Brain retrain

A few days ago, I decided it was time to make a change. One problem I’ve had over the past few years is that I don’t work out consistently — which has lead me to gaining as much as 20 lbs over a “comfortable” weight, or about 30 lbs. over my mountain biking weight. This hasn’t come all at once, but over the past 3 or 4 years, which, incidentally, was the same time that gas prices starting hitting $2+ a gallon (seems so ridiculously cheap now), I stopped mountain biking daily and there were all kinds of changes at work. I had changed my routine to do lighter weights and higher reps in an effort to combat the growing fat tide, but instead, it just sapped my will to work out because I was bored. I went when I could, but I just didn’t care if I skipped a day, a week or a month or two.

But today marked my return to heavier weight training. And dear God, it felt great. Physically spent, mind sapped of extra energy. Sweet, sweet sauce.

Now, see, most people don’t take the mental aspect of lifting into consideration. My mind drifts in the gym. Sometimes I think about what’s been bugging me and channel all the anger and aggression into the weight. Sometimes, I’m philosophical. And sometimes I’m so far out in left field that if someone comes up and talks to me, it takes about 10 seconds to register. (The joys of an iPod and an active imagination.)

But besides getting my body used to the punishment, I’m finding I have to retrain my mind to focus on what I want to accomplish. This can be a little tricky to do, because I’m a very strict lifter — meaning I like to keep my reps slow and controlled, and my form as perfect as possible — so a lapse in concentration is all that stands between a good set and a bad one. When I’m in the correct zone, there is nothing else in existence except for me, the music in my ears and the weight in my hands. Nothing.

So, I got done with one particular lift, and noticed this college-aged girl looking at me. No, wait, let me rephrase that — not so much looking at me, but watching me. After every set I did, I could see her doing it. Now, sometimes she tried to be sly by using the mirrors (please sister, I worked in a gym for years, I know all the tricks), and other times it was just full on stare. And it went on for quite awhile. No matter where I was, her eyes were with me.

Now, here’s the thing — instead of feeling flattered, I was feeling anything but. And now that I’ve had a little bit of time to digest it, I think it all boils down to just one reason: I simply don’t get it.

I say this because there were obviously other men in the area. Other men her age. Other men with far better physiques than mine. Trust me, throw me in a lineup with the other guys, and it would be pretty darn obvious who needs to workout more.

And yet, here she is, looking at me. I just don’t get it.

Now, I should take the time to note that, currently, I am in a “High Mojo” cycle. See, when it comes to the world of attraction, I have 3 distinct cycles: “Nada,” “Season of the Freak” and “High Mojo.”

“Nada” means nothing I can, will or have done will make any difference in the eyes of the opposite sex. I could turn into Brad Pitt’s body double, and the only reaction I’ll get is “Oh. You look like Brad Pitt. How quaint. What’s the matter, can’t be yourself?”

“Season of the Freak” is when only the creme de la crazy will venture into my world, and orbit it. We’re talking these are the obsessed women, the ones who stalk, the ones that can recite my home address, the ones who hang outside of bar windows in 30-degree weather while wearing short-sleeved shirts just to see who I’m talking to. They’re the kind who just non-chalantly ask, “Hey, do you want to go fuck?” Oh yes, I’d love to, but I just got the feeling that the price and pain level of extracting your claws out of my back afterward are going to be entirely too high for one night of fun and danger.

“High Mojo” is probably the rarest of them all, but it always leaves me bewildered. This is when I’m not only noticing being eyed up, but quality, compatible women come along and there’s a normal, healthy, mutual interest. The main problem is these women come in waves, and by the time I figure out what’s going on, I’ve managed to shove them all away because, again, that I just don’t get it voice rears its head, and instead of being happy about my good fortune, I’m suspicious, close myself off and keep them all at arm’s reach.

And yet, I know I shouldn’t be so freaked. I mean, logically, I know the laws that govern attraction are so incomprehensibly strange that the only way to deal with them is to just hitch a ride and go wherever it leads. For Pete’s sake, I’ve dated models and women who were so attractive that other guys would walk up to them and say, “What are you doing with him?” (To which I would just laugh and say, “You mean besides fucking me senseless?” Oh the facial expressions — her laughter and his anger — double whammy!) This I just don’t get it mentality is something new, and really, it’s something that’s just gotta go. Like my gut.

So, I’m thinking that this workout retraining routine needs to be adapted to the dating aspect of my life. I don’t know how I got so far away from what I was (OK, I do know — sheer laziness), but, you know, it’s high time these lessons made a comeback. And the only way out is through. So strap yourselves in folks, I’m sure it’s gonna be a wild ride.


3 Responses to “Brain retrain”

  1. December 15, 2008 at 6:24 pm

    maybe you had a huge bat in the cave or something? lol. or, maybe she’s convinced that you do the “bang bang” like you lift weights…..slow and controlled.

  2. 2 Three
    December 15, 2008 at 11:58 pm

    LOL! See, whenever I get eyed up, I always figure someone stuck a “kick me” sign on my back, or there’s a squirrel on my head or something along that line — not that I’m all that and a bag of chips (especially in the gym — I just roll out of bed, brush my teeth and go. Mmmm … saucey bed head).

    And what’s extra creepy with that second comment is that technically, assuming she’s 20, I’m old enough to be her dad. Ewwwww!

  3. December 16, 2008 at 5:56 pm

    Were you by any chance wearing a “I RAPE ON THE FIRST DATE” T-Shirt? I find that people look at me weird when I wear mine.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s

Follow me, Twittering fools!

  • @ISeeAndHearYinz @PghCityGirl correct. 8 hours ago
  • Butthurt over being booted from a restaurant? Pghers, remember when servers stopped serving politicians for the Onorato Tax? 15 hours ago
  • On Luke Cage S2, I can't help but think that Bushmaster looks like the black version of the orange Jersey boys with the blowout haircuts. 17 hours ago
  • That moment when you do some meal prep for the week and it turns out so well you want to eat the entire thing in 1 shot. 1 day ago
  • Also with Luke Cage, I have to turn on the subtitles for the Dominican/Jamaican folks scenes. I'm officially "whitest whiteman" level. 1 day ago

Top Posts


Blog Stats

  • 28,354 hits

%d bloggers like this: