At what age do men stop with the “hyper macho” routine?
I mean, really; there comes a time when women are no longer impressed, other men don’t care, and the most plausible outcome is you’re going to hurt yourself doing something dumb.
Before you think I’m talking trash about someone else, I’ll come clean; the question is rhetoric; I’m referring to myself. What makes this mystery more opaque is I’m not even a “macho” kind of guy; I’m more the “sensitive, touch-feely” type. After all, I watch Glee, I own several pair of shoes, I accessorize, eat tofu, and, truth be known, I’ve been know to shed a tear or two during “chick flicks.” (But I’ll try and hide it.)
Recently, I joined a gym so I could take Zumba classes.
(By the nature of the fact that the driving force to enroll was to attend Zumba instead of weight lifting ought to tell you a little something about my “macho score” also.) While examining the schedule, I noticed a Yoga class that fits in my day. I’m feeling a bit soft around the middle and stiff along the edges so I consider attending. (Yoga? Yikes! Yet another telltale sign of non-machismo…)
Admittedly, I was a bit put off — and intrigued — by the title of the class: Yoga for Stiff People. I mean, from a marketing point of view, it’s perfect. It sets up an image and it tells you what to expect. However, from an I’m an-aging-guy-who-lives-in-denial-and-refuses-to-admit-that-I’m-getting-older perspective, I considered it too easygoing. After all, my veins are coursing with testosterone, you know? I need a “challenge.”