We’re engaging in a fitness campaign here at Model Husband, but today’s story is a cautionary tale about what may happen when you (as a model husband) decide to exercise. Be forewarned.

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The other day I elected to go running outside. It was a fairly cold day, so I had to put on some running tights and a long-sleeve pullover (or risk freezing my pleasure bits off*). Normally when I go running in tights I wear shorts over the tights because, let’s face it, there’s really nowhere for a man to hide his lap hog in tights**. It’s just kind of out there for everyone to see (and snicker at).

Although I’m normally self-conscious about things like this***, I decided that I really didn’t care, and that I HAD to get this run in today (I had  beforehand pussed out on running for a few days). Besides, why be self-conscious when I have an enormous package^ it was really too cold outside for people just to be sitting around and gawking at my spandex-incased penis as I ran by.

So I go out for a longer-than-normal run. Despite the freezing the temperatures, the forthcoming sun brought out some people to enjoy a little walk on the canal of downtown Indianapolis. It marked the first time Indiana had seen the sun in quite some time.

I had been running for a while when I ran by a 40-something woman walking in the opposite direction. I paid no mind to her presence until I caught her feasting her eyes on my man-goods. It was a quite unsettling (especially since she was unapologetically staring right at it), but it was just one woman, so I treated it as an isolated incident and proceeded with my run.

Just as quickly as I had written off the eye-balling incident, I ran past a gaggle of women who were also walking in the opposite direction. Feeling slightly more self-conscious, I made sure to watch where their eyes were heading.

I had on dark sunglasses so I could disguise my line of sight, but it didn’t matter. Not a single one of those women were concerned with where I was looking. They were only interested in one thing; my penis. I saw each and every one of those 40-something women stare at my penis for an extended period of time.

WOW.

Now don’t get me wrong, I was flattered. I was flattered that these women were willing to risk getting caught just to stare at my package^^.

FUN FACT: If you want to know the true size of a man’s member that is the victim of temperature “shrinkage”, multiply the visual member length by 3,512 for actual length in inches and 8,780 for actual length in centimeters (DAMN YOU METRIC SYSTEM!).

That was about all I could stand. I was ready to stop my run, march over there and give those women a piece of my mind!

“HEY LADIES! I MAY BE A PIECE OF MEAT FOR YOU TO OGLE AT BUT HOW DARE YOU GAWK AT MY COLD-WEATHER INFLUENCED LAP HOG WHEN YOU COULD BE LOOKING AT MY SCULPTED GLUTES AND CALF MUSCLES!! GAWH!!!!! I WORK OUT SO HARD TO GET YOU TO NOTICE MY BODY AND ALL YOU WANT TO DO IS STARE AT MY UNFORTUNATELY SMALL WEINER!”

I would then sob and run away with my face buried in my hands.

That’d show them.

Isn’t that the reason people exercise? To look good naked and to have people imagine what you look like naked? That’s what I thought at least.

So even though those filthy cougars were all about getting an eye full of my pork sword, it at least felt good to have someone admiring my physique for enjoyment purposes^^^.

… or they were just looking at the butt of their next joke for that night during their mani-pedi-margi-marti party.

***

* NO THANK YOU.

** The same can be said for a woman’s cameltoe.

*** BUT I DON’T HAVE TO BE BECAUSE IT’S TOTALLY A NORMAL SIZE, OKAY?

^ LIE! LIE I TELL YOU!

^^ I would have felt better had it’s not been so cold that day so at least those women saw a truly representative image of what “it” looks like instead of the shrinkage-plagued member they saw.

^^^ Additional motivation for exercise!