Just got out of the gym. Worked out some damn sweat. I try doing this at least three times a week, and so far, at the weigh-in, nothing much has changed. Read: I continue growing. Or bulging.
This has become the story of my life after law school. No more classes to rush to, no more late night readings, no more calorie-burning recitations. Much as I'd like to stand the temptations of food and sleep, alas, I'm just plain human to eventually succumb to the relentless call of pleasure.
The guilt bugs me every time I indulge, thus the torment at the gym. I bust my lungs doing the treadmill, strain all muscles lifting plates, but .. okay, I admit, it looks like a losing battle already. For one, I don't think I'd ever get to where I desire if there's not even the slightest improvement in the amount of weights I could push. It's been weeks and I still can't get past the 50-pound mark. I wonder, where in heaven's name did those creatures beside me get the superhuman strength to push those heavy barbells, sometimes even heavier than their bodies?
Maybe that's what I need - superhuman powers. So, come vacation time, I resolve to scour the boondocks of Capul to find the equivalent of Captain Barbell's powers so I could transform into one buffed demigod at a shout. But knowing the number of souls who are similarly combing the place for same talisman, I guess that must have been taken by now.
So, what other options do I have left. Dra. Belo and the Calayans? Yes, they remain as very serious options, but penniless as I am, I may not even have the money to simply secure an appointment. Back to the drawing boards.
As it is, it's pretty clear that I've got no other choice but to spend more time in the gym. Or maybe there still is. Why don't I just eat, sleep and exercise in my dreams? Maybe it's indeed useless trying to fight the ravages of nature. Agree?