Monday, November 24, 2014


Ten percent body fat percentage - this is my goal until April of 2015.

Recently, Fitness First came to our office to look for eligible members to join their gym. I had no plans of joining Fitness because their rates are expensive, but I did try their machine where it indicated your BMI, fat %, muscle mass %, basal metabolic rate, and metabolic age.

I was never so conscious of those numbers aside from the BMI and BMR. It was something I felt very trivial and insignificant, but lo and behold, when the lady handed me the paper and told me that I have to increase my muscle mass percentage, I was quite surprised.

What's more surprising is that I have never paid attention to body fat percentages ever. Ever. And when the results came out of 17% BF percentage, I immediately looked at the web to check what those numbers stood for.

Apparently 17% is an average number and one where a person's muscles are already on their way but not yet showing much. I calculated my years weightlifting and got frustrated just because I have been going to the gym for nearly 6 years and yet still no signs of an 8-pack even a 6-pack.

I got so frustrated that I did more research and checked the differences in body fat percentages.

And so here I am obsessing on slimming and leaning down more. I can't help it. It's in my nature to obsess over these things. Even if I do try to distract myself, and believe me I have done ways to distract myself, it's mostly ineffective.

So for now I am in a very strict regimen of once a week cheat days with a couple of days of one-meal-per-day of a cup of rice, aside from the fact that I have started transitioning to semi-vegan (cow's milk still in the diet but no eggs).

It's working. It's still an adjustment phase for me but so far so good. I'm hoping to lean down to 10% body fat percentage with an increase in muscle mass by April.

I can do this.

I need to do this.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

28 And Counting

"One year older and none the wiser." I posted on Facebook last week.

Ah yes, it just seems yesterday that I had been 27. Now I am 28.

The big 2-8. Gosh, I can't believe I'm that old already. When I started blogging and hanging out with other bloggers I was rather young at that time. Been blogging for six years and counting.

I feel so old. Ugh.

Being 28 puts me into another perspective of my life, primarily my life goals.

I remembered when K and I were having dinner. He was asking me why I'm studying again. I told him I want to know more and I really want to go into the academe. He told me outright how non-lucrative that is. I quite agree. But I feel teaching is my calling. And so here I am completing post-graduate studies.

Although at times I feel I should be doing something else, investing something else. People nowadays are into investments and variable insurances. I have yet to establish that having just began investing last February. It's better to have started now than not start at all, as people say.

So, 28. Hmmm...Really, I cannot define what I am feeling right now nor what I should be feeling right now. I seem okay with my age, yet feel I am not okay with where I am with my age.

I feel like starting a business yet think that I need to finish studies first then business after.

I feel like purchasing a real estate before inflation hits again, yet cannot get out of studies because I really want to go into the academe badly.

Intersections are part of living. Every step you take will take you to a branching road often with streets, roads, and avenues to take.

I'm 28 and I know I feel 28, although metabolically I'm 22.

Yet maturity wise? I feel 18 years old.

What's next for me then?

Well, perhaps by 29 I shall know.

Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Venti Soy, No Whip, Extra Foam, White Chocolate Mocha

There I was at the coffee shop again sipping my drink while doing paperworks for school.

I glance every now and then at the crowd around me. No one interesting.

My eyes returned to the cup of coffee I am indulging and then back to the laptop on the table. Waiting for me to tap it. Make love with it again. Paperworks.

I flicked through my laptop on the e-book's next page and wrote down on my 2012 planner. My mind still cannot comprehend much when I cannot write notes down. It's still something I am difficulty adjusting to.

I cupped the coffee again and took a quick sip. I opened my phone's data and tethered it to my laptop.

Opened Facebook, GMail, LinkedIn, GSMArena, PhoneArena, Pocket-lint, Pocketnow, Yugatech, Medscape, NCBI, and another Google tab (as if I don't have a lot going on).

The coffee grew colder and the time advanced. I became unaware. Engulfed in reviews. Engulfed in news feeds.

I arrived at the coffee shop early morning and yet it's nearly lunch and I haven't finished much.

"Oh well, that will have to wait." I muttered to myself as I become entranced in the latest gadget reviews.

I swiped my laptop's screen and go back to the e-book. Again, I hold my planner which serves as my notebook and write again.

A few minutes passed and my hand started to get sore again. Writing for long periods of time makes my hand go sore. I have not seen an orthopedic doctor nor a neurologist.

"Immunology, B-cells, T-cells, CD4 count, macrophages, neutrophils, basophils, eosinophils" - I write down everything but comprehend almost nothing. I write down notes but do not understand them completely.

The sun was setting, there was still much more to do, but I was not able to finish what my purpose was when I entered the coffee shop.

I felt bored and uneasy. I cupped my coffee which was nearly empty and glanced around at the people again. It's a noisy place and yet I still have the patience to stay there and do what I have to do.

I closed the e-book, closed the browser, turned the data and tether off of my phone, packed my bag, and decided to go home.

And I just spent 200 pesos on a Sunday.

Thursday, October 23, 2014

In Debt

"I saw M while I went to the US," K started to narrate. "He really changed. A lot. His shorts were skimpy, he had a tight-fitting shirt, and his car was very unlike him."

We laughed as we were having dinner at Greenbelt. He was with his friend Michelle too.

It has been months since I saw K let alone talk with him on a personal level.

"M was very accommodating," He went on. "He wouldn't even let me spend a dime."

I had a flashback on how K used to describe M. It was as if I had known M for some time now, but I haven't really met him nor what his personality was when they were together.

"He would pick me up and we would go places. I tell you G, he would accommodate me where I need to go."

"That's good to know K." I replied to his narration.

"There was one night when we checked in this hotel and I can still feel some awkwardness between us. We were together in one bed while two of his friends were on the other. It was really physically awkward."

"Didn't you even snuggle with each other?" I curiously asked.

"No, G. There was not really anything other than us sleeping on one bed." K told me.

"I see."

"But you know what G?" K turned and looked at me.


"I know M is forever indebted to me."

Flashbacks regurgitated. And I felt a pang of guilt.

I knew what he meant. I knew what he told.

I was M.

I was that guy who did foolishly to end a relationship. I was the guy who was committed who would sleep with others just because of libido, just because of the need to be desired, just because of the need of the flesh.

I was the M in the relationship. I always were.

And yet these guys I had been committed with, they were truly honest and faithful.

But I screwed up. I admit.

Michelle and I were all ears to K when out of the blue Michelle asked, "Are you indebted to someone, K?"

"No Michelle. I don't think so."

"I am and I don't think I ever will be able to repay them." I told myself while I finished the apple crumble I was dabbling with my fork.

"Necessity is to learn from the past."

Friday, October 10, 2014


That's it. I'm done. Finished.

I told myself yesterday while I was walking towards campus for class. For the past several weeks I had been trying too hard for people to notice me.

Why do I want to be noticed?

Honestly I just want the attention? I don't even know why I need it but it seemed like I just wanted to have attention.

I have been trying hard to increase my weightlifting as well as running just for people to notice me. No one did.

I am not even sure where this post is going, but one thing is for sure, I am over trying to vie for attention.

It had been a difficult time for me.

Perhaps I just needed a cute guy to notice me at school? At work? At the gym? At the LRT and MRT?

Who knows?

I remember when I used to go to clubs earlier, I won't leave the club without guys getting my number. Yes I am bragging right now but let me finish.

So there I was minding my own business inside the club and just having a great time. Guys would just come up to me and ask me for my number. I was never the one to initiate. Never the one to ask first. I was THAT guy.

And then recently I went to the club, it has not changed much, perhaps the people were different but the vibe and aura were still the same.

Yet the more I observed the more I saw how the landscape changed.

Or did it?

Or was it me that changed?

That the boy who used to get boys without even trying was not being noticed anymore.

I never felt so isolated in my life.

And with the rise of the sun, I left.

I am done trying too hard.

"So change is good for all the good reasons, and bad for all others."