As my most recent post details, I’ve had some health issues of late that have compounded or correlated with a lackluster libido. Thankfully both the health and the libido issues are being resolved — I’ve been off antibiotics for nearly 48 hours and am starting to feel a slight increase in my energy levels — and I can get back to my sexy self.
But what is my sexy self?
As a former athlete who now resides in a non-athletic body, I often times find myself fighting the disconnect between the way I perceived myself as sexy when I had nary an ounce of body fat and had stamina for hours of continuous rigorous exercise versus the current state, where my midsection is protruding more than I’d like and I can’t even walk 5 flights of stairs without getting winded. My body and my mind are not in agreement over my current state at all, which often leads to silly things like me thinking I really can run after the kids at the park without killing myself.
This past month, in which I’ve stayed in two different hospitals, has led me to resolve to change my lifestyle, which in turn will (I hope) lead me back into My Lifestyles.
Greetings, SINful Friends! Today I bring a public health and safety awareness message. If you’re looking for a sexy post or detailed recounting of sexual, move along. Or read to the end and see if I work something in. You never know.
Over the past 6 months to a year, Mrs. AP has noticed a continual waning of my sexual appetite. While many psychologist, and even more married couples, will attest to the fact that interest levels wax and wane throughout a relationship and that sometimes two partners will be on very different sexual planes of existence, this drop in my interest levels could be considered precipitous. The playfulness, the kinkiness, the embrace of all things orgasmic, had faded into boring, vanilla, infrequent sessions that were usually just a few short minutes of foreplay followed by a less than impressive coupling before I finished and rolled away for cleanup. Mind you, I felt completely satisfied by these sessions, but I knew we were missing our … something.
In the middle of August, we moved out of the rundown (and, as we’ve since discovered, ridiculously moldy and likely illness inducing) house apartment in the Tampa Bay area and moved to a brand new apartment in Orlando. At the end of August, I was hospitalized.