from the endomorph:
it’s pouring in cape-town.
the rain is coming down with the kind of effort that i have been trying to achieve at gym.
it’s only 3.36 in the afternoon but the charcoal grey of the sky has kissed the day with darkness.
the wind outside cutting from all sides.
even though it’s gloomy and cold with that real “twilight” glampire’s gonna jump you at any moment feel,
i am feeling kind of chipper and toasty inside, though even typing is a sore story as my arms are completely fatigued after today’s workout.
who am i to say what is “worth” it and what is not?
“worth” is something that only becomes sensible when an individual attributes value to the factor.
i am not able to tell you if pushing yourself in the gym will be “worth” it to you or anyone else for that matter.
i have only recently been able to attribute “worth” to gym-ing myself.
this may be because in general i felt completely “worthless” as a person.
no, not because i was severely overweight, that was merely the product of my emotional state.
i felt worthless because i stopped attributing “worth” to myself in comparison to others.
that was the nr.1 probable cause to a lot of my thinking, attitude and behaviour towards food, excersize, business and individual creativity.
i have had this illness since childhood.
roots so deep you need a forklift to just get through the first 100 layers of dirt.
so whats the endomorphic point to the babble ….
well just this, even though it is a pain in the ass and most of the rest of my body to keep on going, i have made the smallest connection to a very disconnected relationship with my body.
discomforting as it may sound to the sane of mind, … stretching your muscles to a place where you have never ventured to take your body, muscles or mind before, awakens a link between the physical and spiritual bodies.
it is as if small electrical currents are being blasted between the two whilst experiencing pain or extreme physical effort.
sounds very S&M i know, but for myself personally i cannot imagine separating the two whilst at gym.
for fek sakes it sounds all very fungi … but ja … it really is a reality shock.
as numb as i have felt as a living humanoid amoeba over the past year, so detached from my body that it was as if i was in a permanent state of astral projection, so connected i feel when i am aching like crap after gym.
so for me, i attribute “worth” to gym because one is forced to count on yourself for a result.
i have been forced into connecting with my physical body, drawing from the mental and spiritual at the same time, some days just to make it through the door.
i would not have been able to persist if i could not attribute any “worth” to the experience.
i don’t think it’s worth it to do anything if one is not able to attribute “worth” to the action as the reaction will be “worthless” and i would dare to say even damaging in the end.
for anyone who ever reads my babble please know that this is not a blog about trying to convince anyone that going to gym will save you from anything in particular, or that it is life changing or even that you need to ever go at all !
this is a blog about changing a life, using gym as the only thing i could think of at the time.
and it is also a way to tell myself the things many a lost friend had spent countless breaths trying to tell me before.
sometimes when we say it to ourselves, only then do we start listening and paying attention.
if it is skydiving that works for you or swimming naked in the arctic, then may all the gods poor their blessings on you, as long as you know that it is better to try something than it is to give up on everything.
i would love to say happiness can be found watching porn and jerking all day, but it seems like sometimes you need to get out there in the real world and kick the bastard in the face.
good luck to you …
good luck to me!
from the endomorph:
keeping up a strict routine at gym is about as hard as walking on eggs …
no one will ever be able to tell me any different.
even on days i absolutely love going, the mission of going home, getting dressed and going back out can be an obstacle, especially when it is that cold outside and for some reason you seem to own a lot more gym shorts than sweat pants.
yet i have managed to bite down on the complaints and stepped up to stepping out.
i have dropped two pants sizes and lost about 15kg now with 20%BF – thats body fat … not boyfriend … as i am not sure
how one accurately measures that.
all of a sudden people here and there are saying … oh my you’ve lost weight … thank God … means it’s working i guess.
but oh the little sins in the kitchen … i am still battling with those a bit.
i can kill off a block of cheese faster than a possessed mouse of steroids.
and the late night craving for sommit sweet, why always at 11pm ??
i think there is an invisible fairy in my house that comes out at night sprinkling sweet fairy dust all over my senses.
how stupid we are to tell ourselves it’s ok to cheat a little here and there because tomorrow we will be back at gym working up a sweat and working out the chocolate of the night before.
this is just another vicious cycle that i like to create for myself.
investing in something that is hard work to obtain something that i really want without the effort of sticking to the rules.
a good body starts when you are not at gym …. thats what “they” all say.
and i know in my deepest lindt chocolate tormented heart that it is the truth.
it probably also isn’t as hard as the walk from my car in em shorties through the wind and rain to the very confusing revolving door of my gym.
(i always seem to make it stop when i am on the inside momentarily turning me into living art – tis the blond of my nature)
how to break the cycle … i don’t know yet … and will keep you up to date if i find something that works, a method or a spell.
perhaps it will just be admitting to myself that it is pointless to do one and not the other, perhaps i will acknowledge that now is probably the time to start, to try even a little harder than i have done before.
that saying no is not as much effort as an hour on the treadmill, and that an hour on the treadmill will be better spent loosing another kg than keeping off on that may have been gained the night before.
i would like to loose another 10kg’s before the summer. i have about 3 months to achieve this goal and the one thing i am very proud of is the fact that i still have a goal.
the other thing that i am very proud of is the fact that lately i am starting to do these things for myself, the focus has shifted from making someone else happy to finding a little warm place in the sun where i can just stretch out and be a little more of what there is behind the veil of a person i have been pretending to be.
there is nothing wrong with pretending for a while, if we have to do this to survive. i would have to guess one just needs to know when the time has come to lift the veil so that we won’t find ourselves lost in an act that just is to hard to turn back on.
i am guessing that my time has come.
to keep looking back is going to make going forward a lot harder.
even if the sun is in your eyes, it will eventually be above you in the perfect place, merely shining down on you.
for now it might be good to squint a little, to walk straight into it, leaving the shadows behind.
the best part of this is that the sun comes out everyday and that it is never to late for any endomorph to start crawling, walking, running.
we are all champions to ourselves and being our own super-hero might just be the best rescuing act of our lives.
good luck .
good luck … to me.
from the endomorph:
winter has come to cape-town as quickly as the year has come to the end of it’s 5th month.
i am definitely not the best blogger in the universe, but sometimes it is better to say something worth saying than just saying anything at all.
where my updates as a blogger has lagged, i have gained memento at gym … i.o.w i am still going with the frequency one would expect from a naggy whiney “endomorphic” blogger.
i have cardio’ed and weighted at 5am in the morning if i could not go in the afternoons, taken on the cold and dark of winter like a herculean champion.
with results i might add!
i have halved my body fat, managed to waste 15kg thus far and best of all … managed to deflate my little puffer fish face in to a mor recognisable form.
i have gathered from friends that it now looks less like i may be in need of a training bra to keep my moons from jiggling !
oh the boobie battle !!
i am sure any girl half my age would kill for a set like mine, but i personally could do without the garbo cleavage.
even though i have had to dig old jeans out of the “never to be forgotten” part of my closet and have had an awesome plumbers crack in some of my newer pairs, i must admit to still having a little “sumo” going on around the waist and moob area.
somewhere between 33 & 35 my body seems to have lost the ability to burn off that sexy kangaroo pouch in the front.
it looks like i have been coupon hoarding around my stomach for the last 5 years and now my endomorphic body is slightly less willing to clear out the basement of stacked shelves just in case we need to go into hiding for armageddon.
sadly there is no quick cure for a flabby abbies,
let me narrow down your searches and save you millions in miracle cures …
for endomorphic midriff destruction – 1mm at a time – you will have to do a combination of hi intensity cardio in combination with weight training and erm… intermittent starvation … kill me now for saying that … seems it really is true … not eating sporadically for about 12 hours seems to really work (should you also be crazzzzzy enough t0 do this for a month or a couple of weeks please have at least to meal replacement shakes somewhere throughout the day. this will prevent fainting, fatigue and most likely violence directed toward others)
the other horror to loosing a fat belly may be hidden in the most dreaded of all workouts … “legday”.
“legday” will not only tighten your tusch, it will also flatten your flab.
exercising legs will get to your core, one notices this quite easily just by the amount you sweat, it’s like being glued on a stationary bike from hell.
but … for me … it works !
i call “legday” the gym’s condom … kills the sexy … proves effective!
besides hopefully when we get all ripped and toned one day we will hopefully have the legs to match our biceps so that we may be able to avoid looking like someone has gone to sit on the edge of a cheap inflatable pool .
i am not a big legs man, for me it’s all in the arms but nothing kills a stiffie like spotting a hottie that’s all muscly on top, veiny and buff, and then you glance downward and he has your polio cousin moira’s legs.
so many of them at my gym … so strange … it’s like building a magnificent house in the right neighbourhood and then filling the garden with tortured little gnomes.
still … i should not point a finger … since i have spent most of the past two years looking like a badly drawn boy.
what i have to show for it is endless hour spent at work, and a repertoire of endless series watched from season 1 – infinity …
i would have rather been muscly on top !
yet we are the endomorphs, powerhouses of slow determination, when we get going we ar like rhino’s
nothing can stop us from horning our way trough thorny bushes and difficult days.
we are a force unto ourselves –
we storm our victories, hit our goals with shattering force … be we pissed off enough !
this year for me so far has been strained with emotion, hard truths and inner conflict.
connecting with my body has been a fantastic challenge.
yet when all the muddy water is cleared and you can find a place to see through the surface there is a place of hope in everything.
tears will dry away.
a broken heart will mend.
and a neglected body will rebuild itself.
all these things are workouts of a different kind, but we must do the work.
none of them happen by themselves, nothing ever does, it’s the law of nature, everything needs something to grow.
from the endomorph:
if you have ever really wanted to know what you look like, how others see you …
then go ahead and take a “rude-nude” picture of yourself !
i am not talking about the kind that would make pamela blush and become an online sensation!
i am talking of standing in your favourite knickers against a wall, contracting absolutely 0% of your body and having someone take a happy snappy
of you working it.
i recently did this …
forget it i’m not posting it … not now anyway, as i am still crawling under cabinets looking for my dignity.
a “rude-nude” is like having a bucket of freezing water dumped on you whilst you are all snuggled up and toasty in dreamland !
it’s a horrific shock and a complete sensory overload … again not the exciting kind.
stripped from the comfortable loose hanging shirt and (it just closes beneath the belly) pants there is a whole other dimension of reality you simply cannot mentally prepare for ever.
you just have to rip off that old plaster – and face the pain!
lets just say i’m not going to make the guys with i-phones page any time soon (you’ll know what this is if you like hot “rude-nudes”)
simply put … i freaked for the millionth time over the passed month –
it may not be politically correct in a blog carrying on about self love, unconditional love and acceptance, but i was really grossed out by myself!
time stood still as i looked at the screen of my phone – i have become enormous.
there was nothing sexy in the picture looking back at me and not even my “calvins” could save the day.
i have gone past the point of cuddly, or chubby – the guy in the picture was just plain fat.
there was no sign of someone caring for their body in that picture, it was all just about letting go, about not caring.
i should have done it a year ago and maybe i would not be struggling so much to keep my sinking atlantis above the water.
it is so easy to point the finger of blame, to look for the problem beyond the one that is staring you in the face like an elephant on crack !
it was time for me to accept a little of the blame for “atlantis sinking”.
i now knew if i didn’t start doing something right then and there it would be too late to save my world from being lost forever.
do or die … that was the first thing that came to my mind –
crumbling walls are easier to fix than a rotten foundation. i had little time left before this happened.
all of a sudden i needed to save the world … my world … and i knew instinctively that i was running out of time.
my rambling point is that sometimes we need to recognise that something like obesity can affect the happiness of a relationship.
mine was being severely affected by my weight – a problem that i without the proper self care had created all on my own.
i could not pass the torch of blame here any longer, no one forced food down my throat – no one kept me from gym , no one had become lazy about my personal appearance accept for me, but someone noticed.
my sloppy attitude toward my weight had been noticed by my partner, someone who really takes care of his body.
i know all the comebacks to this, i wrote half of them myself, someone should love us without condition for who we are and how we care for them, but the world turns on a tilted access and things are not always as straightforward as we would like the to be.
look online at any website where people hook up.
guys with good bodies like other guys with good bodies and somehow come to think about it this is fair.
ask yourself this question and then think about it before you disagree.
why must he/she work hard at looking good and staying in shape for you … if you don’t give a rats ass about your own body.
like everything else in the world boys and girls this causes and imbalance, one that i guarantee you will lead to problems, wondering eyes and even worse.
somehow it’s the law of nature – a certain type will almost always be attracted to a similar type.
and make no mistake – somewhere out there there is always a more appealing choice when you fall off the wagon, and with all the technology we live with, the awareness of that fact is explosive.
we live in a world where we have to fight harder for everything and everyone we want to hold on to.
i tried ignoring this fact for year, i didn’t want to be part of it, in fact i hate it, but it is impossible to do.
you simply cannot burry your head in the sand, pretend that he she is not on fb, twitter, instagram, fitocracy ect ect
they are, and they see everyday that there is someone out there going to more trouble than you are, and the ones that they are seeing are seeing them and they are noticing that you are not going to the trouble that they are too.
all you can do is pray to God that there is some way that you will have enough time to hold on for dear life to the person you love, that something in you still makes you more appealing than the whole world which now lives in our homes, on or computers and phones.
if you close your eyes to this you might as well tear them out.
i have done so for years,
i am DONE doing so now.
that good old saying – “if you can’t beat them join them” – there’s a reason for that.
i chose to be with someone who has never been average, when we met i was not average either.
somewhere i just forgot about that or wanted to ignore the fact that i was slipping up big time.
keep your fingers crossed that i will make it before it’s too late.
never ever give up – even if you have lost a battle or two … regroup, recharge and go win the war.
it has been quite some time since i have made an entry on this blog.
the reason for this is that i have fallen off the fitness wagon, the spinning cycle and the treadmill.
there was only shame.
as the months passed i regressed into gaining back most of the weight i lost and went from 94kg’s to a staggering 101.2 kg’s.
i became distressed, and angry with myself.
the punchline came when christmas came around. i tried hard to find the perfect gifts for the people i loved, especially for the guy in
i was childlike in my excitement when christmas morning finally came around as one would be when it is your only day off during the year.
when it came round to my turn to open gifts, my partner had wrapped a “fitbit” scale for me.
my world dissolved in an instant, all joy left my body and my hart shrank into a place that i have not yet managed to go and look for it again.
it was like opening pandora’s box. it swallowed everything around me, i spent nights and days on my own feeling hurt, alone and depressed.
i cried for weeks before i finally managed to open the box.
there was no support in this gesture but the obvious was being pointed out to me .
without any subtlety i was being notified that my body was
as repulsive to the person i was with as probably i felt it was to myself.
still nothing changed i was left paralysed as if someone had taken all the things that made my life special and put it through the shredder.
in my naivety i always imagined love to be enough, that no matter what stages of bodyweight, health or wealth a person went through love would be unconditional, it would matter as it has never mattered to me.
i was wrong, love is not enough. it has labels like everything else in this frivolous world where people judge critically by social standing, physical conditioning, wealth and influence.
i was a hopeless romantic, all of a sudden i was just hopeless.
as all tsunamis go the wave of destruction gathered force and swept it’s devastating carnage through all the corners of my life.
i found that on social networks his friends were all toned, muscular men, i was nothing like them.
i have spent my life caring for people with my heart and all of a sudden i could no longer find the reason to caring anymore.
paranoia ensued, followed by doubt and fear.
his actions were without regret, there was no remorse in the conflict that came from them, he shrugged away the pain that it caused me on a daily basis.
somehow i have managed to find a piece of myself lying amongst the rubble that was once a life i imagined perfect. i picked them up quietly and studied them as if seeing them for the first time.
there was still a little glow of light dimly reflecting of the surface, barely warm to the touch.
i hoped it would be enough to keep going. i hoped it would be enough to not walk down the road and never look back.
so i carefully placed the pieces in the hollow space that once held and exuberant light.
they were mere embers that i prayed would warm the icy landscape around them even if just a little.
i was a peter pan without fairy dust, i was the lion who lost his main, i was a land without a sun.
i finally managed to dust off my physical body, reboot my mind and find my way back to the gym.
it has been three weeks now, i have not missed a single session, i have starved myself from eating anything more than a single hand full of food everyday. i have lost the 10 kg’s and am now back at 94kg’s.
once again i am back at the beginning.
this beginning i hope will make me acceptable in they eyes of the world, this beginning i hope will make someone love me, if not for who i am then at least for what i am.
i hope too that anyone out there who loves with there heart may not have it so brutally stolen away.
i pray that you will be loved as you are without condition.
if you too must start again be gentle with the light inside of you, there is nothing so hard as to live with only a little of something that was once a lot of everything you knew.
from the endomorph:
From the Endomorph:
I guess it’s time to do a little pictorial update again.
It feels as if I have been training for a millennium and every now and then I get heated under the collar that I don’t look like
a Andrew Christian underwear model yet!!
Actually I haven’t been training … properly… for very long at all and the new pics I took at gym 2 days ago gives me a little hope again and a little renewed inspiration.
I find that self pics are a better reflection of progress than the scale (personal opinion only – motivation should be inspired by whichever means work best for you) and have stopped weighing myself completely. The reason I stopped doing this was that it made me feel frustrated and anxious not to see the pounds dropping off each time I got on the scale.
I now take a visual weight measurement which makes me feel more secure in my progress.
I try to do the pics in the same size of shirt as I started out with – of the same brand.
Besides the pics I can also feel the difference in my everyday attire, and ease of movement.
I would still like to look like an Andrew Christian underwear model though – lol – and since I have given up trying the 12 week miracle transformation routines and have started focusing a little more on the step by step, one day at a time kind of routines, I have taken a breath – enjoyed some awesome sessions and some pretty good results.
The proof is in the pudding not being quite as wobbly as before and thats proof enough for me.
I should have probably done the whole holding up a newspaper thing, but it’s been tough enough going to gym in a pair of bike shorts without the added embarrassment of holding up a newspaper haha !
That along with the fact that I am not selling a 12 week solution means I’ll just keep posting until I think it’s enough of the raggedy pics and have promised myself that I will put a picture of myself in a pair of skimpy briefs in another 6 months – win or fail …. just to keep me on track , I promise to post it with a warning beforehand so no one will loose their lunch involuntarily, and if it’s hot the world can just kiss my Endo-ass !
Here’s to hoping !