I'm not one to brag, but hey this is my blog so I'm allowed to brag. No one reads this blog but me anyway, so I'm practically bragging to my future self. Hey future flabby me, see this? Hah.
I'm a hypocrite. On one hand I detest those who go to the gym to attain that "perfect" body. I find that unashamedly shallow.
On the other hand, I love the attention I get about my body. In fact, it's safe to say I'm proud of it. I'm unashamedly shallow.
Admittedly, I've come a long way in self-confidence - I was a boy who stubbornly refused to join my brothers in the water park (even after having paid for the tickets and got past the entrance gate). All because I hated my skinny body. I felt people would stare and ridicule what is literally skin and bones.
Now, whenever I get in bed with someone the first thing they'll comment about is "God, those six packs. You must work out a lot." I'll be lying if I say I don't savour every word of those compliments. I seem to be the lucky one blessed with the 'good' genes compared to my brothers. Incidentally I happened to inherit the gay gene as well. Sometimes I'm not sure if I'm the lucky one.
But I digress.
Yes I've been trying to stick to a somewhat routine work-out plan, but with the work I have to do it never work out right (pardon the double pun). Still, I'm getting there. As much as I hate doing weight training, it is an important part of fitness and avoiding injury. I guess that's how I justify my own vanity and avoid detesting myself - it is not the body that I'm after, but actual fitness. Or so I try to convince myself.
Either way, I'm proud of myself. 10 years ago, I wouldn't believe I could ever say that. Life has a funny way of turning out, doesn't it.
In fact, I'm possibly dating two guys at the moment after years without a date.
And I've actually not had sex with either of them! Yet.
No comments:
Post a Comment