When I said a couple of years ago that I’ve been losing passion in writing, I meant it. I have loved sharing my thoughts until I realized that only I enjoy them, so I kinda locked them in and amused myself. Don’t get me wrong: I still wanted to write. Many times, I would come up with a topic and the view of this draft page with me writing appear in my head and think, “Man, that would be a good piece.” Unfortunately, it would take a bit of effort for me to pop out my laptop for my best typing experience, and using a phone to compose a blog doesn’t feel right.
I’ve been well the past months–better than I was last year. I meant to write about my mental struggles back in 2022, but I guess I didn’t have the luxury to do so. I was busy. But, let me tell you, oh so few of you ladies and gentlemen (if there is any of you out there), I. broke. down. I never thought I would, but it was one October night and we had a lot of drinks, and my first ex was asking me to get back to him half-jokingly and half-meant. It was probably the alcohol and his constant beseechment that opened the dam of grievances I unleashed like a flow of tsunami for like half an hour. The following day, we did a little review through the CCTV recording, and I couldn’t listen to how high-pitched I was and how I gesticulated too much. But, yeah, there I was: bawling my eyes out about how unfair life has been to me, how terrible I saw myself lately, and how I always felt not good enough. It went on for like half an hour or so: I’m not exaggerating when I said it was a dam of grievances. What I can remember the most was when I said that, I think the reason why I’ve been so into working out in the gym lately is it’s the only thing I feel like I can do kinda well these days. And, that hurt me even more because one, I’m only mid when it comes to my workouts and two, I’m not totally toned because I’m not going on a proper diet and my body fat still dominates.
That has always been the main event of my days for the past two years: working out. I started back in November 2021, and I have already switched three gyms already. Before this, I had been an avid runner. When I got home from work, I would gather enough strength to change clothes and kick the pavements around parks five to six times a week. I was also doing intermittent fasting that I developed a habit of feeling no hunger at nights. With those two and a good amount of stress, I lost more than 10 kilograms, and I was not chubby nor skinny before, but this left me looking like I was sick. People would ask me if I was okay and I got tired of explaining what I do so at times, I would joke about doing drugs to end the conversation because I knew they sort of wanted to tell me to get myself checked if I were sick (which I wasn’t!). It was then that I decided to hit the gym.
My coaches recommended me to do some dirty bulking because I was skinny as fuck and I needed some body fat and strength to be able to handle those dumbbells (etymology 101: it was called a dumbbell presumably because in the early times, it looked like a bell but without a sound, making it “dumb.”). I also started taking some supplements until I had a bulging neck a couple of months later—-it had nothing to do with the supplements, but at that time, I just avoided anything I felt that could have made my lymph nodes swollen (one of the many grievances I had that night of the break down) including that protein drink. I did gain some weight though, and I started to see progress in my shape. I wasn’t lanky anymore: I had delts! My arms were beginning to bulge, and I wasn’t a straight line anymore. I had curves, man. In retrospect right now, I still didn’t really look that fit or as fit as I thought I was, but it was probably because I did start having a shape.
There was a time in my life when I laughed about guys who post too many gym selfies and mirror shots with their bodies, but I get it now. I started taking too many mirror selfies; it’s a form of journaling. A self check. A progress check. My social media friends obviously find it exasperating that I post my mirror selfies in my Stories almost every day, but if you’ve never seen yourself develop better physically before until today, you can’t help but take a shot and share your satisfaction to whoever cares. Once you see them delts popping out, that cut running down the middle of your chest and the way it puffs visibly on the shirt, the hard swelling back you never knew you needed, the bulge on your biceps and triceps, the butt you have never seen exist before, and the thighs and calves that have finally given shape to your former bamboo legs, you’re gonna want to have to capture that. You’re gonna want to look at that and compare your past self to see how far you’ve come. You’re gonna want to share that joy, that pride, that satisfaction to people who may care.
Nah, I don’t think I am that fit. I still have some way to go, and I haven’t even tried cutting or following a strict diet. I did try for a time, but it required effort and so many other factors. But I never stop trying to get better. To up the weights and try other workouts. It’s been two years, and yes, I know I am not that kind you’d call “ripped.” However, I appreciate the looks that I have been getting lately when I walk in the streets. Not only that, but I’ve also earned the attention from different people and even “online famous” guys. I mean, I am not that good looking, but I take it as a compliment.
Working out really did wonders. It also somehow made me appreciate myself a little more than before I had my break down. I started to like how I look, and people also say the same. Plus, I forget all the stress and have my mind relax when I’m at the gym. The exhaustion in working out feels good, and I get to be alone with my music on and my own thoughts. And then, I get to be sexy afterwards hihi. So, all I can say is that for the past year, I’ve been better thanks to this. Things have gotten better a bit even though I am still on a rocky road.
But it still is a progress.
Everything Eric 