Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Date #2 (from Hell)

Kate: Don't you think it's strange you spend so much time at the gym?
Christian: No. All my real friends are there; besides, I love bodybuilding and even a have bodybuilding website.
Kate: But you can't do that when you get old. What are you going to do, lift in the grave?
Christian: Of course I can do it when I'm old, but obviously not from the grave - especially since I plan on being cremated, lol.
The dinner that followed at Olive Garden was great. I ordered Diet Coke and a glass of red wine. I was told to 'live a little' -- I guess that entails ordering a beverage loaded with simple sugars. I had a breadstick, then a second -- but I really was uncomfortable eating them. I had them b/c I wanted to, but still.. I said I'll be doing cardio tonight.

At the end of the date -- she told me it wouldn't work out. She said she wasn't into 'the whole musclehead thing' and I literally felt like gymrats should become a constitutionally-protected class. The more cut I get, the more looks I get -- do people like what they see -- or am I going to be some kind of a circus freak? I will continue to get cut and train and possibly one day... even take the next step, but will this life lead me to utter solitude?

Will my claim to fame be the guy that's most often asked to help move furniture, flex his pecs, and/or show off his biceps? And I'm not even ripped, I'm not even anywhere near competition shape.

Maybe my real contempt for some of the gym couples isn't that they're snobby at all -- maybe I'm just utterly envious that these guys have found beautiful women that love to train alongside them. Why is that since I started working out five years ago -- that my 3hr, 6x a week gym habit has become somewhat of a concession, or something conceded to me in exchange for a bad habit or character flaw.

The bottom line is that guys that train hardcore are going to last longer in bed, aren't going to die from a heart-attack at 50, are going to be able to play ball w/ their kids, run with the dogs at the beach, walk around doing yardwork bareshirt and draw admiring eyes -- what the f*ck is so bad about being cut. Is the self-confidence a problem -- OR -- is the gym too much of a competition?

Is this like undergrad when my longtime gf was intimidated I rushed a Greek fraternity -- (Go Phi Gamma Delta -- Rush Fiji!!!) or is this like when another girlfriend came close to having me choose between her and my blossming career in student government? Why can't women (and men if you're a women reading this) not appreciate our hobbies and realize they have a place in our lives - but they don't control them.

Working out is a good thing. I'm sorry I'm not some fat motherf*cker who can't see his feet, who's impotent, and who huffs and puffs after walking a few yards from his car to the entrance of the Dairy Queen. I'm sorry I tan, I'm sorry I shave all over and have less hair on my arms, legs, and face than most girls -- yes even the run way models (if left unkempt start lookin like Arafat -- I'm sorry I'm not scared to talk to beautiful women, and I'm sorry I work out so much, I'm sorry I don't own or watch tv, and I'm sorry I don't know what friggin sitcom you're talkin about -- I'm literate -- I read books and run a website -- i don't spend my hours watching the box or playing video games.

I should go to the Humane Society and get a dog. Stop training? Get Real!