Muffin-(s)top

This is a humor blog, and its main objective is to be funny. We’ve shared a lot of laughs over the weeks (at least I hope I’m not the only one laughing), but today we need to address something very serious. And that something is muffin-top.

Imagine yourself in the following scenario: you are getting ready to go work out at your local exercise facility. You haven’t been to the gym in, um, awhile, and as a result, those cute stretch pants you bought last January (you know, right after you made that New Year’s resolution to go to the gym every day) are a bit tighter than you remember.

You decide to wear them anyway because (1) you still feel guilty about how much you spent on them, (2) you’ve convinced yourself that the snugger fit is helping “suck things in” and “smooth things out,” and (3) the lateral accent stripe is the EXACT same shade of pink as your new sports bra. And your iPod Nano. And your Nike cross trainers.

So far, so good. Here’s where things go south: you stop in front of the mirror on your way out the door, giving yourself the once-over to make sure you’ve secured any fly-away hairs and removed any Cheeto residue from your face. You are so distracted by the task of eliminating any VPL (visible panty line) that you completely overlook the much more serious situation occurring in and around your waistband region.

You enter the cardio area smiling, shirtless and completely oblivious to the fact that everyone else in the room suddenly looks like they just watched a Nicholas Cage movie. (Hint: their wide-eyed, jaws-on-the-floor stares have nothing to do with your impeccable color-coordination.)

The disturbing thing is that this little series of unfortunate events, unlike a Nick Cage film, is a nonfiction story that unfolded before my very own eyes just a few short days ago.

Look, I’m not trying to launch a smear campaign against muffin-top. We’ve all been there at one point or another, whether we enjoyed one too many Saturday morning Krispy Kremes or just unintentionally shrunk our pants in the dryer.

I’m simply pointing out the fact that, hey, they make pink shirts too. I understand that to some people, matching workout apparel is of the utmost importance.

I would argue that my mental and emotional wellbeing is of equal or perhaps greater importance. Either way, I think a t-shirt is a pretty fair compromise to this issue.

So before you decide to bare your midriff for all the world to see, stop. Look. Assess. Learn to recognize the signs of muffin-top, and keep an emergency stockpile of wardrobe alternatives to use when necessary. Together, we can eliminate VMT (visible muffin-top) and help make gyms safer and more comfortable for exercisers everywhere.