It’s a process, just like the lsat

he said that tonight.

i’ve been avoiding the big stuff.  i’ve been avoiding the real reason I started this whole process.  it was easy to ignore in the first week.  the excitement, the freshness, the eagerness.  now everything is already mundane, or at least, familiar.  and so, it has become harder to ignore the inevitable truths of this experiment.

i came home tonight (from the gym) angry.  not an unfamiliar feeling at all.  i couldn’t place the anger, i just knew i was upset, and it had turned aggressive.   it’s week two, which is never my favorite week in any transition.  it’s the week when you realize you still have a long haul in front of you and yet nothing is different (well your life is different, you’re going through a change, an overhaul, a makeover) but though the actions/place/routine has changed, you have not.  you’re still at the very first step of the transformation: only planned the chrysalis, gathered materials to construct it, but by no means have stated to wrap yourself in it to prepare for the final reveal.  this makes you question and wonder why you’ve changed everything in the first place.

i’m a stubborn person.  i’m in this.  it’s going to happen.  i will go to the gym three times a week.  i will drink my shakes.  i will push myself.  and memorial day will arrive. but unlike other goals i’ve set for myself, this one is distinct because i do not know what i am capable of achieving in the end.

he said, “it’s like taking the lsat (which i just took two weeks ago), you prepare, you study, you do your best to be as ready as you can be, and then when you take it you know you did the best you could.  you get the best score you are capable of.”

but unlike the lsat, i don’t know what my “gym best” is going to look like.  i know myself well. academically. emotionally. mentally. interpersonally. and i guess on some level i know my body physically.  i know how it looks, and feels, and moves, and doesn’t move.  but in contrast to my other personal knowledge,  i don’t know what my body is capable of.  i have no clue.  in all the other categories i know my limits, my abilities, i know how to push, i know when to push, i know when i’ve pushed.  and i know when i’ve succeeded.  physically, i’m lost.  i’ve set a goal that i assumed i could achieve, but for the first time i really haven’t a clue if it’s even possible.  and so i don’t know what’s an acceptable outcome.  this process now has an amorphous goal, and i can’t verbalize how i’ll know i’m done; that i have succeeded.

it’s not like the lsat, not for me anyway, because for that i knew what i was capable of and i could see and measure whether i had fulfilled my potential.  this is a whole different animal. and i’m scared to have a goal that i can’t conceptualize. what does my physical best look like, and do i want to know?  i’m scared to find out that my physical best is less than.  less than what?  and that is the question i’ve been afraid to grapple with.  what won’t i be happy with?  what won’t be enough for me?  what does physically less than look like to me?

everyone who puts their mind to it can mold their bodies into this image that i have in my head (clearly this is a theory i also have in my head).  this is the image i’m using as my goal.  i know it when i see it.  i know i made it up.  i know it’s socially constructed, completely sexist and extremely contra to all my queer beliefs. i know that not everyone’s body is made to look the way i made up it could.  (i know that’s a good thing) still. i’m scared to find out what my body looks like after i’ve done my best.  because i think my best might fall short of my fucked up ideal.  so now my goal has changed.  instead of achieving a muscled body, i vow to discover and be proud of my body at its best.  (whatever that looks and feels like).

i miss having constructed, concrete, criteria to judge the success of my goal.  where’s the standardized gym? i’d like to sign up for that please.

Weak 2

second week and i’m excited and eager to get back.  and speaking of backs, mine is feeling better, for now, luckily tuesday is not legs and back day.  it’s triceps and pecs day.  this is the last week before we kick it up to high gear.  he keeps telling me that next week we start our circuit.  i asked him what that meant, “less time to rest between sets, more weight each set with less reps.”  a week ago that would have been gibberish, but now it’s starting to make sense.  i’m scared of the circuit, it sounds intense.  but we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, time to focus on the tasks at hand.  we do our warm-up, which consists of three types of push-ups (who knew there was such variety).  i can barely handle the old fashion version.  my body feels weaker than last week.  i try to convince myself that this makes sense.  i had jump started my body, dove head first into this, and it was to be expected that week two my body would still be acclimating.  but it was also disappointing.  i wanted to be stronger.  we moved through the routine.  when we were done, i officially sign up at the gym.  it feels like i’m signing a lease.  there are several places to initial, date and sign, several plans to pick from, several perks (now i have a month of free tanning… oh joy).   i’m now committed for a year.  if this works out, it will be the longest relationship i’ve been in.  fingers crossed.

Triple Holiday Weekend

And the award for most holidays in one weekend goes to…

February 13-15, 2010.

valentines day, presidents’ day, mardi gras: the city was ready to party.

i was not.

friday i was in the gym, working on my biceps, back and shoulders.  not that the gym directly interferred with my ability to party.  i managed to make it to a friends house after the gym to watch the opening ceremonies for the winter olympics, which i thought would be inspiring or at least interesting, but bob costas said it best, “how do you following the bejing opening ceremonies… you don’t even try.” and it was apparent canada got the message.  the next day however i woke up and could not move.  i had worked my entire body the week before and now it was angry.  my back was killing me, i was walking like a zombie and i couldn’t put my pants on without sitting down in a chair, and even then it was a struggle to pull them on.  this made me angry.  i had things to do, people to see, birthdays to celebrate.  i spent the majority of the day worrying about my back.  it was throwing my whole body out of whack.  i couldn’t even ride the subway without feeling pain because, of course, you use your back when riding (things i didn’t know until now).  each stop and start sent a twinge down my side and i was deeply regretting the deadlift i had done on wednesday.

i spent the rest of the weekend taking it easy, while new york city partied hard.

Is that a 5-pound vat of protein in your bag?

or are you just happy to see me.

i now have not one, but two gigantic vats of powder that i am supposed to consume.  they look ridiculous.  one sits on my shelf in my kitchen and looks out the east-facing window.  this morning, as the sun streamed into the room, the vat, encased in light, resembled an ancient artifact in an indiana jones movie: daunting and precarious, yet powerful and beautiful (really just full, full of protein, full of calories, full of potential, full of bullshit?).  the other vat sits in my desk drawer, so i have easy access to it during the day, where i try to drink a shake in the afternoon.  eating is now a chore.  an expensive chore.  a production that i’m not quite used to.  my body doesn’t realize it needs all this extra stuff yet.  so i’m stuck, hoping that one day i’ll be used to this much intake, knowing that right now i’ve never felt this full.  and it’s an uncomfortable full.  not even an i-ate-too-much-at-thanksgiving-because-i-needed-to-try-all-six-pies full, but an uncomfortable full because it was inorganic.  the intention behind the eating has led to a discomfort in the act.  each swig of the shake is like another hurdle overcome.  and though i do feel accomplished, swig, swig, swig, at the same time i feel slightly ashamed.  because it feels like i’m doing something to my body that it did not intuit.

i think the first two weeks are going to be harder than i thought.

How to put a shirt on without lifting your arms

magic.

it’s not like i wasn’t warned, i even had prior experience in this area… the day after burn.

and it does hurt, so good.  and no, i can’t lift my arms above my shoulders.  and yes, it was difficult to wash my hair, brush my teeth, put on clothes or do anything that required moving my arms.  but it’s worth it.  i enjoy feeling this burn.  i’ve missed it.  you push your body so hard for the first time in months (maybe years) and the next day it gives up, waves the flag of surrender, reminding you that you’re out of shape and out of practice.  this first day after burn is unique and as my body gets more and more used to my new routine, it won’t complain as much.  so i must cherish this feeling now, like any first time experience.  becuase with routine comes monotany.  the pain will become familiar, less exciting, unoriginal.  but not today.  today it’s fresh, new, invigorating.  a triumph.  maybe small, but a triumph nonetheless.

i have off today.  but i go back tomorrow.  can’t wait.

It’s your choice, just like those gloves

that’s what he said to me as he left me at my door.

See i have really gay gloves.  they’re from urban outfitters… women’s section.  i can’t help it, the women’s section has better winter wear.  it’s not my fault the men’s section is littered with gloomy colors that make the scarves look more like nooses. seriously, i’d rather hang myself with them, then wear them.  anyway, the gloves in question are at least four or five bright colors all knit together.  i get lots of compliments on them.  and i wore them to my first day at the gym.

Compare this gym is not a gay gym, it’s not a straight gym either, just a gym, regardless my gloves stood out.  clearly i hadn’t dressed the part.  wearing a plaid modern amusement coat didn’t help either.  the workout clothes i chose were much more understated, a white shirt (v-neck, no AA plunge) and black puma sweat pants.  and that’s how it began.

Our workout was really just a warm up.  i haven’t used a gym in a while and needed to take things slow.  we just ran through a set or two of this and that. nothing complicated.  i felt awkward.  i didn’t know how to act, but i was doing my best.  we did chest and triceps.  apparently they go together.  when we were done, my arms felt like they were going to burst, but i was excited.

See i have this goal.  i figure that i should try to make myself as attractive as possible while i’m in my mid 20s because frankly now is the time.  there’s nothing quite like youth.  let’s face it, zac efron isn’t going to be as hot at 50 as he is at 20.  so that’s the plan.  gym it out in my mid 20s and see what it’s like to be a muscled gay.  right now i’m scrawny, skinny, practically wasting away, which isn’t so bad.  but i think it’s time to see what life is like on the other side.  that’s the quest.  and i’m going to try to do it on my own terms.  really really gay.

thus the gloves.  my choice.  and the gym.  my choice.