Redefining Physique

Despite desires to be other and contrary to extended efforts, I must acknowledge my body type has shifted to dense manifestation.

I have gained 40 pounds over time from my usual steady 146, while my focus has been to draw it all in for more of a sustaining powerkick.

It can more readily be seen why ascribing to media hype and pining for my own acquisition of leanness has “weighed” so heavily (har har!) upon me.

I have rarely come close to the physical form’s expression that I desire – mainly due to the struggle for consistency during repeated periods of disruption.

The product of my efforts is that I am built solid to lift furniture and wield sword and shield in my family’s favor.

I joked once with a client, “Hulga is pleased to work with you” – this being a relationship where we enjoy laughter, and due to on this day he had asked me to push into his pain, directly.

But I am not bulk-blocky – just core dense, with long legs and capable arms and the curving shoulder carriage that graces any mother and caregiver.

I am no string-bean waif running around, invested in makeup and hair products while tossing chest and rump about to elicit capture of a latest mating prize.

Who funds these parodies, anyway?

What they have attained requires a severe lack of responsibility – or at least a steady influx of external guidance, coddeling, and financial stability.

I had sought to obtain coaching from a body building professional, but made the mistake of walking into one gym where the owner manipulated my inclusive affability into making his wife jealous.

I think it is safe to say I am now barred from that gym’s entry – after his wife in no uncertain terms literally bared her teeth at me.

I did not want to be formed into a tankerous powerlifter, anyway.

I then tried another coach with good ideas, but the exercises that she suggested reactivated old injuries to where my quads and anterior hip attachments are always seizing, and their fibers pain-screaming at me with nearly every step I take these days.

Luckily, I have a hip specialist working with me and cupping is slowly unwinding these micro stuck-on-bone fiber torsions.

It has not been fun feeling like I am becoming a youth zombie.

“No paaaiiinnnn….give me no paaaaiiinnn…” is becoming my mantra’s theme.