Last week I faced an unpleasant fact: despite being in my workout program for 10 months, I STILL have the same damn gut and love handles I started with, if not more. The muscles have grown nicely, although I’d like to see more definition, and those ropy bicep veins I find so hot continue to elude me.
I was pissed, and had no one to blame but myself. I blew off the dietary part of the program early on, frequently skipped workouts, especially cardio, and just basically did the bare minimum. I did enough to build some noticeable muscle, but not enough to really lose any fat.
The catalyst for all this was from going to IML a couple weeks ago. I couldn’t count the number of guys there with chiseled bodies who were 5-10 years older than me, if not more. The final straw was the pic I found while clearing out some old items from Gmail, which has become my motivational desktop background:
I started yelling at myself. “You’re going to be 38 years old soon. If you don’t fucking get serious about this now, then when do you plan to?!”
I got up on my institutional-sized soapbox, pumped my fist in the air, and in Howard Beale tradition announced, “I’M MAD AS HELL, AND I’M NOT GONNA TAKE IT ANYMORE!”
I want to be chiseled.
I don’t want the fit of my pants to be a daily crapshoot.
I want to look straight down and see the base of my dick without sucking in my gut.
(Which I haven’t been able to do since 1987, and that only after a combination of boot camp, strep throat, and walking pneumonia had reduced me to looking like an ad for Save The Children.)
So, after relaying all this to my trainer, he briefly sympathized and then told me to get my ass back on his plan and not skip ONE SINGLE MEAL. He also had me recalculate my target heart rate for my cardio using a different formula to keep me in the fat-burning zone. It feels absurdly slow, but he swears he’s dropped two notches on his belt in the last month or so while getting back in shape after a shoulder injury.
I’ve been winging it the last couple days, and spending too much on food at work, but so far I’m staying on track. Aaron bought a ton of food last night but we couldn’t grill any of it, as we’d run out of gas and NO ONE in our area had any in stock. Our fellow summer grillers are hoarding it all, apparently.