It was the succession of ulcer and flu that caused me to stop my workout routine. Sacred as it was, I even went to the gym at 2 in the morning just so my physical activity would not come in the way of work. That was before the malady struck. Last week, I had to stay away from doing any fitness activity while recovering from sickness. There was an undeniable strength loss after my return. Meanwhile, the mind felt uneasy without the pattern I have grown used to follow.
The gym has become the pillar from which my repetitive existence gets a break. It was a preoccupation that breath life unto me, especially after the weekend shifts forced me to become a social hermit. The colleague who I used to assign on Saturdays and Sundays resigned from work last summer. No longer I could call for a binge. Friends of the Casa went their separate ways.
For a long time, the plateau was the reason I never lose weight. I would still remember someone from last year, a lover from a deleted timeline, telling me repeatedly that I am getting fat; while he became more frequent at the gym. To this day I keep in mind that it was the reason for our breakup. No longer was I fit like when we first met, he decided to make a run without ever saying a proper goodbye.
The thought still makes my heart break.
From 180 lbs last Christmas, my weight has dropped to 166, the best accomplishment so far since I ended the Bunny Interludes last 2008. It was a combination of less rice intake and more jogging activity around the Malacanan that broke the hold of fat on my body. I would not deny the ease of moving around after my pants became looser. There is liberty in knowing a small-sized shirt could snugly fit on my frame.
I am publishing this piece as a throwback to once was a goal that seem impossible to keep. Even after the two-week absence at the gym, I only gained a pound or two when I last stepped foot on a metal scale. I checked my weight at the same time I resumed jogging and strength conditioning and little fat do I have to burn, unless the metabolism slows once again.
When I look back, now that I have accomplished this kind of freedom, I realize that it was no longer the ex and the pain he caused that drove me to do this transformation. But instead, what started it all was a careless remark from someone, during our cuddle moment, telling what he felt as his arms wrapped around my shoulders.
"Para akong may kayakap na bear." He said affectionately.
"Teddy bear..." I would keep in mind his description, so that if ever he finds me on top of him again, he'll have a leaner bear to cuddle.
And he did.
Bear or buff, it no longer matter. After all these modifications I did to myself, maybe it's time to say I already have the last laugh.