It's a Girl Thing

I'm in a little bit of a dilemma now. I think I would need advice from girls, because this is a 'girl' problem.

You see, some girls can be rather critical of the bodies of their male counterparts. Common criticisms sent flying my direction include, "Why your calves look like chicken leg?, "Why you so scrawny?" or "Why you so fair?" Sadly, they occur more often then I would've liked. Perhaps it is the mass media and the repeated bombardment of images of tanned, sculpted and masculine bodies. Perhaps it stems from evolutionary selection, that women are attracted to men of such built because of the perception that they provide a sense of security. Here, I also want to note that besides craving physical security, they also want emotional security AND financial security. They want all these layers of security weaved into a beautiful piece of tapestry and served on a silver platter. But really? You want the best of ALL worlds? If your ideal man sounds too good to be true, he probably is. This 'sweep-me-off-my-feet' fairy-tale thinking generates a whole host of other problems. But that is a post for another time.

As a result of such societal pressures, males are compelled to conform. They turn up at the gym in droves. They pump iron and ingest overwhelming quantities of processed protein, all in their bid to improve their aesthetics. With their increased gait comes an insatiable appetite for ever bigger and bigger muscles. Ironically, none of this fitness is functional. The gym exercises are typically one dimensional, leading to muscle imbalances and chronic weakness in the stabilizers. But who cares, since women go for form over function!

Despite all the criticisms, strangely, it is this same body which is capable of walking a 32km route march with a 12kg field pack, of jogging and swimming every week, of doing several one-arm pull or/and push ups and of climbing an 8a route. In rock climbing lingo, 8a means that the problem is not so easy. It is also this same body that drags itself to training on even the worst of days. I'm clear about my goals, and my training is steeped in the philosophy of specificity. Sorry, but I prefer function over form.

Whenever such a scenario hits me like a bolt from the blue, I'm rendered dumbfounded. The rudeness of it knocks the wind out of me. For me, interaction with others is done on the premise of thoughtfulness and consideration. That some people can be so woefully unaware of such etiquette is somewhat of a culture shock for me.  Composure regained shortly after, three courses of action present themselves. Should I..

Why You So Irresponsible?!

A friend heard that I was going to France for 6 week for a rockclimbing trip post graduation. He/she enquired as to whether I've found a job yet, to which I responded that I haven't had such luck. In a passing remark, he commented, "So you haven't found job yet can go holiday already arh?"

At this point, the temperature in the air began to chill. All the baby blue in the sky was draining, revealing dank colours of moody grey and angst black. Cumulonimbus clouds were packing into itself in buffeting rolls of thunderstorm. As the tempest gathered momentum, the overcast sky threatened to tip over and unleash all its bone-chilling contents onto the unsuspecting passers-by below.  

Alice in Wonderland

One friend came up to me for climbing advice.

"How do I get stronger?", she started. "First, you think to think about your goals in climbing", I replied. I started talking about how motivation should be intrinsic, about how the impetus should first come from the climber. But before I could fully elaborate on my points, she cut in with another question, "So how many sets of PT do you think I should do?" 

I was exasperated. Our conversation continued to meander endlessly in such a roundabout way. My points weren't hitting the mark, much less making an impact.

There and then, I knew the conversation had warped into a classic case of "Don't give advice unless the person is listening". I thought hard about how to extricate myself out of this predicament, and then the solution elegantly presented itself to me. I shall quote her a story.. One Lewis Carroll wrote in 1865.

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?", said Alice.
"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.
"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.
"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.
"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.
"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

I think the message got across in the end :)

The Five Love Languages

Ok so my friend lent me this book upon my request. Laugh away, but in a few days time, be prepared to see a more charming version of Jansen Ko!

I've started reading.. and here's my favourite lesson so far:

Psychologists, psychiatrists, sociologists, anthropologists and educators have suggested in countless studies and numerous research papers that love is a "learned response, a learned emotion.".. Most of us continue to behave as though love is not learned but lies dormant in each human being and simply awaits some mystical age of awareness to emerge in full bloom. Many wait for this age forever. We seem to refuse to face the obvious fact that most of us spend out lives trying to find love, trying to live in it and dying without ever truly discovering it.

- Professor Leo Buscaglia

Tiger Mum

So I was having a leisurely swim at the swimming pool. It was just me and another sunny afternoon, clocking laps in the bid to keep that engine oiled. Minutes passed, and the scenery stayed the same. Raise head out of water, inhale, splash back into water, exhale. The monotony of the sound of water flooding and then trickling out of my ears was only interrupted by the entrance of the main characters of this blog post. 

A middle aged woman emerged, with two young boys in tow. By the looks of it, the boys couldn't be older than ten years old. 

"Get into the pool!", barked the mother. "Today we are doing 40 laps."

"But Mum! Daddy says we're only supposed to do 35 laps..", bargained the older boy. 

"No buts! I say 40 means 40!", the mother rebuked. The two boys were disgruntled, but they meekly obeyed. The younger boy was only too happy to leave the bargaining, and subsequent scolding, to his older brother.