Nowadays, one can hardly miss fitness centre or gym in major cities. Even in smaller towns, fitness centres are everywhere. This is contrast with 10 years ago. I've been reading fitness magazine since 2002. Back then. I was just a fat geeky boy. I hope by reading fitness magazine, it would motivate me to a better physique. Imagine those buff beach boys in speedos or board shorts. With washboards abs where one can grate cheese. Pecs nicely form like a slab of steak. Biceps, big enough to carry sexy girls. Yup, back then, one can get orgasm just by looking at the cover of fitness magazine. Models posing, men women alike, they are just sexy. An ugly, out of shape lad can get his eyes turn green from envy. Or lusting to have those hard, ripped body no one can't resist.
So after finishing my O-level (equivalent), my cousin, Abigail and I bought some fitness equipment. The first equipment is 2 pair of dumbbells, 3 kgs and 4 kgs and a Kettler spring rower. We are still learning how to drive so we went to the town by bus. Imagine carrying 14 kgs of dumbbells in a bus during peak hours. I still keep the 4 kgs dumbbells. I gave the 3 kgs to a friend and the spring rower is nowhere to be found although I'll be glad if I know where it is. I miss those things.
Back then gym membership is usually exclusive to bodybuilders or rich gym rats. So with those equipment, we started to exercise. I manage to lose weight but not so much. Metrosexualism is still hot back then.
I like my dumbbells so much, I bring them along to college in 2005. At the college, I was looking for some 'gym buddies' but most of the boys are more into playing sports like football/soccer or well, football. Thanks to all the top football players, everybody has a football fever. Everybody wants to be a Ronaldo or a Beckham or a Totti. However some are into pumping irons. So my dorm is an unofficial gym. At least 5 boys would play with my stuffs. And I accidentally, turn one into a Hulk. Wow! it's unfathomable that me, a fat boy inspire somebody into fitness.
A friend of mine had a unique way to tone her abs. By lying down, and putting dumbbells on her abs. That taking 'pumping iron' too literal. By the way, she is now a seriously into fitness.
Sometimes, dumbbells are not enough. So my friend and I tried improvising a pulley machine. We tired a 15 kgs fire extinguisher with a skipping rope and pass the rope through the transom and pull the rope from the other side. Pretty clever eh?
In the University, I got busier and had no time to exercise. There's a gym next to the faculty, but my friend and I got intimidated by the buff, state bodybuilder. Reflecting back, why are we so afraid of bodybuilders. Maybe if we keep our fear and ego aside, we would be the one representing our state in bodybuilding or at least power lifting.
Looking back, becoming fit nowadays is easier than before with the proliferation of fitness centre, cheaper membership and more potential gym buddy and everybody is doing it.
Now my favourite gym equipment is a Swiss ball, dumbbells and resistance band. But I wish I can buy myself a rowing machine.
Showing posts with label good old days. Show all posts
Showing posts with label good old days. Show all posts
Tuesday, 11 November 2014
Tuesday, 28 October 2014
As promised, a story on magazine mate.
Growing up in the 1990s has its perks. We have better music, better musician... and all Canadian musicians are way cooler. Justin Bieber is a disgrace to Canada. I don't hate Justin Bieber, I dislike his behaviour.
In my late teenage years, metrosexualism is a craze. There are magazine targeted to these kind of people; my kind of people. One of my favourite magazine was/still is CARGO. Too bad it is discontinued. Fortunately GQ and Details are still in the market.
At 17, I was sent to a college for matriculation. There was this chap, we kinda share the same interest. Architecture, fashion and gadgets... we could talk about these topics for hours.
Yup, he is also metrosexual. Once, he made his hair at 5 am. I caught him styling his hair in the bathroom at 5 am when I was about to take my shower. (Water supply sucks over there, I would rather wake up early for a shower, alone than waiting in a smelly, sweaty bathroom with jillions of other 'testosterony' adolescent.) 5 am just to style his 'faux hawk'.
My magazine collection is also an unofficial lending library. He would borrow some magazines from me.
We shared a lot of interest. A room mate of mine once teased us that we would be a great couple. Whatttttt? It's platonic ok. Nothing erotic. No doubt, he's good looking, but it's platonic. I have no interest in having a relationship with him.
His interest in architecture is mainly on the Renaissance architecture, rose windows in particular. I like art-deco or neo-classical more, any style during the turn of century. And also Frank Lloyd Wright's
ahhhhh... the metrosexual days...
hugs and kisses
Wing-wong the cute dog
Growing up in the 1990s has its perks. We have better music, better musician... and all Canadian musicians are way cooler. Justin Bieber is a disgrace to Canada. I don't hate Justin Bieber, I dislike his behaviour.
In my late teenage years, metrosexualism is a craze. There are magazine targeted to these kind of people; my kind of people. One of my favourite magazine was/still is CARGO. Too bad it is discontinued. Fortunately GQ and Details are still in the market.
At 17, I was sent to a college for matriculation. There was this chap, we kinda share the same interest. Architecture, fashion and gadgets... we could talk about these topics for hours.
Yup, he is also metrosexual. Once, he made his hair at 5 am. I caught him styling his hair in the bathroom at 5 am when I was about to take my shower. (Water supply sucks over there, I would rather wake up early for a shower, alone than waiting in a smelly, sweaty bathroom with jillions of other 'testosterony' adolescent.) 5 am just to style his 'faux hawk'.
My magazine collection is also an unofficial lending library. He would borrow some magazines from me.
We shared a lot of interest. A room mate of mine once teased us that we would be a great couple. Whatttttt? It's platonic ok. Nothing erotic. No doubt, he's good looking, but it's platonic. I have no interest in having a relationship with him.
His interest in architecture is mainly on the Renaissance architecture, rose windows in particular. I like art-deco or neo-classical more, any style during the turn of century. And also Frank Lloyd Wright's
ahhhhh... the metrosexual days...
hugs and kisses
Wing-wong the cute dog
Monday, 27 October 2014
receiving shocking text from an old friend
a few minutes ago, an old friend send me text message telling me how difficult it is for her to reciprocate my love.... WHATTTTTT? Apparently, she sent the message to the wrong person. What a relief. I gave her a call to tell her that she sent the message to the wrong person, and we chatted...
This particular friend is special to me. I first met them (her family, in fact, I befriended the whole family including her late husband and her children.) in a small town, beside a big river... I'm very secretive... :P I want to maintain anonymity here.
her late husband was a pastor. A good one. They welcomed me to their family with open arms. Miss the good old days. They would invite me to cook together. Yup, I love cooking. We would prepare something from their small kitchen ( 2m X 2m). But we are happy despite the fact that we cook simple dishes. We would exchange recipe. Once, I prepared sushi in their kitchen. I have to use canned tuna as they are not fond of the idea of eating raw fish. Sometimes she would ask me to search new recipe in the internet. Myriads of new recipe came out of that little kitchen. From apam balik to kueh ketayap. Sushi to spaghetti. Ah, the good old days.
What I miss most is my sleep-over. I spent some of my weekends there. I would say that old dilapidated house/church is more welcoming than mansions surrounding it. ( it's actually kinda ghetto minus the bad people... ) No wonder any visit to the ghettos makes me somewhat happy. Ghettos, Sabbath, Jews... what a coincidence. This couple have 3 living children. The eldest daughter is mute and deaf. However, despite the so called language barrier, I can communicate with her. I learn some sign language from them. She is funny. The second one is a boy. He is also funny, but at that time, he usually dressed as emo. The youngest is cheeky. And I sometimes had a quarrel with him. ( I'm immature at some point...) Their father was a very good man. I couldn't emphasize more.
Enough with the long introduction, back to the story. Apparently, a young man is falling deeply in love with this particular friend. She made a lot of excuses to 'repeject' the young man. She still miss her late husband. We chatted for 38 minutes reminiscing the old days. On how oblivious I am to women. On how lucky I am not caught in the spiderwebs and traps made by a 'crazy' lady. On how we tried new recipes... 38 minutes.
In fact, I still miss her late husband. I miss the whole family. I miss the 'ghetto' house.
that's all for now...
XOXO
not-el-hermoso
repeject= repel/reject; a portmanteau
someday, I'll write a story on the crazy lady. Hey, don't hate me for calling her crazy, but she is creepy... seriously (well they say call a spade a spade... or sekop wakakakakakaka...)
This particular friend is special to me. I first met them (her family, in fact, I befriended the whole family including her late husband and her children.) in a small town, beside a big river... I'm very secretive... :P I want to maintain anonymity here.
her late husband was a pastor. A good one. They welcomed me to their family with open arms. Miss the good old days. They would invite me to cook together. Yup, I love cooking. We would prepare something from their small kitchen ( 2m X 2m). But we are happy despite the fact that we cook simple dishes. We would exchange recipe. Once, I prepared sushi in their kitchen. I have to use canned tuna as they are not fond of the idea of eating raw fish. Sometimes she would ask me to search new recipe in the internet. Myriads of new recipe came out of that little kitchen. From apam balik to kueh ketayap. Sushi to spaghetti. Ah, the good old days.
What I miss most is my sleep-over. I spent some of my weekends there. I would say that old dilapidated house/church is more welcoming than mansions surrounding it. ( it's actually kinda ghetto minus the bad people... ) No wonder any visit to the ghettos makes me somewhat happy. Ghettos, Sabbath, Jews... what a coincidence. This couple have 3 living children. The eldest daughter is mute and deaf. However, despite the so called language barrier, I can communicate with her. I learn some sign language from them. She is funny. The second one is a boy. He is also funny, but at that time, he usually dressed as emo. The youngest is cheeky. And I sometimes had a quarrel with him. ( I'm immature at some point...) Their father was a very good man. I couldn't emphasize more.
Enough with the long introduction, back to the story. Apparently, a young man is falling deeply in love with this particular friend. She made a lot of excuses to 'repeject' the young man. She still miss her late husband. We chatted for 38 minutes reminiscing the old days. On how oblivious I am to women. On how lucky I am not caught in the spiderwebs and traps made by a 'crazy' lady. On how we tried new recipes... 38 minutes.
In fact, I still miss her late husband. I miss the whole family. I miss the 'ghetto' house.
that's all for now...
XOXO
not-el-hermoso
repeject= repel/reject; a portmanteau
someday, I'll write a story on the crazy lady. Hey, don't hate me for calling her crazy, but she is creepy... seriously (well they say call a spade a spade... or sekop wakakakakakaka...)
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