Now if you are mechanically minded and think this blog is going to be an informative one about car type things you can stop reading right now. Unfortunately this blog has nothing to do with cars and everything to do with the spare tyre of flesh i am now carrying around my waist. I mean, what is with that, i know i am getting older but it was not there a few years ago and my life style has not changed that drastically in the last little while. I still run and cycle, eat fairly healthily and manage to keep my chocolate addiction under control most of the time.
And now that this spare tyre has claimed its spot there seems to be very little, apart from going under the knife, that i can do about it. The blasted thing will not budge. Low rise jeans which are pretty much what my wardrobe consist of are not really an option anymore as they squeeze the spare tyre up and out and the muffin top effect is not really one i am comfortable with. So it is either invest in a new wardrobe of high rise jeans, long flowy type tops which do not hug and accentuate the bulge or the delightful granny type underwear that end roundabout just under a persons neck holding everything in and making it difficult to breath.
And while i am moaning don’t even get me started on bingo wings, if i had wanted those i would have been a bird.
This aging gracefully thing is not for sissies.