I had a feeling that blogpost title would catch your attention!
Firstly, it's important to note that -
Another Samson Society Intensive Weekend is fast approaching! You can find info regarding it here: Mens Intensive — Lifeworks Counseling. It is highly recommended, especially considering the fact that this Samson Society specific weekend has gained as much traction as it has.
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During Labor Day 2023, I found myself swimming in the Ross Barnett Reservoir (a sizable lake close to our home) with a new friend. His family joined my youngest daughter and me mid-morning there at the manmade "beach", and from there, we very much enjoyed the cool water through mid-afternoon. Throughout the majority of the day, he and I sat up on our knees beneath the muddy flow and chatted under the blazing sun. This was the third time we'd had the opportunity to do so since meeting providentially during one of our church's annual daylong mission endeavors. That early summer event required that we caravan to north Mississippi, and fortuitously, we ended up in the same vehicle for the +/-2-hour trek. This, I felt, was the perfect opportunity to interrogate.
This new friend & his clan are officially visiting Lakeside Pres, having grown up Presbyterian (mostly) in small town Mississippi. What I found to be so compelling about him initially was his selflessness. For he volunteered to join in on the aforementioned daylong mission endeavor sans knowing ANY of us Presbyterians. That, to me, was remarkably brave of him.
What stood out to me about our Labor Day at / in the Rez was how our bare-chested selves testified to the relaxed nature of our dialogue. Now, mind you, we didn't delve into heavy topics (taking our surroundings / lack of privacy into account), but we did do our darndest to "fill each other in" as to what exactly we'd been up to prior to our friendship taking root. Having come from very different backgrounds, this amounted to a sizable debriefing.
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Here in central Mississippi, the temperatures over the summer 2023 have been oppressively hot. That combined with zero precipitation (particularly the Jackson Metro) has made for an unusual three months of misery. To summarize, everything here has been thoroughly scorched / charred. Unirrigated vegetation (turf, shrubs) has long since died from heat exhaustion, and many smaller, understory trees have also succumbed to the relentless, stifling heat.
Now, it's important to note that our climate is not TYPICALLY unlike that of a tropical rain forest. Considering the amount of heavy precipitation we're accustomed to, combined with the lack of diverse topography / low elevations (we're relatively sea level), our forests are dense with towering / soaring conifers / hardwoods that aren't unlike God's own mid-rise skyline.
Hence, shade (often deep) is thankfully prolific and therefore not too hard to find.
As a twice-weekly runner, considering these 2023 brutal summer months, this shade has been my refuge.
There's a lovely Botanical Garden that's 1.5 miles from our abode, and it's served - for well over a decade - as my halfway "cool down walking spot" relative to my 5K runs.
This past Sunday (late afternoon), I found myself, once again, at this beautiful spot, having finished my initial 1.5-mile trek.
It's important to note that throughout this hellaciously hot summer, whilst running, no matter the time of day, I've been going at it bare-chested. And this is a big change for me. For I just have never felt comfortable running - in broad daylight - semi-nude.
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If I could properly describe for you how uncomfortable I was as a teenager relative to being bare chested, I'd likely do by sharing the following middle school tale:
An out of the ordinary scoliosis screening happened at my private academy during my 7th grade year. This consisted of our entire class of +/-45 students marching single file to the gymnasium for publicly executed physical examination of our spines.
The girls went first (perhaps within a separate room), each having their spines briskly examined (through their shirts / blouses), one after the other, via a small group of "scoliosis pros". From what I recall, there were no callbacks pertaining to them. Afterwards, they were sent to reside within the wooden bleachers overlooking the bare-chested 13–14-year-old boys as we took our turn.
And who might have been chosen for the only humiliating callback out of the 7th grade boys but Rob?
I recall walking past the middle school girls afterwards (I'd put my t-shirt back on at this point) and being asked by the sassiest of the bunch as to why I was called back.
I quickly lied by saying that "They'd made a mistake".
Immediately, my interrogator snapped back with, "No they didn't. You have scoliosis!"
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I wasn't an overweight or overly unattractive 7th grader. No, the issue was I'd become captivated by male bodies that were muscular, tan, hairy, and typically older than mine. Essentially, bodies of adult men who were professional-grade athletically built. These bodies became my idols, and I bowed to their whims via my heady (& very private) sexual fantasies with them. These private fantasies grew more and more ritualistic in light of their purveyance. As a result, what little bit of healthy outlook your average 7th grade boy might have dramatically diminished within Rob until there was not one iota left.
I don't recall anyone (peer or otherwise) ever labeling me negatively relative to my body, for we were all in the same awkward, middle school boat.
In the end, it was me unfairly punishing / labeling myself for something ridiculously unimportant / irrelevant. It's so unfortunate I had no one to step in and privately advocate on my behalf regarding this confusion. But, then again, how would anyone have known I was under such emotional duress?
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In closing, I want to bring us back to the present by finishing out my aforementioned tales.
I felt equal to Bryan (my new Lakeside Pres friend) as he and I chatted, waist-deep in the Rez. Though he's a decade or so younger than me, my 51-year-old athletic build didn't physically reflect that offset.
Bryan talked a lot of his father-in-law and how he's about to "un-retire" due to boredom. He described a man who's obsessed with looking / acting youthful (mostly via the younger company he keeps combined with a generous amount of hair dye).
As I recall this, I have to laugh.
For there I was with my thick head of silvering wet hair amongst a plentiful amount of similarly colored chest hair on full display. And I wasn't at all unwilling to own those physical attributes via appropriately putting them on display for both Bryan and anyone else within spitting distance to take note of / admire.
In fact, I would argue our bare-chestedness only solidified our friendship that much more effectively as we talked / threw the football, hung out there in redneck Rankin County on Labor Day 2023.
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Fast forward to last Sunday, (9/10) where I found myself, once again, at the Reservoir Botanical Gardens midday through my 5K run. You'll recall that I was bare-chested and super sweaty on that sweltering afternoon.
And lo & behold, who might I encounter therein but one of Lakeside Pres' elders who was there to walk his pooch around the .6 mile, deeply shaded loop.
Awkward.
This man is close to my age. He and his clan have paralleled ours through the years within our church.
We ended up walking together, and by the time we were onto our second loop, he divulged some of the most heart-rending portions of his story to unsuspecting, semi-nude Rob. It was uncanny. For never in a million years would I have imagined this man trusting me with said tales. Much less unannounced / requested.
When our walk concluded, we stood by his vehicle for a few additional minutes small talking. I could tell that he was having a difficult time there with my hairy pecs on full display. Hence, we affably parted ways, him driving away and me making a beeline to the adjacent fire station public restroom prior to my run home.
Bare chested has its benefits, for sure. Thanks be to God for how markedly different I feel about this as a middle-aged adult.
