Buffy Buffington gets Buffer

I’ve been shaping my physique for 3 years, 7 months.  Not shorter, not longer.  That’s it.  It’s been a rollercoaster of ups and downs, highs and loooooooowwwwws, elation and frustration.  Just now, I am beginning to realize the true ramifications of the lifestyle I, as a committed, dedicated, perhaps addicted (?) iron-slingin’ chick, have chosen.  The least of which is VERY early mornings at the gym, the most of which is admiration and respect from most of the people I encounter every day of my life. 

I’ve built some respectable muscle.  I’m just now working on the leaning out and, during this process, I’m realizing what a [vicious?] cycle I’ve created for myself.  As I become leaner, I realize that I have NOWHERE near the amount of muscle I desire!  WTF?  Now, I’ll want/need to do a "bulk" at some point?  Are you effin’ kidding me?  That $hit scares the crap outta me…Oh, well, again, it’s a choice, and I’ve chosen it and I have a love-hate relationship with this "choice".  Is it a "choice" at this point?  Me thinks not so much.

The true "gist" of this rambling blog you ask?  GET TO THE EFFIN’ POINT, WOMAN! you are screaming…

The past month has been an eye-opener for me.  It’s not that I’m "huge", that I look like the brick ****house I desire to be, but I think this "leaning out" has lended itself to making my muscles [appear] larger to the average Joe/Joanna.  I am not imagining the stares, the whispers, and the spoken and/or muttered comments.  A man at my office has asked me about my workouts and has assured me (after my pointed question, "Are my biceps too big?") that I look "FANTASTIC", "awesome", "great"; yet as I walk past him in the hallways, he just shakes his head and smiles…almost looking, dare I say, intimidated by me?  Say it isn’t so!!!!  No one offers to lift the heavy boxes for me anymore people!  Not that I would allow them to anyway, but you know what I’m sayin’.  I may look strong, I very well may BE strong, but that doesn’t mean that a lil chivalry along the way would offend me!  Just the offer.  I would say "No thanks, I got it", but that’s not the point.

One day, about 3 weeks ago, I was at the grocery store, milling around the produce in yet another one of my countless sleeveless shirts, when I noticed that two 20-something young men seemed to be following me.  I was becoming a little wary of their presence and tried to distance myself from them, but it seemed as though we were on the same shopping schedule.  Every lane I went down, they were either behind me, or in front of me, coming the opposite direction.  I felt their stares, and heard their whispers.  But it wasn’t those things that bothered me.  It was when one of them did that coughing thing where you cough and say something at the same time, but have every intention of the person you’re aiming the comment towards hearing you AND understanding your comment?  You know what I mean, right?  I think the most well-known phrase is a cough while saying "Bull$hit"…AHA!  NOW you definitely know what I mean! Well, the word this young man spoke embarrassed me to no end, and I think it is something that I will ALWAYS remember, either until the day I decide this lifestyle isn’t for me, that looking buff is not attractive, or until the day I die, whichever comes first.  He coughed, yet also clearly said "MUSCLES!" at the same time, all the while looking at me under hooded eyes and a slightly bowed head.  I just kept going, probably smirking a little along the way, all the while thinking, "Are my muscles too big?, Should I wear shirts with sleeves even when it’s 90 degrees outside?, Should I just stick with cardio from now on?…"

This past weekend, at a Detroit Tigers baseball game at Comerica Park, I found that I have become the sort of person I never really liked.  The one who doesn’t smile or have eye contact with strangers, because I could FEEL the stares from other women.  I did not see ONE, NOT ONE, fit-looking chick that night.  I was an anomaly, an oddball, a "freak" to some, I’m sure…but inside I was beaming with pride, because I KNOW that 90% of those stares are bred by insecurity and envy.  If they want it, they’re gonna have to do the same Godforsaken hard ass work that I’ve done!

I asked one of my best girlfriends to assess my arms the next time we got together and give me her brutally honest opinion.  She did.  She said "Your arms are NOT too big.  They look good….My goal is to have arms like yours…I want people to look at me and know that I workout, even when at rest.  Even when you are sitting and talking, you can see that you workout.  That’s MY goal!" 

I get the "OMG! Do you workout?" from the teeny-bopper, skinny-fat chicks at the mall, the "Nice guns!" from the random [male] stranger, the "You must workout ALLLLL the time" comments from everyone, the looks of disbelief when I respond, "No, I don’t"…

I guess I’m at a crossroads in this life I have chosen.  Do I take pride in the gains I have made, not only in muscle, but in confidence, energy and self-esteem?  Or do I let others dictate how much muscle is TOO much?  Since the comments and stares are only sure to escalate from this point forward, and since I’ve only increased my intensity at the gym, and reaffirmed my commitment to eating clean, I suppose my decision has been made.  I’VE made the decision.  I will continue to progress, to move forward, to enjoy the frustrations and rewards of this difficult lifestyle we have chosen.  Stare, whisper, mutter, giggle, laugh, admire, compliment, criticize - whatever makes YOU feel better about your pathetic physique, but BACK OFF, cuz Buffy Buffington is just gonna get buffer.