I’m a mid-level executive at a gaming firm in Las Vegas. When I turned 50 I had a small midlife crisis. Crisis may be a little strong. It was more like a two-year phase. Being that old made me realize my future was shrinking. The days behind me outweighed the days ahead. Time was limited, and if I wanted to enjoy what little time I had left, I needed to do it now.

Like any midlife crisis, I made some impulsive decisions. Some were good, some were, over the top. Carpe Diem.  

The first impulsive decision was hiring a personal trainer. Raul was his name. He was as intense as his accent. We worked out 5 days a week, cross fit styleIt was miserable; actually, I threw up on two separate occasions.  

I also started a low carb, high protein diet. To my surprise, the weight started falling off, and I could see my abs again. I couldn’t believe it. They still existed. I thought that 30 years of neglect caused them to physiologically merge into one doughy muscle.  But apparently I was wrong. They were only hibernating, waiting for their moment to wash clothes again (Get it? They’re a washboard, for washing clothes).  

Now that I had abs and a good looking bod to go with it, the third change in my lifestyle was my wardrobe. I firebombed my closet, and why not? Nothing fit now anyways. I took my daughter with me to the mall, got a Banana Republic credit card and maxed that baby out.  

I firebombed my closet, and why not? Nothing fit now anyways. I took my daughter with me to the mall, got a Banana Republic credit card and maxed that baby out.

I also did a few smaller things like tanning and teeth whitening. All these changes added up, and I was becoming like a beautiful butterfly emerging from his cocoon. But my midlife crisis lacked only one thing, the quintessential overpriced sports car. Always one to do things right, I went to the nearest Porsche dealership and signed a lease for a 911. I loved that car. 

So, end of story right? Stereotypical midlife crisis checkboxes all complete. So I’m done right? Not so fast. There was one last thing, one nagging detail holding me back from finishing my midlife crisis quest. That thing, was a double chin. Despite all the exercise, healthy eating, and weight loss, I still had a small amount of fat lingering under my chin. Not me, nor the Porsche, nor Raul could do anything to get rid of it. That double chin was stubborn 

10 years earlier my wife had some cosmetic work done. I thought “why not.” Nothing’s going to hold back this midlife crisis, not even a little chin fat. 

I went in for a consultation, and we decided to go with a treatment called Kybella. I have no idea what that means, but I’m sure the name was market tested to elicit positive vibes. I went in for five treatments and it worked! 

It’s crazy how a double chin can cancel everything you’ve worked so hard to achieve. Before the procedure I looked like a fat guy pretending to be thin. But now everything about me says healthy and fit”.  

That was all a few years ago, and now I can proudly say my mid-life crisis is over, and I’ve returned to sanity. It wasn’t all bad though. I kept a few of the good things from the experience, like a six packa defined jawline, and a new sense of confidence.  

The 911? No, I didn’t keep that. It was way too expensive. 

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