gym – John Lee Taggart

July 15, 2015July 16, 2015

ASS IN FACE (A Gym Story)

I’m not much of a talker at the gym…a nod and smile usually suffices most interactions – as the large majority of people just want to be in and out as soon as possible so the entire ordeal doesn’t drag any longer than necessary…

So like many others I put in my earphones and just silently do my time as if counting down a horrendous prison stretch…each set of exercises representing another etched line on the cell’s walls that leads up to freedom and release to the outside world – where sweaty groins and burning muscle pains are a lot less frequent. Unless you’re a pole dancer I suppose…

Anyway that doesn’t stop the chatty Kathys out there unfortunately, or the other talkative people who are not called Kathy for that matter. No Sir! There are still a few bizarre individuals who feel the best time to enter into conversation with strangers is when they are one squat away from being sick all over the dumbbell rack, or one strained leg press from caking their underpants…let me tell you this right now: these people are stupid – they should let people die alone, not interrupt their struggle and offer unwanted opinions on the weather and current events!

It makes me deeply saddened to report that despite being in South Korea I am not immune to these types. Just yesterday one entered my life, and just like herpes once you have a new buddy (even one that is against your will) there is no getting rid and you will have to face it every day. If you are in this situation you have my sympathy – but there is nothing that you, a doctor, or a personal trainer can do about it…you simply have to learn to coexist…errr yeah, I think I lost my train of thought a little…

Also may I add you may hear that a flamethrower will help alleviate this problem – I am not legally at liberty to comment. But…yeah, DO IT.

Anyway so back to the story – I was sat at a bench, except not a nice bench like a park bench, on which I can do nothing but listen to the birds sing in the trees, and smile at babies who just stare back dumbfounded…no you see this bench is different. On this bench I have to lift up heavy things, without moving them anywhere, and then put them down again…and then repeat. As if I am really indecisive like “hmmm where shall I put this, perhaps over here, perhaps over…err…nah just put it down and think again.” REPEAT, REPEAT, REPEAT! So is the life of the gym goer, and so was my situation in that moment.

So anyway while I was sat there an older but still rather fit looking (as in healthy, settle down you!) lady got right in front of me- despite there being quite literally all of the rest of the gym to stand. She then began some weird very bum orientated moves that I don’t know the name of, there was a lot of gyration going on…too much. They were like squats I suppose but more butt, and each movement was so close to me that I got a bit of a breeze with every rep.,.it made me uncomfortable…very, very uncomfortable…each bum jerk was the equivalent to a sloppy Aunt kiss when you’re 12 years old.

Now I’m a nervous fella at the best of the times but I felt like I knew how to deal with this one…so I deployed the good old half a clock method; I simply looked down at my phone, looked left at the Korean drama beaming on a small TV screen, then back to the mirror (looking only at myself…not even a glimpse to the right, oh no!) – and then repeat! You see I didn’t want anyone wagging a finger and shrieking “DID YOU JUST LOOK AT THE BUTT I AM SHOVING IN YOUR FACE?! HOW BLAAADY DARE YOU?! YOU FIEND YOU!”

Nahhhh, it was far too early for that sort of exchange – so I stuck to my guns. Even when the butt turned around, I stuck to the strategy…even when she stared right at me from two feet away, I tried…even when she began waving her hands in my face…I…well yeah, at that point I had no choice…

“Errr, hello?” I mumbled, removing my earphones which I had been led to believe served as a magical artifact which lets people know you are totally not up for conversation.

“How are ya?!” asked the butt lady, who seemed very keen to know all about me despite my dour expression. I nodded and mumbled something, before remembering my manners (after all I didn’t want to be mean). She then rambled on about something gym related that I didn’t understand at all, so to both change the subject and be kind I thought I’d try a compliment; “wow, you’re English is great by the way!” “Well yeah…I’m American.” she said in a solid monotone.

“Haha…well that explains that then…”

She snapped back from the silence and continued with questions as I wondered when it was socially acceptable to put my earphones back in and continue with my workout. You know, the REASON I am here in the first place! Five minutes passed and that time didn’t seem to come…then ten minutes trickled by….and then I felt I had to make it happen myself, so made my excuses and got my sweaty body out of there, despite not being done.

“See ya tomorrow then John!”

Argh man…I mean she’s so nice, bless her. But I don’t need a bud every morning at the gym (but now I have one, so oh well) I just need to be in and out! You know, put my body through hell till it cries so maybe, just maybe, I can eat pizza, bacon, and cheese without quite as much guilt as I do when I just have a lie in. I’m not a powerhouse masochist superhero model type who has ‘NO PAIN NO GAIN’ tattooed across their balls – instead I’m a degenerate blob who isn’t fond of movement across the board, especially (most) movements which make me grunt. oh…LIGHTBULB MOMENT!

What if I grunt really weirdly and say strange things when doing exercises?! Just brainstorming at this point but what about something like; “URGHHYEEEAAAAH, URGHHHH-AHHH-MILKKK, MILKKK, MIIIILKKKKKKKK! OHHHH – YOOLKKKS! EGGYYYYAAAARGHHH!”

I mean, surely no one will speak to me then? Even people named Kathy…well I’ll give it a go and let you all know…in the mean time enjoy your freedom my friends, unless you’re reading this in the gym – in which case, you have my pity…

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May 28, 2015May 28, 2015

Fitness Fails

To long-time readers it won’t be a surprise to hear me say that I have a rather…unorthodox approach to fitness. That is…only if I truly have to and/or are made to cry in a corner because of constantly being called a big lumbering hippo. Basically whenever I feel humongously gross enough that the townsfolk may be at my door any second with flaming torches and pitchforks – that’s when I renew my gym membership.

Every single time is an uphill climb – which is ironic I guess, as I never use that setting on the treadmill. Instead I just read up on some exercises that I will probably never do, look at diet plans I definitely won’t stick with, and imagine the figure I will possess once all of my hard work is realised…an adonis…a walking God amongst mere mortals.

Form an orderly queue, no shoving – no cutting in…

Some of my friends back home are really into it. They have all of the supplements, pills, lotions, and potions (alright, I’m embarrassing myself with my lack of knowledge here – but you know what I mean) – basically it isn’t a game to them, it’s some serious stuff. And no investment is thought of as too pricy, no addition unworthwhile…

I feel the same way about food so can totally empathise with their ardent dedicated stance…for me it’s like – “do you really want extra bacon, and cheese on this?” Yes, of course – don’t bother me with such stupid questions. “But John…it’s ice cream you shouldn-”

JUST MAKE IT HAPPEN!

But with these things you can often go overboard, and my friends have told me upon numerous occasions this has indeed happened…you really have to get the balance right with some of these pre-workout formulas it seems…obviously they help a lot or there wouldn’t be a market for them – but go too mad and you will be running around in circles for three days chasing a mirage of Arnold Schwarzenegger…

That’s due to the various chemicals you’ll find on the list of ingredients…which is basically a chunk of text only a scientist can make much sense of – all the (soon to be ripped) user needs to know is that it will get you well and truly pumped up! But wait, on the other end of the spectrum you have me, the struggling artist with my big cup of coffee..thinking I’m all that, until one of my fitness freak friends notifies me that some of those products out there have enough caffeine for 20 cups of coffee!

HOLY RAMBO BALLS THAT’S A LOTTA CAFFEINE!

As we all know, too much caffeine can lead to heart issues, and consequently difficulty with sleeping…so unsurprisingly my more fool-hardy (nice way of saying moronic) friends who well and truly over-dosed spent the subsequent nights staring at the ceiling shaking with excitement, or in one case lifting weights at the gym for four hours straight…only to be rudely interrupted by a phone call from a confused girlfriend asking what he was doing, and inquiring why he wasn’t home for dinner yet?! Well in his own words it was like he was high in a nightclub…and the weights room was his own private rave…there was no stopping him…

“Micky…MICKY! YOU DROPPED YOUR DUMBBELL MICKY!”

Anyway, I’m off for a pizza – but if fitness is your thang you can head over to etbfit.com and browse their selection…who knows, maybe it’ll be the difference between being a couch potato fitness fail connoisseur (me), and something more…just make sure you get the balance right unlike my pals!

#ETBFitFail!

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December 15, 2014December 15, 2014

According to Gym

Okay, so this is a reply to a rather cheeky email I received yesterday(you know who you are!)…

So the sender asked me how my fitness/diet regime was going…first thought was; “urghhh, fuck you!” Because come on! I am sure anyone with a single brain cell will be able to tell that a pizza/ice cream lover such as myself, won’t be making dramatic transformations any time soon! And I certainly haven’t.

WARNING! WARNING! EXCUSES ALERT! EXCUSES ALERT!

You see I had a lot on my plate, you know…I was working a lot, and took on a lot of extra projects; including the NaNoWriMo novel. So starving myself, and running till I want to kill myself – fell down the pecking order when it came to importance. Also food is so delicious, which is a bummer. I blame the companies…I blame the…chef…I blame…cheese. I blame YOU. Yeah, you reading this – it’s all your fault. I’m not sure why…but HOW DARE YOU.

Ahem. Sorry Will…I’m just joking, I have noticed some changes, I won’t show you the before picture…because I just looked and one of my nipples looks like a rotten hamburger for some reason, so the internet doesn’t need that. Trust me when I say I was a podgy little dumpling. The scales say I have only lost a gram (honestly!) since I begun, I did strip off like 2kg after a month or so, but then ice cream happened.

I feel half finished with it all, as I like doing weights, and that’s about it. I didn’t really get into it…the other day it was amazing, I was waiting for the elevator to go up to the gym…and I suddenly said to myself, “don’t go…how about we just don’t go?” And I was like, “yeah, great idea! Good thinking!” And then I turned around, and just walked out of the building, I felt like a fucking time traveller! I had just saved time, I was like Doctor Who or something, I was about to be thrown into some horrible time vortex for a couple of hours, but now I would be able to do whatever I wanted! Namely lying down. Great!

Anyway, this is the “progress” so far – which I was reminded that I I’d post (don’t recall this)…sorry about the middle finger, I am a little sensitive about my…well, everything.

I am leaving Korea tomorrow, and have a day in China (Beijing), before heading back to England for Christmas! That will ensure the demise of any healthy eating routine…but there’s always next year? Right? Right. Also I am going through a break-up right now, so that is double servings of ice cream right there…yes, thugs like me have feelings too.

Anyway…thanks for the email(s)! I really appreciate each, and every one of you guys – and I mean that sincerely! Merry Christmas if I don’t post again this month! Much love! x

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October 12, 2014

Losing weight.

I really want to lose weight. I am sick of it. It follows me around everywhere…clinging to me, dragging me down with no regard for how I feel. I have simply grew tired of this one sided relationship! So in desperation I tried to lose it in a shopping mall – I ran around a corner, and kept on running, hid in the bathroom for a little while…then meekly popped my head out to see if it had caught up, it hadn’t! But that moment of triumph was short lived…as it found me again in the food court. It always finds me eventually.

One time I tried to lose it in the countryside, I thought I would take it out, and trek up a huge mountain to wear it out – give a promise of a huge meal at the end of it, and then just leave it there – drive away, and let it starve to death. But then when I returned home, it was already in the kitchen, eyeing up the fridge and cupboards.

It will never leave me, I am stuck in this situation, and will be forever.

A friend of mine said she lost her fat, but it took over three years to do so…apparently it was agonizing, and there were a few occasions when she caved, and would meet up with it – ignore her better judgement, and have a date at Mc Donalds like the good old days! But after a while she cut it off completely…and rarely hears from it these days.

That gives me a glint of hope…maybe someday I can lose my fat too.

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October 6, 2014

The Dangle Dance ~

There are always funny little things that are peppered along our daily lives, that when looked at retrospectively, are a little odd. Like when you are on a narrow path, and you do the little OH-AH-HAHA! OH-AH-HAHA! jig until one of you finally gets bored and let’s the other past, or when you are in a confined space and someone with blaring earphones in, begins to sing…and you just have to stare forward and pretend it isn’t happening, or when someone has a t-shirt on with a lot of interesting text…so, naturally you want to read it (maybe it has vital information on it!?) – but you look like a Creepbot 3000 and have to avert your eyes, or when…well, I have many more – but I don’t want to divulge too much, in case these tidbits of weirdness are things that I alone suffer with!

Man I am so awkward, apologies! No, don’t apologise…you don’t want to seem weak, why do you always do this to us?!! Say nothing…don’t be sorry, look tough, like you don’t really care what people think…they don’t have feelings…neither do you…that’s it, you are a rock, a human rock – eyes forward, less redness in the cheeks, red isn’t tough…don’t smile at all…why are tears forming? Keep it up…

Urgh. Well, safe to say, there are always little amusing interludes to the daily grind, whether they occur in our heads or outside of them is largely irrelevant! This is a story, a little like those I just mentioned…but way, way, way (a lot of ways, but I figure you get the picture already) worse. The dangle dance, as I have dubbed it, is a considerably more horrifying creature than those little occurrences could ever aspire to be…

It all happened when I was at the gym, the dreaded gym. It has became both an everyday feature of my existence, but also the bane of it. What a horrible paradox to encounter every day, especially when I insist on eating so much fried foods almost immediately after it…but it is usually meat, so err…protein energy, for the muscle growing-ness, of the…yeah, yeah I know, whatever.

Everyday I step in there, and unfortunately the personal trainer guy has taken to speaking to me – this usually happens at gyms, as most will know, they come up and want to pretend like they are just chatting to you, they’ll be all “did you see this movie?” or “John, you’re looking well!” and you reply you didn’t watch the movie, even though you did – and you know they are lying about you looking well, because you just sweated a swimming pool, and also you wonder how they know your name all of a sudden?! Because you know it isn’t really friendly, it is just pretend friendly…the massive elephant in the room is you – you are the big fat elephant, and this personal trainer is trying to grease you up with compliments, and friendly chat – so he can charge you a gazillion gold coins, in exchange for him screaming orders at you, “pick this up, put this down, don’t eat, pull this, stop being sick…” But you can’t just say, “FUCK OFF PLEASE, THANK YOU.” That would be terribly rude, so instead you are forced to engage in these tedious conversations, and you are pressured into creating new excuses every time as to why you won’t be taking him up on his offer. I thought I would be free from these shackles at a Korean gym…but oh no, the personal trainer can speak English! Yesterday I found myself spending 40 minutes on a treadmill, even though I hate any form of cardio exercise, just waiting till he moved from the main weights section. This is my life for the foreseeable future.

This wasn’t even supposed to be about that, guess I just had to get it off my chest…my big, fat, flabby, man-boob chest…maybe I should just sign up with him. NO, I AM A TOUGH HUMAN ROCK, GODDAMMIT!

On the day in question I had narrowly dodged Shaun the personal trainer, maybe I would get away one of those conversations today…I sure hoped so. I still had my headphones on, and my eyes glued to the floor when I entered the changing room – this had been my way in which to slip by largely unnoticed – as I turned the corner the usual smell of men’s changing rooms hit me like a shovel to the nostrils; a damp, sweaty odor – the scent of unwashed privates, layered with cheap deodorant.

If the morning coffee hadn’t woke me up, then this sure did the trick. It was so strong, my eyes began to weep…

With my head still down, I turned another narrow corner, and bumped into someone – the greasy shower sweat combination clung to my clean clothes, I nodded in the mandatory “it’s fine” fashion, and stepped to the right…he stepped to the right…I stepped to the left…he stepped to the left, I looked up and was met with a wrinkly old man – OH GOD DON’T MAKE A BIG DEAL OF THE PENIS SITUATION – I smiled my best, and most convincing fake smile, as if I wasn’t freaked out, or mortified – and politely stepped to the right, but he went the same way again…argh! Left again, nope he stepped left again! When would this stop?! He chuckled, as I accidentally caught sight of the…errr…thing again…maybe this was a perverse joy for him, maybe he was waiting around the corner and he gets his kicks from it. I laughed, but looked to the distance so there was no way I would be able to sneak a glimpse of his grey testicles again, we did the little dangle dance once more before I pushed past him…there is only so much a person you can take – if we went by his rules we would be there doing a little penis cha-cha for the rest of the day.

On a totally unrelated side note – his grandfather cock, got me thinking about grandfather clocks…is that where they get their name from? Did a clock-maker have a similar run in like this, and it gave him a rather fruity idea? Because so far, that makes a lot of sense to me…no? Hmm…alright.

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September 26, 2014October 21, 2014

GTL (Gym Tastes Lackadaisical)

I looked in the mirror yesterday after a shower, and just thought “you fat cunt” – actually I said it out loud (is that worse or better?), this was followed by a look of disdain from both myself and the reflection that stared back at me. I practically wept…I mean, what the hell has happened to me?!

“IT’S NOT MEEEE – IT CAN’T BEEEEEEEEE?!?!?!?!”

I don’t know what it is…there’s just something about looking like a huge slab of pork, that makes me vomit in my mouth every time I catch sight of myself. I wished that I could refer to my gigantic sides as love handles, but right now they are just flabby masses that my tighter t-shirts can no longer handle – yeyyyy, baggy shirts that make me look like even more of a walrus! Great. I wish I could be all sassy and “I’m comfortable with who I am, so if you don’t like it, fuck off” but that’s not me at all…

Instead I am left to dwell on the poor quality human I am…maybe this is too much information, but I don’t think the man-boob nipple area is supposed to look as much like a beef burger as mine does – I suppose they do say you are what you eat though, so in that sense – fair enough. That theory would also explain my fatty chicken thighs, pork chop cheeks, jelly belly, and spotted dick. hahaha! I’m just joking…or am I? No I am…or…no I am.

Anyway, I decided that I had to do something about it so immediately signed up for the local gym in my new town! I was full of so much enthusiasm that first day, I quite literally hopped and skipped all the way there! I was ready to get started!

“White men can’t jump? FUCK YOU STEREOTYPES! God, I’m thirsty.”

It was an absolute nightmare. Just checking, but are you supposed to feel sick after every single movement? You’re not right? Even the ones where you get to sit down are a challenge…who ever thought sitting down would be anything but nice? You have to push the heavy things, pull the heavy things, pick them up…put them down, do it again, have a break (but not like a tea and biscuit type break, just water) – but you know…oh, you know – that soon you will be going back to the same thing in just a few short moments. I mean it’s terrifying really. My body was literally screaming, STOPPPPPPPP, PLEASE STOP, IF YOU STOP WE CAN GET A DOUGHNUT AND JUST FORGET ABOUT THIS WHOLE THING! And I was inclined to agree with my body, but then of course there are mirrors everywhere and you remember why you are there in the first place – the reason being that it looks like you are wearing a life jacket under your clothing, and you are worried people may use you as a buoyancy aid should you be swimming in the sea.

I have taken a “before photo”, which is just beyond gross – in the hope that I can compare it with the after model that I will carve out…which will hopefully be an amazing, superbly chiseled physique, …God like if you will…but not like beardy and robes, but all Greek…in short, I want to transform myself into a creature of mythological proportions, a person who inspires awe, so much so that people tell stories to their children about me…possibly even folk songs, or cave paintings…

This will be me at the New Year countdown ~

“I LIKEA DO DA CHA-CHA AT THA GUN SHOW!”

That’s not asking too much, surely?

I am returning home for Christmas this year, first time in three years that I will spend it with my family (missed the last two, booohooo!) By my rough estimations, (which are not fueled by mathematical and/or scientific evidence) – this should be more than enough time to right the wrongs that I have did to myself.

“There’s no such thing as too much groin.”

In other, entirely unrelated news – boxes of Krispy Kreme are buy one get one free today. Good times!

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