Living without Pain.
No i'm not a mummy's boy
Pain is ugly.
Pain is a signal.
Pain can be hurtful.
But there was a time when I never knew I could ever willingly put myself in pain.
If I were meant to do anything painful, it was either a punishment or a necessary evil to just get by.
Like studying to pass an exam, or lifting something out of my way, or, on a lighter note, accepting something wrong done by my elder brother (this was when I couldn’t get justice from my parents).
Exercise
Now, about exercise. If you live in the third world, you know that the gym is basically seen as a luxury because the average man gets his physical activity from daily home chores and walking.
Then I met a muscular neighbor, average height and portrayed a picture of what a well-built man could look like.
He took care of himself and his car very well by lifting weights on a daily basis and washing the latter almost every morning or evening.
My late elder sister noticed how well built he was and also complimented his looks, and I wished to be like him.
Slowly, I showed interest in lifting. It didn’t take long; he was preparing his visa to travel abroad.
He was also a baller, and that was the means he used to go out of the country.
That didn’t deter me. His younger brother also lifted, and I joined him in training daily.
I started getting used to making pain my friend.
My mom has always had this skeptical attitude towards slimmer people. She felt since nature didn’t make them big, they shouldn’t subject themselves to too much stress.
To be honest, she was right about a lot. Because as of then I didn’t get the full picture even of the people I was envying.
They didn’t just lift - they walked, played sports or ran at times that made them cardiovascularly fit.
They didn’t just eat randomly - they ate mostly after workouts and cooked most of their meals.
Their schedules were not as stressful and rigid as mine - they had more control of their day.
And to cap it all, as far as I know now, most fitness gurus online have undergone one surgery or the other as they got older.
My main issue was how she was 100% against me lifting any weight aside from inevitable house chores. In other words, she only wanted to protect me from any unforeseen circumstances.
My daily chores then and my journey to begin lifting weights
At that point we had water running into the house only in the mornings, so we had to fill all the drums with it.
That was the physical activity she felt was safe and okay.
So when she saw me lifting weights in the compound, she did cry. And I mean she literally CRIED.
When I went to school, I didn’t have access to that equipment, and most importantly, my quality of food at decreased drastically.
To make matters worse, i was too busy in school to start learning about healthy foods and nutrition. I didn’t even know how important it was.
I got sick. My health crashed. My priorities changed.
The journey to self-actualization began.