The Gym Thing: "cutting? ugh, cutting!"

“You know I’m so glad bulking season is over, I finally get to start cutting!” Said no gym goer ever!

I don’t do cutting, mostly because it’s one of the least enjoyable things at can be done in relation to the gym. Sure, there is the struggle with lifting weights and the soreness and stiffness that come the day after and even the long trudging stretches of time in the cardio section, but with all of these I feel good after with a great sense of achievement and a flood of enorphins. When it comes to cutting I just feel crap, and hungry, and tired and just plain miserable. Beyond this however, my mental health starts to deteriorate.

Spending a stretch of time starving myself to the point where my body has to dig into its fat reserves are never fun. I’m just constantly tired and hungry, so very hungry. My sex drive goes, my ability to concentrate goes but beyond that my mental health suffers. It starts with me feeling ratty and short tempered. I begin to see my body in a negative light and start measuring my waist all the time. I start to feel horrible about myself and hate how my body is. This is the biggest thing that makes cutting repellent to me.

Since starting back at the gym four years ago my relationship with my body has completely changed. I feel I relate to my body in a much more positive way, I have gained a greater understanding of how it works and I don’t feel powerless against it. That may seem a weird thing to say, that I felt subjugated by my body, but I did. It seemed like my weight and body shape were things I was trapped by. My skinny arms were something forced on me and I couldn’t change that. If I became fatter or thinner, it was because of reasons I didn’t understand and so felt dragged along by my body for the ride. Now I know I can affect change on my body. I know how my activities and eating patterns affect it. If my body starts to go in a direction I don’t want, I can just change my behaviour and my body will respond. This feeling of control over my own self has improved my body image to no end. I now like my body, not for what it has changed into, but because it isn’t something that makes me feel bad about. Its part of me, not something forced onto me. Sure there are goals I have set to achieve in terms of body shape but I’m happy with where I’m starting from.

This all seems to go out the window when cutting.

The wearing down of my mental health probably has a lot to do with this. Being miserable and tired for so long won’t do anyone any good, but then further combined with fighting against an appetite that I often loose against and lack of easy progress means that old feeling of my body being an object I am forced to deal with, rather part of me, rears its ugly head.

Being a cub helps a lot with it, as I don’t feel any social pressure to strive for the classic gay mans abs when I can have a rubable belly instead (well most of the time, going to Hampstead heath pond and sitting in a large group of topless gay men all with abs in speedos) so if I feel my bellies getting beyond my comfort zone I just start clean bulking and do a bit more cardio, which is normally enough to bring things back to where I want them.

Life Is Good

Well dear reader, I suppose I should really get round to posting another erratic update on my life. Things have been moving steadily along in my life and seem to be getting better and better. With the expenses of moving in and a period of unemployment for me, our funds became very tight. This state of affairs in now easing thanks to my new job.

I'm employed again!

I now have work again, and so far its been a job I really enjoy. In fact its a job I have had on my life's bucket list. I now work in a fetish clothing store. That's right, I get to work with rubber and leather all day with a great group of people, many of whom I am already friends with. It's one of these new-fangaled zero hour contract deals, but I don't mind as its such a nice team to work with. I really am surprised just how different it is from working in a large corporate company. Everyone knows each other and everyone pitches in to help. You don't get clueless managers going round with paperwork badgering you to work to an unrealistic standard set by head office. It's all people who work alongside you and know what needs to be done. The shop itself is in a very nice aria with a green across the road that's wonderful to sit and have my breakfast and lunches in. Yesterday as it was the boyfriends birthday, on my lunch hour we nipped round the corner to a lovely little Cuban restaurant which served awesome food for actuality decent prices. I'm even loving the fact that I now have a proper commute into work, although I'm sure that novelty will wear off soon. All this has now given me the realization that....

I'm now a Londoner

When the hell did that happen? I now live in London. Not student halls living, but proper contract rent living. I commute on the tube to work, the bf and i have an overpriced cramped house-share to live in. I go drink over priced drinks after work so I don't have to deal with the rush hour on the transport system. We are looking in the mid-term to moving to somewhere near Vauxhall if we are lucky or somewhere like Wimbledon if we are not so lucky. I have taken to city living like a duck to water, and find it suits me down to the ground, the best part is how social I can be with everyone now. Every weekend a fun time out with friends is only 15 minuets away, now if only I could plan my days out better so i could always make it to...

The Gym.

As my membership to the student gym ended with the the university semester, I thought it would be a good time to explore further afield. I chose my local branch of the 'The Gym'. You may have come across them, they are the extremely cheap gym chain that works on the Ryan air model. The monthly payment fee is minimal, but they charge whenever they can. I was shocked to find even the lockers were not coin operated models that are the standard in most gyms or swimming pools. No, you had to bring your own padlock, or purchase a 'The Gym' branded one from a nearby vending machine. Luckily next-door is one of those 99pence shops, the chain that have filled the corpses left by the demise of Woolworth, that sold a sturdier padlock for only a pound. If you are smart and prepare ahead of time to get the extras you will need cheaper elsewhere 'The Gyms' can be great value Now they gym itself isn't bad, however I find most of the gym is dedicated to cardio machines. Apart from dumbbells, the weights section is under supplied and over populated. I've given up on hoping to get the Olympic bar with so many other people prowling around waiting for it to become free. Also, as often as I griped about the disorderly nature of the patrons of my last gym, this gym is worse. I just don't get why it is so hard for people to put weights back in the correct order.

The eye candy here however is a counterweight to my frustration. I seem to have struck it lucky with a plethora of cute cubby boys getting all sweaty as they work hard.

My body is developing nicely, if slowly. Although that is my own lax attitude to the gym. The kind of gains I really would like to make can only be quickly achieved by not letting life get in the way and planing everything around gym visits and a strict eating schedule. The latter I have been improving upon with a much better diet, but meals as a social ritual for bonding and pleasure are too important to me to give up to a regime structured around only fueling the body.

My attitude about my body had been flailing wildly over the spectrum, at times I am fine with my body and like what I see, at others I feel like I have too much of a muffin top and belly and wish to downsize, and others I feel good about my belly but wish my arms and pectorals were better. It is my belief that everyone feels like this from time to time and we live in a day and age where people cannot have a constantly positive body image. I know many people that really hate their bodies all the time and I'm glad i can look at mine, when in a good state of mind, and appreciate what i see in the mirror for its good points. Over all I have become quite secure in my physical identity, lately however I have been thinking about the implications of my inability to find a clear sociological/mental identity.

Existential identity pondering

This deserves its own blog post to fully explain the thoughts and uncertainties I have on this subject, and I will produce one in time. The short explanation is that with few real troubles in my life now my brain has seen fit to find lesser troubles to bother me with. I have found myself mulling over my lack concerted identity that I could identify myself with. Many others in my social circle have this privilege; they are puppy boys, furies, muscle boys, cubs, bears, rubbermen, leathermen, slaves and owned boys. None of the commonly used identifers comfortably fit me. As I have explored these avenues I have found none are for me and I struggle to explain to people who I am and what I enjoy. This may sound silly, but in the kinky world having a pre-made role to use as a shorthand for what you want and will do is a common and useful tool that also helps foster a sense of belonging to a community. As I stated before, this will be its own post and will explain it fully then. Until then I will simply say that my life at the moment is going well and i hope it lasts for a good long while.

sexlog 15.1.12

In which our hero learns to shift his weight, a flying kick is administered to the balls and the best angle on a man is appreciated.

“you know, I think this has to be my favourite angle to view a man.” these are the thoughts that run through my head as a cock is slid down into my throat. I say slid in because I am in a very passive position. My hands are tied behind my back and tauntly roped to my feet, leaving me quite immobile . My play partner is on top pressing his lovely thick cock down my throat, meaning I am looking up from between his thighs, passed the balls that are pressing down on my nostrils to the lovely mounds of his buttocks. The musk of the balls, feel of his cock filling my mouth and the sight of his ass is a very potent mix indeed.

The only sight that matches it greets me later when his weight bears down on top of me as I am forced to rim him and I see the terrain of his back stretching out above me. The mountains of his shoulder blades in the distance, parted by the valley of his spine leading to the hills of his ass right in-front of my eyes.

My play partner is M. who I mentioned in my posting on the new years day Recon event. After much twitter flirting it was felt that a meet-up would be in order, so I shlocked my ass into London and over to his place. Well things very quickly heated up once I was through the door I soon found myself on the bed being sucked and kissed while my hands were roped behind my back. Once I was hog-tied it was a fun while of the aforementioned forced sucking and rimming till my tongue ached. Something that I particularly like is the fact that I was expected to still move and shift my own weight while tied up. Oh don’t get me wrong, a man dragging me round the room and manhandling me into position is hot for me but having to wiggle and struggle really highlighted how vulnerable I was. It also made me feel like I was having to work to get to suck my tops cock.

After a while of this there was a quick rearrange of my limbs so my arms were tied to the corners of the bed my exposed balls were weighted down, by way of a ball stretcher, to a spare trainer left on the floor. Then a but-plug was produced and slowly drove into me. With my ass filled and nuts constantly tugged I found it a but harder to concentrate on the tick cock that was once again being shoved into my mouth, but I didn’t have to worry about that for too long. Once I was loose and relaxed enough it came time to be untied for something a bit more intimate. Now M. has a lovely thick bodied cock that felt great filling my mouth but being a bit of a novice fuckee I found it a little hard to take at first. It was on the second attempt, once we had re-arranged into a spooning position, that he was able to push into me and I was able to feel him stretch and fill me without too much pain. We build up the rhythm slowly, with him taking small gentle movements until I started to loosen up more. The small rocking grew into full grown thrusts soon enough as he was pinning my leg back to get deeper into me as I pushed into him. It was a long while we kept this up until I felt the need to cum. We shifted so I was on my back with my ass in the air and he thrust down on top of me. As he drove deep into me I began to wildly jerk my cock to climax where I covered myself in thick viscose strands.

The glow of the sexual endorphin high lasted a long time, with a nice, long, sticky, cuddling session with occasional snogging. When it came time to finally move about again, I first had to take of the ball stretcher. M started by tugging at the shoelace that launched the shoe right into my balls.

I'm *assured* this flying kick was not intentional CBT but an accident. Lol.

Christmas is done with. for good.

Its over, finally over. for three long months now i have been enduring the consumerist bacchanal that is known to the world a Christmas. i say three months because i work in retail, meaning the Christmas decorations and promotions have been going since before we even took down the Halloween decorations. This section of the year is never pleasant. It is full of people becoming increasingly stressed from the societal demand on them to do ever increasing present shopping for more expensive gifts and the increased workload at there jobs for this time of year. From this stress they become unpleasant, taking it out on each other and the staff in shops.
This is not the season of good will. This is the season of stress, desperation and over consumption and this year i have had enough.
This has been my last Christmas.
Next year i will not be doing Christmas, next year i will be truly celebrating what i feel should be held in ones heart this time of year. Despite not classing myself as neopagan i have been, in the recent years of my life, celebrating and marking midwinter solstice. I do so by going in turn and visiting all my friends, giving them something homemade in turn. Marking the deepest and darkest time of year by seeing the ones i love has given me great fulfillment, much more than traipsing round shops to buy things. And so i have decided to give up the hollow event Christmas has become and I'm going to go for its primal cousin midwinter, marking the worlds journey from the darkest point to the lightest.
no shopping required.

picture by mordachai71 on deviantart