It's More Than I Can Bare

Well, I've restarted my From Chunk to Hunk Quest. I've started my exercise regime at ACAC, a really great fitness center in Chesterfield County. I'll be telling you more about the center in upcoming issues of Chesterfield Living Magazine. This time i intend to stick with the program.
I know I said that last time, but this time I really mean it. I know I said I really meant it last time, but this time I really, truly do mean it. I didn't use the word "truly" last time, so, as you can tell, this time is for real.
I was helped, by one of the center's senior fitness guys, Chris Henry, to set realistic goals. One of the goals I didn't mention, and really didn't even think about until the first time I took a shower at ACAC, is to lose enough weight so I can make the towels they have there fit around my waist. I envy those guys who can tuck the towels in and walk around without fear of the towels falling off.
Not that I pay attention to other guys walking around with towels. Tim Allen wrote a book entitled, "Don't Stand Too Close to a Naked Man." I never read his book, so I don't know if he touched on this subject or not, but I take the philosophy a step further. My credo is "Don't Even Acknowledge the Existance of a Naked Man." Some of these naked guys in the locker room can stand around and chat it up with other guys as if they're fully clothed. I can't. I don't even nod at the other guys.
I'm not a fan of public nudity, even if it's an all-men's locker room. At home, I take a shower with my overcoat on. It's not that I'm phobic anything. I am just uncomfortable in a naked environment. I have to walk about 20 feet from my locker to the shower, trying to non-chalantly drape a towel over my body. I don't want to look like I'm uncomfortable about this whole thing. It's kind of like pictures of Adam and Eve you see in some children's Bible story books. They're always hiding the couple behind a tree or a rock or whatever. Well, I do the same thing with towels. I try to look as if I'm just casually carrying my towel, although, in reality, I may have spent ten minutes strategically arranging it. The towels are not so big. So, it takes real skill. I think I pull it off with aplomb.
The worst part is in the steam room, which I love by the way. But you get a bunch of flabby old men, and it sounds like a butcher shop with slabs of meat being thrown on the carving table, as we plop down on the ceramic benches. Then, you sit in this small, steamy room, sweating like a pig, and try to make small talk with a bunch of naked guys. It's not easy.
But, it'll get better. I'm going to lose the weight this time. (I really truly am) I'm going to be able wrap those tiny towels around me and proudly march through the locker room, holding my head high, which, come to think of it, is the best way to walk around naked guys anway.