Meth: a Ticking Timebomb Gone Viral

The Paradox of Weight Loss

I've been busting my ass training almost every day. And do you think I can lose a single kilo? Sure, I'm carrying a lot more muscle than I was before this 'quit drugs and get healthy' idea began. And here's the conundrum. The more I train, the hungrier I get...the more I eat the stronger I get...the stronger I get, the more muscle I carry and the more muscle I carry the more I eat.

It's an endless cycle of good health combined with a strong body. Not a bad thing, but when I look in the mirror (and please don't get me started on bathroom scales), all I see are places where I want to be thinner. I'm almost sixty and should be happy with where I am at. It's nothing six months of intense callisthenics with a personal trainer can't fix. The only problem with that is I'm lazy. Don't get me wrong because I do train hard. Everyone at my gym must think I'm mute because while they stand around talking shit, I'm knocking out sets in quick succession. I wish I could claim it's because I'm hardcore, but the reality is that the less time I spend in the gym, the happier I am.

Confession time...I am not a gym junkie. I just want the results. If only there was a pill I could take instead of spending three hours a week sweating my ass off watching people lifting way heavier than they should by sacrificing form. It's all I can do not to coach them on proper technique. That would not only upset their apple carts (and alienate even more people) but would mean spending more time in the weights room than I already do.

I had some dramas last night and didn't sleep well. Then, at around 4.30 am, it began to rain. It didn't stop raining until mid-morning. I decided not to go to the gym and surprisingly, didn't beat myself up too much, thinking that there was always tomorrow. I'm carrying a few niggling injuries anyway and thought the extra day off would give me more time to recover. A physio would recommend six weeks off weights altogether, to allow the injuries to properly heal. But I know from experience that once I went back, the same injuries would return. So, I just train through the pain. Lucky for me I have an unlimited supply of a non-addictive, placebo analgesic. My prescriber/dealer's name is Angel, and all it will cost me for her services is my soul once I'm dead. There are other benefits to having my own personal in-house demon, but a gentleman never kisses and tells.

The rain cleared this afternoon, so to make up for not doing weights in the morning, I went for a walk (and got a haircut while I was out) and when I got back, I swam laps (so much for giving the injuries a break). At the pool, there was a young Russian couple with their two-year-old daughter. Having had daughters myself, I have a real thing for girls, and she was as cute as they come. I said hi, and began my first set. Then, as I rested, I looked at the cutie and smiled. I saw her earlier in the day with her dad catching butterflies with a net, so to break the ice, I asked her if she had caught any. Kids are so easy to befriend, and it truly is a shame they have to grow up. Then, once it appeared the parents were ready to go, and she didn't want to leave, I pretended to be a crocodile. At first, she got out of the water quick smart. But my plan backfired and the crocodile game became fun. Eventually, they got her out of the water and the most beautiful thing happened. She was all wrapped up in a towel being carried by her father when she looked at me and blew kisses...my heart melted and I realised I had finally found a friend.