Skip to main content

Growing Pains

First off, I'd like to apologise for my (latest) absence from the blogging scene. Exams, studying and my own laziness have conspired to keep me from writing for nearly a month - but no longer!

Writing this post, in particular, is really painful for me. Not because of the subject matter, or because writing posts requires me to constantly bludgeon my poor, uncooperative brain for ideas - although at least one of those is a factor - but because I just joined the gym again, and my trainer seems to have no intention whatsoever of going easy on me until I get back into the swing of things.

On Monday, I had an arm workout. Today is Friday, and my eyes still well with tears every time I try to stretch my elbows. It's not even a one-time thing. Every time I come home from a workout, some part of my body is incredibly sore. Honestly, sometimes I think the only thing keeping me regular to the gym is some inherent masochistic streak.

The funny thing is that I don't mind it hurting. I go to the gym five days a week, I come back home five days a week about as sore as Humpty Dumpty in the aftermath of his famous fall, but I still go in the following day because it's fun. I enjoy being in the gym, I like the feeling of doing something to get physically fit. Even the pain isn't so bad. After all, if I don't feel at least a little sore, did I really exercise at all?

I don't like working out. In fact, I can barely stand the tedium of running on a treadmill for 20 minutes, or the endless repetition of a single move with a dumbbell. No, if I had to work out merely for the sake of working out, I doubt I'd have visited the gym more than once in my life. What I enjoy - what makes the sweat and the strain and the judgemental looks from the more adonis-esque,  muscle-bound members of the gym worth it - is the endorphin rush you get afterwards. I've never yet experienced anything that quite equals the sheer satisfaction of a good workout seen through to the end.

That's probably the biggest thing I've learned about working out, now that I think about it - working out because you want to get in shape, or see past your paunch, or even take your shirt off in public - doesn't really work. Sure, you'll stick with it for a few days, maybe a couple of weeks if you're particularly persistent, but then you'll abandon it, because you won't really see any results. What I've noticed, though, is that you yourself are never going to see the results. The change is so slow, and you look for it so regularly, that you don't really see it occur. You only discover the value of having spent a month planning your life around your gym time and diet when people ask you how you lost so much weight the following month.


Popular posts from this blog

Weighing In

Today, I'm writing about something I'm actually rather proud of. Today, I'm writing about my weight loss. Over the past ten months, I've lost 12 kilos.

My parents have been begging me to start exercising since eighth grade. When I was 13, they'd boot me out of the house every day at 5:00PM and make me go running. I hated it. I barely even bothered to run, let alone push myself or stick to a diet. I ate like a trash can, sat in front of the computer all day and did nothing at all about my rapidly swelling pot belly. By the time I'd turned 15, even Dad had given up any dreams of seeing me with a flat stomach. I'd trained myself to stop looking in the mirror, and I stayed out of pictures as much as possible.

Fast-forward to the present day: I weigh 69 kilos. My stomach has all but vanished. Looking in the mirror is a satisfying experience, and I even have some muscle on my arms. I can now fit in medium-size t-shirts, and whenever I wear my old jeans, I look li…

Exam Fever

As anyone currently in the twelfth will tell you, with varying levels of dismay, the final exams are right around the corner. Parents everywhere are seizing their children's phones and taking time off from work. Panicked screaming ensues at intervals.

I don't believe there's a person on the planet who genuinely enjoys exam season. Actually, I take that back - there's no one in India who enjoys exam season. Partially, I think this is our own fault. Exams are the most important things in an Indian student's life, so parents seem bent on bottling up all the worry and concern they have about their kid's education and allowing it to spew forth in a torrent of "No more video games!" and "Delete WhatsApp!" commands during the two months surrounding the exams. Small wonder, then, that at 17, I believe the purpose of exams is to seasonally blot the sunshine from otherwise happy lives.

This whole exam fever thing does have some upsides. Okay, one - it…

No Good Place To Do Mutra Visarjan In This Country...

At least, that's what Chatur Ramalingam seems to think. However, many of our fellow Indians seem to disagree with him. According to them, there are nothing BUT places to do mutra visarjan (for all you poor, masochistic folks - ah, I mean, non-movie-going folks - out there, mutra visarjan means urine expulsion). In case you haven't guessed already, we're going to be talking about one of India's most widely criticized and even more widely practiced issues - public urination.

I'm not exactly saying that it's our people's fault - I mean, come on, we have so much urine-related cultural history! Just in the past 50 years, we've had people who've used their urine for everything from watering plants to drinking it (I believe that some people also flush it down their toilets. How wasteful of them). Besides all the historical precedents, however, we also have some more practical reasons for peeing wherever and whenever we feel like.

If you've ever seen a …