There was once a time in my life where I harbored the pipe dream that I was going to somehow grow muscles and become really ripped. I used to envy all those buff, ripped guys because they seemed to get the attention of the ladies every time. You could visibly see the girl drooling and mooning over the guy. I wanted that, I wanted muscles, I did not want to get intimidated, I was going to be buff and ripped… Hehehe!!!! Like I said, it was a pipe dream. It was quickly flushed down the drain by hard reality. My genes betrayed me and left me without any hope; my vertical challenge and eating habits cost me the prize. I quickly realized I was going to look really deformed if I tried to put on the kind of muscles I had in mind. Goodbye to the adulation of the ladies, I was back to being anonymous and forever alone me. I decided to stick with my regular regime of pull-ups, sit-ups and push-ups. Carrying iron was going to be an occasional event. Goodbye big biceps and triceps, goodbye abs; in another life where I’m a bit more vertically endowed, we will meet.
I came to face the fact that muscular goons tend to get the most attention from the ladies. It‘s probably because they feel these guys can protect them at all times and let’s face it, girls like hard stuff, chest, abs and down below (This argument is however trumped, countered and rendered null and void when you have copious amounts of money. With this, you can steal any girl you want from these muscular freaks). The muscles give these guys confidence both in private and in public. Some goon can come up to you at the slightest provocation and threaten to slap you and you would do nothing because let’s face it, you do not have his kind of muscles. Intimidation is probably one of the top reasons why people get built up and ripped, modelling and girls are probably secondary reasons. For me, I found out that it is wisdom to be at peace with all men. If you cannot beat them or join them, make friends with them. At least, that would minimise the risk of getting slapped or if it happens, my guys would defend me (even though say, this life na westlife).
Let me not take it away from the guys though, I admire the determination with which they carry out their workout regime, not a single step is missing. To be that ripped, you have to be determined and ripped. I was absolutely wowed when I saw the steps Tom Hardy had to take to become ripped for his role as Bane in The Dark Knight Rises; it was no small feat. These muscle guys dedicate their and energy towards achieving a specific goal. They watch what, when and how they eat (some freaks are even strict down to the amount of calories they consume). They have supplements which help them grow and they burn out whatever they have gained in the gym. I have been to the gym a couple of times and I have come out feeling embarrassed every time. I see humans like me looking like gods carved out of stone. Abs of freaking steel is what these guys have. These guys carry iron, real iron not the play toys I deceive myself with from time to time. And once you start, you never stop. It possesses you, it takes over you, you never want to go back to being the old you, you want to feel in charge and in control, it becomes an obsession.
I used to be jealous of them for a while; their endurance was a motivation to me. The sheer look of determination on the face of a guy lifting his last set is something to behold. You see taut veins, stretched to their limit, facial muscles contorted with determination, the eyes portray a deep message of how you should never back down at the finish line and the words of his audience keep him going (You would never finish it if you were alone, you need a competitor or at least, an audience). But I stopped because I was lazy, I stopped because I did not see the point in killing myself, I stopped because it was not my calling. My genes have not permitted me to have such an obsession. I found out that I stopped visiting the gym and preferred the comfort of my room where I could freely exercise, I did my sit-ups, pull-ups and push-ups. So what if a guy was more ripped than I was?! So what if he was far bigger than I was?! So what if I looked like David while he looked Goliath?! So what?! So what?! Ahh… In the end, I finally lost my muscle obsession.