physically. I’ve remembered how much I love being active – doing things like skateboarding with my nieces or going surfing or paintballing.
It’s as if a mental and physical fog is lifting and while I might not be jumping back into my skintight gym wear just yet, the impetus is there. The dad bod remains for now but I take it in my stride. Throwing off a year’s worth of lethargy will take a little time but that’s one thing I have.
Just knowing that my enthusiasm has returned and that I’ve no doubt warded off a bout of gout is reason enough to press on with some improvements to a middle-aged body that I’ve come to embrace.
Both men and women can suffer from body image insecurities. It’s time to break the stigma, so everyone can enjoy life to the full. Find out more at tena.co.uk/men
