A Strong Future

Someone once said to me, "Why do you train so much? You look miserable lifting all those weights." My reply needed to be prefaced with some background context because the answer to that question would sound truly pessimistic without it. I needed them to understand that my answer came from a place of philosophical optimism and not pessimism. I told them that I build my body up at the gym because my body is the only thing I feel like I own in this world. It's the only constant in my life that I know will be with me forever until I die. My loved ones, my home, my wealth, and even my sanity can (and will) be lost eventually. Everything I cherish can be taken away instantly, and I cannot control that. The one thing I feel in actual control over is how my body looks and, in many cases, how it performs. 

So why wouldn't I want my soul cradled in a strong fortress? This attitude came as a surprise to many people who saw me grow up as a chubby little boy with cheeks like rolls from Texas Roadhouse. Growing up, I was known for overeating. When I was 8 years old my father received a call from the neighbor. I had been at his house that day, playing with his son. He told my dad he was considering taking his son and me to Golden Corral and asked permission to bring me along. That was my first introduction to the concept of a buffet. At the time, we were relatively poor, so the idea of eating all you can eat came as a challenge to me, a sweet, delightful challenge. Twenty minutes after my first course, instead of walking up to get a fifth plate of Mac and cheese, I walked quickly to the bathroom with my chubby hands pressing against my lips. Once I was in the bathroom, I immediately went to the nearest toilet, where I proceeded to throw up an endless variety of food items I had absorbed so quickly and unceremoniously. When I picked myself up from the toilet, I took a few seconds to gather myself. Sweat ran down my left temple, and as I wiped spaghetti sauce from my lips, I thought, "Oh, good. Now I have room for dessert."

I am at the gym almost every day but hardly anyone knows that. I never got comfortable with the selfie. The word itself is cring-inducing to me. Posing yourself for a picture without anything meaningful or interesting in the background is so strange, but the internet is an abundant sea of selfies, and the worst type is the gym selfie. You know, the one where someone has an extra pump in the muscle, maybe they're in a shadowy environment where it looks like they are more muscular than they really are. 

As for me, I will keep my body to myself. And if the public sees my body recomposition, with all its muscles and striations, it'll be at the only acceptable place, the beach, as the Good Lord intended. Perhaps I'm being too harsh. I believe the gym selfie is a form of positive reinforcement to many. It shows results. Perhaps that's the motor that keeps people going to the gym and making better decisions. Vanity is an excellent motivator.

I don't take selfies at the gym, and I also don't talk at the gym. I didn't spend $400 on state-of-the-art noise-canceling headphones so I could talk to strangers about dieting fads and proper form. Besides, the people at my gym must think that I'm a weirdo. If I were a betting man (and I did have a gambling problem), I would bet that they must think I am a psychopath. And there's a good reason for that; I once read the entirety of Fyodor Dostoevsky's Crime and Punishment while walking in circles. I did that for two hours straight at the gym track for several weeks. I did that while wearing a 40 lb vest, although the book was heavy enough. The strangest part must’ve been the book cover as shows a man (Raskolnikov) wielding a bloody ax. I must've looked like a madman, but I didn't care. With so few hours in the day to read and get 10,000 steps, I needed to read and walk simultaneously.

I wish I could instill my drive for fitness into other people, but it's hard when I don't even talk about it. I learned a long time ago that fitness is a most personal journey. What works for me probably won't work for someone else. It may not motivate or change their minds. The only thing I am sure of is that fitness is a science; it's biology and thermal dynamics at its core, and because it is a science, it's inclusive to everyone who does it right. Results are guaranteed to anyone who follows the science and doesn't get sidetracked with pills or fads that promise a shortcut to a healthy life. As little as I talk about my fitness journey, I know that my results do most of the talking. 

That's not to say that I don’t occasionally indulge in the sweetness of red velvet cake or a sip of cherry wine. I eat anything I want because I know that food is not the problem; the problem is the lack of balance. To me there's no such thing as unhealthy foods, what’s unhealthy is how much you consume those foods. Food is life, and life should tast good. That could be another reason my friends and family need to learn about my consistent gym life. I don't go to the gym because I eat so much; I eat so much because I go to the gym. 

Some day, I will be old (ideally), and I'd like to know, in those later years, that I made an effort to be my best self throughout my life. Of course, I could get hit by a bus next week, and it won't matter how many pushups I did that morning. What matters is that I live with purpose, and what better purpose is there than to make yourself the best version of yourself possible?