Junto A Ti Creo Que Aumente Mas de 3 Kilos....maybe 10

This was not supposed to happen to me. I do not know where I went wrong. People told me it was inevitable but I never believed it. Yet here I am. Fallen victim to this disease. I look at myself in the mirror everyday and all I see is disappointment. My parents say my son is exactly how I used to be as a kid. Very active, full of energy. He is involved in gymnastics and baseball. He loves to run and can spend hours at the park. Before having him and settling down, I, too, stayed busy with activities and sports. Soccer, wrestling, boxing, weight lifting, running, the gym. However, everything changes once you become responsible for another life. Free time is harder to come by and naps are always desired. Being a part-time dad (hopefully that changes soon) is exhausting. Being a full-time dad (more on this in my next blog) should only make me spiral down deeper into this horrible disease. Unless I do something about it. I hope to look in the mirror one day and no longer see disappointment. What is disappointment? Love handles and big cheeks (both kind). In case you have not caught on, I suffer from what many men have been suffering from since the dawn of time. I have a DAD BOD. John from six years ago would look at present-day John and be devastated knowing that one day he would be shaped like George Lopez during the early years of his TV show. I have never been one to toot my own horn, but pre-kids John was not bad on the eyes. I managed to sweep my Gordis off her feet almost immediately. I softened her up with my looks and reeled her in with my charm. But now, all I have left is my charm. But what good is having great customer service if your store is a chubby 31 year old with as many chins as he has kids. Don't believe everything you see on television. WRONG! I should have seen this coming. TV prepared me for this yet I ignored the signs. I always felt sitcoms were unrealistic the way they usually had a good-looking wife with an average, sometimes overweight husband. King of Queens. The Simpsons. The Fresh Prince of Bel Air. Family Guy. Now here I am. Another Peter Griffin. That really grinds my gears. I'm a big believer in personal responsibility. But not with this. I blame the Motherland for its delicious food. The wife for her delicious food. And my kids for being so damn expensive and needing to eat everyday. But I am making this promise: I will shake this off and get back to a weight where I look and feel great. Maybe I am being a bit too dramatic. Maybe I should relax. Once I start rocking the mom jeans then I'll start panicking. Until then, I will begin my body transformation. If all goes well I will probably become a famous Instagram model and travel the world and leave it all behind.