“How much do you bench?”
The dreaded question that is the audio comparative of whipping out your tally whacker and comparing sizes. Men everywhere seem to be in a constant bonerized state by finding out they’re bigger/stronger/more “manly” (what the hell does that even mean?) than any guy they can get their paws on.
Everyone these days seems so enthralled by everyone else that they completely disregard the time they should leave to focus on themselves. Once you realise that the true reason other people put you down is because they themselves feel inadequate then it will set you at mental ease. As a fairly slim, not too impressive 56kg 18 year old who’s interested in fitness you can imagine what treatment I get from other gym rats. Which, by the way, seems to be the perfect description.
“Wow Charlie, you’re so skinny”
“Do you actually lift?”
“I’m guessing you’re more into yoga type stuff than weights right?”
None of these comments came from very impressive people to me. Impressive… think about who you really find impressive. Is it people who have overcome serious odds? Someone who makes everyone laugh when they want to cry? Someone you know you can trust with any secret? Or is it Billy big balls down the gym who can bench a house but can’t touch his toes. That’s right Billy, I’m calling you out.
I think it’s time a lot of male and female fitness enthusiasts realised that in the real world, nobody actually cares about your squat or your bench. Nobody on instagram cares that you had broccoli and rice for lunch and an egg white omelette for breakfast. Stop going out of your way to try and show you’re better than those that surround you and focus on being the best version of you. I think Billy’s trying to compensate for something downstairs maybe…
You know what is impressive? Your dick size. But not that dick size. The size of the dick…in your heart. That’s right. I’m talking about health and fitness and mentioning things other than weights right now. Holy shit. This is revolutionary, right? Normal people DO NOT CARE what you lift. Billy might do, but he’s always in the gym pumping his guns or flexing his quads because heaven forbid he misses an arm/leg/text-and-flex day. Sasha might care but she’s too busy taking pictures of her butt in leggings while she does downwards dog…on a swiss ball…holding a shake weight. The only reason they care is because they want to know they’re better than you.
Leg day. People talk about skipping leg day like they skipped their mum’s funeral. Honestly, calm your tits and have a sandwhich. Oh…you’re avoiding carbs…sorry. Remember that long time ago when you used to exercise for fun? Because you enjoyed it?! Not because you’re trying to impress your mates or show off your calves to that girl across the bar who really isn’t going to snog your face off because you pumped the guns real hard.
Essentially what I’m trying to get at is – step out into the real world and look around. Health, fitness and lifting should be a hobby, a thing you enjoy, something that makes you happy and only concerns you. The whole industry seems to be centered around one massive dick and ass measuring competition. It comes from the media and being consistently told through adverts or posters or magazines that we are not good enough.
I know what the meaning of life is and it’s not flex Friday; it’s happiness. Everything you ever do should be centered around making you, the ones you love and the people around you happy. You are the one person who can control how happy you are. Choose to be happy, don’t choose to be an idiot. Skip that chest session for a pizza and film with your mates once in a while and I bet my bottom dollar you’ll be better off for it.