Teetering

The mirror didn't hold anything back. Even when it was steamed over, my bulbous shadow watched in silent judgment.

I tried to avoid his eyes but I took up enough of the mirror that I couldn't hide my pear shaped vulnerability. The admittedly minor amount of cardio obviously wasn't enough but I wasn't able to do more. At this point my body fought itself when I put too much stress on it. The bags of fat that had enveloped muscles and ligaments were like counterweights, so that every step I took carried with it a swinging pendulum of overreaction which pulled hard enough to bruise the very muscles I was trying to improve. If I hurt myself too much I wouldn't be able to work out at all.

There was no sign of definition in my arms or chest. Sure I was stronger but so what? I didn't look it. I could bench two hundred and twenty pounds but all of a sudden it didn't seem worth it any more. I'd been working out five days a week since June and here it was August and there was no visible improvements. Was it worth it?