Shedding the Winter Muffin Top
|Tips from Mr Universe runner-up
that we can all live by
Spring always inspires me. I want to rake and trim, eat healthy and start shopping for sexy, springtime clothes. This is circular, because I can’t actually always fit in existing clothes, and if I’m going to justify spending money on new clothes, well, I better look decent.
Invariably, I replay what a former trainer told me (A 3-time, 2nd and 3rd Mr Universe runner-up). He was big, black, built and bald.
“You’re not just eating the wrong foods,” he told me. “You are eating the wrong foods at the wrong time). He emphasized I required more protein, less carbs and most importantly, I needed to stop at 5 instead of starting at 8 pm. “Eat every two hours, no matter what, and eat your protein first.” He also said one other thing.
“Cardio two times a day until your body fails you,” without waiting to see if I understood him. “And that goes for weights, which you’ll do three times a week.”
At this, I protested. I was going to bulk up and turn my fat in to mass. He smiled, obviously hearing this before.
“Big thighs,” he said. “The worry of all women.” At that, the fine looking man said no more and took me for a tour of the place. Walking among these humongous men of color, I was one of two white people in the entire joint. I felt odd, out of place and frankly, ghostly in my white fatness. Sensing my discomfort, my newly-annointed trainer turned to me and muttered something like “you get points for showing up at 5 am.” I stood a little taller at that, I’ll admit. My big, bloaty butt wanted to me in bed.
We made our way to a row of women on the treadmill and other cardio. He asked a random sampling if he’d told them what he told me (repeating) and then asked “what happened?”
“I leaned out,” said one. “Lost three dress sizes,” said another.
“See?” he asked me. “You have to eat more, all the time and push until failure.”
Ahh. The point of the article. Whether it’s JK Rowling giving her famous Harvard commencement speech, or Mr Universe Runner up, the point is to push the mind and body to the point of failure. Then, and only then will you know you’ve made progress.
Yesterday, as I lifted the weights above my head (for I am still forbidden to walk on my bad leg, so am consigned to doing upper body only as my lower body goes suffers through physical therapy), I recall Mr. Universe runner-up. I push…I grimace…all the while consoled by the fact that tomorrow, my arms will thank me. So I continue, proceeding to push myself to the point where my arms collapse, literally failing to assist me any longer in the exercise.
With that, I stop. I have succeeded in my attempt to fail, and that’s what I wanted in the first place.