How I came to be at the receiving end of this instruction is a
long and painful story, which I tried to put into fictional form, inventing
this wife and husband. It must come across as a surprise to you that I could
not, and cannot write a story to save my own dear life. Hence I now attempt to
write this in the usual way as such, the Totalliemeh way.
.
Guest posting is NOT an easy task.And I have been bugged,
nudged, threatened, blackmailed(emotionally and otherwise) into writing one.
The fact that the owner of this blog wrote a kidu GP on my blog, didn't help to
put it off for long. The voice of my conscience, which for some weird
reason, resembles the blog owner's voice, gave me sleepless nights, I tossed
around with this heavy weight on my mind, a debt, and ..er. well, here I am.
I am not fat.
It is a liberating experience to write that on someone else's blog, for a change. I guess this is my primary concern regarding my life, second only to my unemployed state and unknown dark future. Lets just not go there okay? Okay. So where were we?
Yea, Am NOT fat. Nope. No. But Somehow, everyone seems to think
so. I was wondering, why is that a problem? Should it be a problem? Surely you
will feel that how food is being processed and deposited on my body is none of
anyone's business. but it isn't so. Right from the college store lady
who inquired about "the baby" to the old classmate who
didn't recognize me at the alumni meet, from a best friend who
literally starved herself scolding me for taking second helpings, to a brother
who called you thadichi, I have had enough of humiliating experiences, which
-which prompted me to go join a --GYM.
Ah. Gym was like school. I was excited to go at first, my mother
had to drag me to the place the next two weeks, and I accepted my fate and
began liking the gym, after a month. But the "I love to work out"
attitude was a rather strange journey, which is, am sure, quite clear in the
first sentence of this post. The Leg press machine, asks you to put your legs
on the press, part it slightly and push. Well, it was a rather strange analogy
that the mind cooked up, but it only confirms my fears that the mind is highly
perverted.
I liked walking on the treadmill, which I used to spell as
threadmill, and I thought it was named so coz life was hanging like on a
thread, while you are on it. I loved the machine, I used to walk , watching the
tv infront of me, the hands free to use the remote, all was hunky dory till the
instructor came along and asked me to increase the speed from 1.5 km/h and actually
"run". Then I began to hate it as I drew analogies from my life, to
explain the way I felt about the machine. It is a stupid machine, no matter how
much you struggle and run you are at the same position and if you stop, you
fall and die.
I was never allowed on the exercise bike as I was prone to sleep while I was on it. The dumbbell exercise was a humiliation, I couldn't lift the lowest of weights. I became a child once again who has forgotten her arithmetic while counting the number of push-ups. Abs exercises were an all in one- It was humiliating, exhausting and I was often found nodding off with my legs in the air.
Don't wonder. I quit gym a few weeks ago. My trainer keeps calling me, even from different numbers and for all your information, I am right now in the States, married. If she asks, stick with this story.
The profound influence this blog owner's pragmatic nature had, has, have, whatever- on my life should be mentioned now. His philosophy seems to be rather a very simple, well known and a widely followed one. Eat what you want, when you want, avoid exercise if you can help it, and die a happy man/woman. He looks everyday in the mirror and swears he will gain another kilo that day, which, he achieves quite easily, and he is a happy contented man, if there was any. And I am allowed to affectionately call him "Thadiya". and I do. and I love calling him that as well. Oye- don't get slim, ever. I hope you always remain the cushy squishy pudgy self.
Love,
Chyechu.
4 comments:
No comments yet. I am glad you said this is your post now, feels good not to have that responsibility of having written an average post on a blog.
First things first. No, you're NOT fat. :P
Done. Now, I guess there are two kinds of people who define the two attitudes we have towards attending gym: 1. horizontally challenged folks, for which gymming is fun and hopeful. 2. horizontally over-blessed folks, who for some reason hate to let go of all that adipose tissue and hence hate the gym.
I liked walking on the treadmill, which I used to spell as threadmill, and I thought it was named so coz life was hanging like on a thread, while you are on it. I loved the machine, I used to walk , watching the tv infront of me, the hands free to use the remote, all was hunky dory till the instructor came along and asked me to increase the speed from 1.5 km/h and actually "run". Then I began to hate it as I drew analogies from my life, to explain the way I felt about the machine. It is a stupid machine, no matter how much you struggle and run you are at the same position and if you stop, you fall and die. Had you not mentioned this was a GP, this para would've been a dead giveaway anyway. The style of writing, that's all i meant. *runs*
+1 for the old blighter's philosophy, which, experience tells me, extends into other domains such as gfs and such. Quite a lazy and contented way to live and pat one's pot belly though. Delightful :D
Finally, a bit of a sly guilt like that comes when you read candid paparazzi articles. Though you've told me pretty much the whole content, it is, I daresay, a bit startling to find such "unprecedented exclusive from the elusive,secretive,mysterious woman's pen" online :P
Cheerio :)
PS: For the love of God, remove the captcha. I got it wrong thrice in a row.
A strong is essential to correctly perform strength training exercises, to lift a maximum amount of weight and to reduce your risk of injuries. There are many different techniques you can use to vary your core training and avoid a plateau. Here are a few drills to incorporate into your core workout.
I was excited to go at first, my mother had to drag me to the place the next two weeks, and I accepted my fate and began liking the gym taxi to reagan airport
, after a month. i will be on the track.
Post a Comment