To all the ladies who were thinking to themselves “if Sam were just a little more muscular, I would totally be down” I have a few things to say: I am giving up on getting muscular and fuck you. For two years I have had an on again off again, will they won’t they relationship with working out. I was going to work out not to be healthy, but to be hunky. I had a mentality that if I didn’t get my movie star body, I would not be able to get the girl of my dreams(who changes daily and can range from fictional movie character such as Norah form Nick & Norah’s Infinite Playlist to the blow up doll from Lars and the Real Girl).
My attempted transformation from lanky and underweight to muscular and photoshopped has been labeled Operation Taylor Lautner, and like the namesake actors career- today, the operation is over. My days of GTL, Gym Tan Laundry, minus tan and laundry, are no more.
It all started two years ago after a gut-wrenching rejection by a female. I said to myself “if only I was muscular, if only my tits exploded from my 3 sizes too small shirt, if only I was big like Tom Hanks- that girl would have been all over me.” So with my defeated state of mind, I began working out. Without any real routine I lifted weights in my dorm room daily. The results didn’t come quick enough, which is unusual for me, so I gave up.
Last year round two began as I thought to myself “girls don’t care about arms they care about toned, rock hard abs.” A friend told me my anorexic frame was perfect to get abs easily and if I did Ab Ripper P90x, I would see results in no time. I began doing the program four times a week for eight months. But again the results I wanted did not come, like all my female partners.
At the end of this past summer I decided this was it. Round three, it was time to join the gym and get on a routine. I committed myself to going 2-3 days a week. For 2 months I kept up this regimen. I would lift weights, drink 3 protein shakes a day, and I even ate egg whites. But again, no one was coming, and I have finally decide I am ok with it. Working out sucks anyways.
Some people get that workout high, they exclaim there is no better feeling than the one you get after a workout. Well all I felt after working out was nauseous. I am nauseous enough in my life as it is. Unless you are a devoted bulimic, nausea is not euphoric.
Also, food is too good. They say you need to eat right and eat well to get a hot bod. I definitely eat well- but not in a healthy sense. I love eating out! I like to make my way down to a restaurant or fast food joint every day if I can. I just can’t give up the gluten, calories, and my taste buds, to eat Kale and assorted legumes- all for the sake of massive arms.
At this point, if you are still reading, you are probably thinking “all this sounds great! You were eating better, getting regular exercise, if you keep it up, the results will come and you will be muscular and healthy!” The issue is, I do not care to be healthy. I really enjoy being lazy. I am 5’10, 130 pounds, and 20 years old. I can worry about my health when I’m dead. I was only doing it to get girls and I have decided that I am happy to play the part of the quirky lanky awkward guy. If my belief in “life is a movie” is correct, which my imaginary friend Theodore T. McGuffin assures me it is, according to the classic Hollywood trope I should get a quirky girl whose out of my league very soon.