So some might ask where I’ve been since my last blog post two months ago. Well there’s one solid answer to that elusive question. I’ve been getting buff. Working out. Sculpting the guns. All day. Everyday.

I’ve told a number of people about the summer challenge. A few weeks before spring semester at Cal came to a close, I proposed a challenge to the dudes on my floor: whoever could get the buffest over the summer, I would buy an entire pizza for to undo everything he did. I’m sure everyone took it to heart. I figured Dan the Bear would be the stiffest competition since he could already out bench me by… double. But it was a “most improved” sort of contest so I figured I had a chance. If Bister or Fatty worked out religiously they probably could have got cut real quick since they both weigh a buck twenty-five but that would mean them working out religiously which at least for Fat would be next to impossible.

So I set to work. Ish. It was more a kind of guilty make-up ploy for all those Top Dogs (tm) and Gypsy’s Calzones (tm) over the past school year. I told everyone at home jokingly about my challenge. It was one of those “qual” (a phrase my brother coined, just watch you’ll start using it every chance you get) stories you reserve to tell every single person you’re reunited with so you can seem exciting and intriguing right off the bat. Nonetheless, it seemed like everyone was gunning for me to win the challenge.

Faceface started to call me every day to go on cramping Altitude-Sickness-Inducing-Runs (ASIR); my Dad started making sure I was lifting three times a week… He had been in the habit of making my mother and him fresh juice with his Birthday Present Magic Bullet (tm) and he even started making me a batch each morning. I would soon find out he was slipping Protein Powder into my smoothie. I had even taken embarrassing “before” pictures that I discretely hid in my laptop, so if you ever search through my hidden files you’ll find some moderately embarrassing shirtless photos of me not flexing in the mirror.

But the quest for a ripped “bod” was good no doubt. Summer workout sessions made you feel like those movie stars that just get paid for two months to learn how to sword fight and get ripped so they could make an awesomely bad action flick. I even watched the making of 300 where the guy said they would engage in 3 hour workouts, twice a day, 6 days a week for 3 months… not to mention the bench pressing between takes while filming. I was on the road to getting huge.

If you ask me in real life I’ll tell you I’m a freaking beast of a man with giant muscles on muscles. But to be perfectly honest I’m not that ridiculous. Though once again, I’ll never admit that in person.

Nonetheless, it was odd, my habits really did start to change. I was on vacation in Vietnam and I started going crazy after not working out for a few days. I was used to this sweet one track routine in my Colorado home—work out, eat well, summer job, and this vacacion was totally throwing me out of whack. I actually started caring what I was eating. It was one of the most disturbing, slightly depressing, “qual” changes in my esteemed 19 year life thus far.

I had already Wikipedia’d “How to Get a Six Pack” so I was eating fruit for extra fiber, drinking plenty of water… At the same time last summer I was downing those chocolate chip cookie sandwiches like there was no tomorrow while washing it all down with three Blue Koolaid Jammers (tm). But this year… when I hit 2 of 5 ice cream cookie wheels… I felt guilty. Of course I still did it but hell, I felt kinda bad—like every bite was taking a chunk out of my carefully chiseled physique. It’s depressing really, losing that carefree, shove your face adolescent attitude. Nobody wants that, it’s one of those things your parents said would eventually change in your life and you never believed them, but kaboom, there it happened (e.g. not dancing like an idiot, not waving at strangers from the car window, not making loud “woo” noises in public areas).

Nonetheless it is a change for the better I have to admit and in some ways I hope I don’t recede back into my old ice cream shoveling ways. The goal is to lift twice a week while at school—I’ve already cast away prospect of maintaining cardiovascular endurance so I figure it’s a reasonable goal.

But who would’ve thought, one second you’re just trying to get “cut” and the next you’re growing up. At least my triceps are huge.

Labels: fitness, health, top dog

This entry was posted on Tuesday, August 14, 2007 at 7:24 PM. You can skip to the end and leave a response.