My Pound of Flesh

I'd be lying if I said I didn't care about my physical appearance. I want to get ripped.

I've been pretty physically inactive for most of my life. As a kid, TV was my best friend and going outside to "play" was as bad as getting punished for a felony. I was the guy who miserably failed PE out of choice. I remember once my parents sent me to this summer thing for kids with nothing better to do during the day and it was torture. The other boys were all athletic and I hated sports and I would find any excuse to sit it out or hide in the corner with a book and hope no one paid attention. In retrospect, maybe I was just embarrassed by how cute they were and didn't feel like hanging out with them the way that boys, uh, hang out.

Suffice to say, I never, ever thought I would join a gym. A few years ago, during a real low point, just for the heck of it I went and joined. Man, what I had been missing. It's the best thing I'd ever done for myself. If I had started doing this in college who can say what might have become of me. The physical and mental invigoration I'm feeling now is like, all of the sudden I can take a clean deep breath for the first time. Anyways I could go on and on about the benefits of exercise but it should probably just be common sense right?

It's a double-edged sword for me, there's also some damn fine guys that frequent my gym. I've had to exercise some stealth and more concentration than usual. Not being used to so much prime beef in, well, the flesh, I've caught myself staring. The rhythms, the motion, the grunting and sweating. It is inspiring, and new and really a bit dangerous for me. I've almost had a few catastrophes on the treadmill when I don't concentrate on what I'm doing! And my *ahem* fantasies have become much more, informed shall we say. No skinny waifish guys for me, give me a healthy bundle of toned muscle and I'm a happy jack in the shower. Makes you wonder who's looking at you out of the corner of their eye... although I'm sure no one is looking at my out-of-shape bod. The other thing I noticed is that none of the built guys my age use the locker room. At least none that I've seen. But then again I'm pretty shy and would probably never use the locker rooms either...

Then most of last year I had to give it up for cash flow shortage. Due to other things in my life last year, during that time I got extremely depressed and lethargic so my wife told me for the sake of maintaining a semblance of life that I should try and join back up. It's only been two weeks and already I feel ten times better. Today I go back to see a trainer at the gym, I call him X-man. He's awesome, built and strangely I don't have a crush on him. I probably respect him too much because he knows what he's doing. He also kills me in my workout, but it's an acceptable death.

In approximately eight months, I will be 28. I figure by that time I should feel 28 instead of 58. Let the countdown commence.

Peace,
Simon