So it’s kind of an established thing these days for a guy to go to a gym to get muscles simply so that he can look good in a tight fitting shirt when he goes to a club. Does no one else think that this is kind of weird? That people build muscles solely for appearance sake, and that beyond the gym visit and picking-up-the-drink-at-the-bar flex, these muscles have little function? Working out just to look desirable has always seemed frankly neurotic to me. You aren’t getting muscles so that you can lift big things up, or so that you can be stronger. You’re getting muscles so that some shot addled airhead will oggle at your biceps strapped in by your tight fitting metrosexual t-shirt.
I believe that working out should be something you do first and foremost for yourself. Because you can push yourself, apply yourself, discover deeper depths of capability and achievement you never thought possible. You can reach beyond pain and into ecstasy. You can work yourself into a trance, letting all of the day’s woes and stress drop away. It’s like you’re conquering something each and every time, building, strengthening, stretching, going further, faster, higher. It teaches you to respect yourself and to listen to yourself. It teaches you patience. It teaches you humility, it teaches you integrity.
Which obviously, guys who are going to their 24-Hour Fitnesses so that they can wear tight fitting t-shirts to the club on friday night haven’t really gotten from their little sessions in front of the mirror listening to their IPods. They’ve missed the whole point of working out. Real women are impressed by real men who have muscles because they use them. Fake women wearing fake perfume with fake boobs are attracted to fake men wearing fake cologne who build muscles simply to attract fake women. What an interesting downward spiral that one is. Fakeness compounded by fakeness. Fakeness attracting more fakeness, producing yet more fakeness, with fake children, and fake grandchildren, and fake fake fake pets, and fake promises, and fake vacations, and fake lives. All because the whole premise of life—self-discovery—has been circumvented from the get-go.