I’m a body builder for real! You know how much work it took to build this body? Over eating is a hard job. It’s painful, it takes time and concentration. Sometimes you need to take deep breaths (that are really shallow as shit because you know it hurts), loosen your belt, unbutton that top button, burp if you’re lucky…just to take that one last bite.
Oh. And don’t let this body fool you. I got muscle….it’s just under a few thick, insulated, sometimes jello-y layers of fat. But man are those muscles beautifully defined and built! You know how I know, I can lay down, push through the fat, rub my fingers over them and feel the ripples. Like imagine I had a piece of paper and I was trying to find out what was written on the previous sheet. So you take the pencil and start shading it in lightly to uncover the previous message. It’s just like that, but I got to rub just a way bit, like a whole lot harder.
And I’m a dangerous body builder. I got this fat hanging from my arm. I can slap someone silly with it. I threaten my trainer with it all of the time. Told him, I was going to slap him with it when he tries to push me too hard. No, see you have to know the people you’re around. I love my trainer… he’s a man of God, he’s a great supporter, listener, motivator and role model. While in the gym he has his bible and he’ll read it while your working out, but if you pause….and he’s always looking when you first stop. He’ll ask you what you’re doing. The old excuses of trying to breathe or not die don’t work. Throwing up is just a quick reprieve, but you know damn well, it really ain’t because it’s a stomach exercise. So, with my skill, observation and learning people….you go down on one knee and you say your praying for strength to help you complete the workout. How can you argue with that? (Maybe that’s the type of shit that I do where my son keeps calling me manipulative). So, in the end, Lejuan is a well rounded black man. Well -well rounded he is. One day he was half asleep as I was working out. I decided to run and jump with my foot pretending to come down on his stomach. Maybe my legs were weak that day…or heavy from the weight of my muscles, but my foot came down on his stomach. His eyes popped open. I couldn’t stop laughing, but I felt bad because it wasn’t my intent. I rubbed his stomach where I had just landed my foot and apologized. Talk about paper and pencil…didn’t need to excavate to feel those muscles. That was a washboard without having to push through the whole weeks of clothes at one time!
Authentically Liat 