Okay, so I was home visiting my parents last week and weighed myself on two different scales. I was shocked to find that I weigh under a 140lbs. Between 135-139. What? Honestly, we are getting into the realm of ideal weights for ladies. Kind of emasculating. Sort makes me feel like a little slip of a thing, a baby animal on wobbly legs.
I do feel like I’m in decent shape…or at least thought I did until I accidentally stumbled upon my manorexia. As it stands, I am a fairly light healthy eater. Now I wonder if need to become a big eater, a little glutton. Must I begin eating at the calorically reprehensible IHOP? Shall I order half the menu and have them lay before me Belgian waffles, pigs in blankets, piles of bacon, sugary crepes, and a glass of whole milk. Shall I choose the toasty, sauce laden Quiznos over the responsible and affordable menu of Subway?
I know that I shouldn’t complain. Some people are struggling on interminable diets. My mom, God love her, has been on a diet since I became capable of conscious thought.
Yet as a grown ass man (emotional maturity notwithstanding) I feel like this weight is borderline pediatric. In boxing terms I would be a lightweight, super lightweight, or junior welterweight if I were in the IBF…but I am teetering into super featherweight territory, which is depressing. Featherweight? That is a weight-based slur. I realize that any actual boxing featherweight or boxer of any weight class, female boxer, or child in a tae kwon do class would cut me to ribbons, so no offense. Wouldn’t mind being a welterweight though, welterweight sounds neat.
For some reason I do list myself as 150lbs. if filling out a form that requires such information. I will continue to do so defiantly.
Fun fact: In high school I weighed about 160lbs. I had more baby fat then and an unformed chest. Back then my nipples were puffier and more “cupcake” like. I have a semblance of pecs now, so don’t even try calling me “cupcake nipples.” Things is, I don’t want any super skinny nicknames either. I vote no on “slim britches,” “Kosher toothpick,” and “Skeletal Fred.”
I feel a little bit like the tragic Tara Reid. Kinda like when she is on the cover of OK Magazine with the caption, “Too thin?”
Oh well, pardon the vanity.