The other half of me: Link here! Thank you for reading. 🙂
The other half of me: Link here! Thank you for reading. 🙂
New entry. Here’s the link.
[FYI: Don’t be surprised to see this blog on my other Training Life! I promise in time, there will be enough of me and my inspiration to go around. Ha!]
My shoulder pangs and howls to let me become acquainted with the power it has over my training life. It’s fully aware that one thing is connected to another: Performing bicep curls, bent-over rows, overhead tricep extensions, and push-ups will harm; and as far as shoulder pressing – during the action it wouldn’t hurt will, but later on it’ll be unforgiving.
My abdominals are back to their strong connection where I can lay flat on the floor and sit up in a heartbeat without an ounce of struggle. And the other night getting into a dog position I can feel the outstanding stretch from the top of my abdominals, to the oblique and lower region in wincing tenderness.
My glutes are under a sexual tension of their own I like to believe. I assume they adore being at the height of attention and at the personification of pain – how they love to demonstrate by hurting me brutally with every step I take, any time I sit (like on the bike earlier) and every bend I perform from the waist.
My lower back has been having a groundhog film moment where it feels as if it’s been hit on repeat with a small hammer because anything bigger may have me registering at the hospital overnight as I try and explain to the doctors how I switched from “cutting” to out-lifting myself and every other person in and out the gym because priorities and wanting to be the master at something before I die.
My ankle decides to knock, knock, and knock on my nerves with its flaming metal and screws which poke and stab me like syringes. It has every reason to be annoyed with my telling it to suck it up and woman-and-nut-up.
I had to strategize the slow and fast pace of pedaling and of heartbeats per minute during the course of forty-seven minutes on the stationary bike because let’s face it – 7 miles in my mind wasn’t enough for the 30lbs I want to lose, but it’s a start to getting more workouts done in the gym (out the apartment) and getting my old body back.
Over and out,
I feel kind of bad when I push compliments off to the side by men who love women who body sculpt, bodybuild or weight-lift. Sometimes it feels like a defense mechanism to my strong hatred towards men. But it is what it is and it goes something like this.
It usually starts the same way, with an inbox message and a quotation mark smile, “You look great” and goes on to say “I always loved your arms, pec and back. You’ve been getting leaner without losing size and that’s great!” This should all be a good thing, right? It’s awesome to hear! It’s nice that there are people (actual strangers!) who have been following my training journey and I’m forever grateful. But I’m not going to lie and say I don’t have a problem with certain underlying issues. I guess I have trouble accepting the type of person and not so much the male gender in this case?
On one hand this guy we’ll call Han could stare at my photos all day for some reasons known but more reasons unknown yet rarely asks me questions about my life and when he does ask me, it shows he’s not interested in me per say. He’s another person who’s more into the fantasy of who he believes I am than who I am in reality. And generally I don’t respect people who don’t respect to learn anything about my life.
The second thing about this guy is just how he thinks lifting and gaining muscle comes easy for me. He boasts about me and my body as if he couldn’t be doing the same or more. When I ask him, “Why do you think it’s difficult to gain muscle?” He says, “Well, it requires a lot of work, lifting heavy day in and day out and eating right.” So he admits to the truth and I appreciate it and he has courage, but I bet he doesn’t realize how poorly he appears to someone like me.
He asks, “Do you think it’s easy to gain muscle?” I said, “At first I didn’t think it was easy to gain muscle. But now I know what it takes, so no, I believe anyone could do it and gain muscle. It’s like you said it takes a lot of dedication and discipline.” He goes on to say, “Yeah, I think that’s the difference. Some people can do the hard work and be dedicated but for some it’s too much. It’s one of the main reasons why I’m such a big fan of yours because you make it all look easy.”
Now don’t get me wrong, I adore anyone who adores me and would worship me at the drop of a dime. But what I’m saying is it’s hard to respect someone like this as a person, probably because I’m judgmental or an asshole? And I’m aware it’s my problem and not theirs. As a result, I guess it comes easy to shoo away the compliment than hold it to a higher regard because I like someone who gives a shit about my life and believes in working out hard “physically-speaking” as oppose to being a bystander and idling watching, being fine and dandy settling just to be a fan.
I haven’t been pissed off all day. The day has been good to me and I honestly can’t complain although I tried on 6 pairs of Lululemon Athletica pants to find the perfect fit and eventually gave up though that was my Personal Best in a fitting room in my lifetime. Oh and I failed with 2 1/2lbs dumbbells with a Master Trainer working on my rotator cuff injury. But, the point is, I like to be angry. So now I’ve been looking for something to upset me and naturally I found it!
I don’t understand it. In general, I will never understand why women rather put one another down as oppose to lend a helping hand or “bigging them up” in the process of dedication and discipline in a world where we bleed monthly cycles, choose to give life and where religion crucifies us. We need unity in order to reach the top globally.
Growing up I used to believe it was the men who kept women down (aside from powerful political positions, etc and such). But the older I became, the more I started to observe how horrible women are to other women without rhyme or reason. They just lash out for their own purpose, own agendas and quite possibly for no other reason than perhaps they didn’t bond with their biological mother or someone spilled coffee on their favorite blouse. Who really knows?
So, no, I don’t agree with women hating on other women ESPECIALLY when it concerns bodysculpting and/or bodybuilding and all that applies concerning this subject. It’s difficult for any woman to build muscle or to get super lean for thousands of reasons say hormones to holding a higher percentage of bodyfat than men.
And for a woman who’s supposed to be for women everywhere, who considers herself a business/professional woman and a public figure with lots of fans on her Facebook Page who constantly pushes her FighterDiet concept to everyone (to become lean and muscular) to state (while displaying a photo of DLB) that she finds another Fitness Model a Nay as oppose to a Yay and isn’t sexy or healthy is downright disgusting. It says a lot about her character. Mostly her flaws within them.
Why preach about being lean and muscular but get on another woman’s case for being exactly that? It’s basically calling the kettle black.
For me, it’s important to have support, to never put people down even when they’re starting from a low place (or in this case super high place). Naturally I would presume that the Fitness Industry should be here as a community of like-minded supportive individuals for crying out loud. Granted we may not all see eye to eye or share the same physique ideals or have the same training/diet philosophies. But this is why it’s important to be an individual, to be different, to be unique, to be humble, to have integrity. But also to be respectful of others.
The fact remains that the Fitness Industry and the Fitness Enthusiasts and Pros should be the first to lend a healthy and high demand of concern and care for the very same people who put in their hard work and effort regardless of how one is perceived physically because their beliefs are “it’s not feminine or sexy-looking.” And what does it matter to you/her if you aren’t the person you’re speaking of? What’s feminine? What constitutes as masculine? Is it a label? Or a matter of perception? Are they illusions? Or a matter of stereotypes?
This woman Pauline isn’t immune to body issues like the millions of women on the universe. There have been statuses and even blog related posts about how people get on her case for how she looks like: Strong, muscly and very lean. So to pick, give a public statement/opinion on another Pro’s body is outrageous and it comes off like a form of betrayal. Mostly for every other woman who does take the art and sport of building muscle and getting lean seriously (which sadly, includes herself).
It’s 2012 and we’re going into 2013 and there are lots of women who still refuse to get a handle on things. By things, I mean what’s wrong and what’s right. When it comes to assisting and encouraging other women with everything involving Fitness (and out of it) and their daily lives. It’s a moral and dignity game.
Can women allow other women to live muscular and strong? Can other women find it within themselves to learn how to be encouraging rather than put another woman down for being who she wants to be? (Aside from sluts. Fuck sluts! ;-)) When you judge someone based completely on looks (or money or what car they drive or what books they read), it says a lot about one’s character FLAWS.. especially when one is doing it in public for others (especially their fans) to see.
It’s utterly shameless.
I showered one night and lathered up in the unchanged way I always do, half grudgingly and the other with methodical certainty from bulky arms, to bursting bosoms, to pooch belly, to smooth waist, to entity vagina, to voluptuous thighs until I came across my calve, a steel rock of will and sheer determination.
This became the day I questioned every exhausting set of every draining rep of cruel years spent on sculpting, limping and wincing through the Charlie Horses that arrived to visit me in the tragedy of over stimulating nights to walk every line to put every ounce of life in training to win every fight.
So why did I pull away abruptly? Why did I fall back on my training approach? How could I fear exactly what I’ve desired the most? Diamonds that would climb the circumference of a quad and cut as appealing and wicked as ice. Polished for the world to know how I strong I am by how much pain and anguish bore within this delightful body of mine.
I’m reminded of how I want to grow into where my mind and my heart and my spirit of power will take me. I want to cast out all the words, shocked faces and expressions to ill me of what I accomplish and of who I am. I look to you, a statue of greatness, a shrine of eternal internal faith and a sudden shift in the atmosphere of the subconscious.