Lately I have been preoccupied with the development of my muscles as a result of routine swimming. I started swimming a year ago after a lifetime spent in body neglect and savored idleness. The Canadian cold and the long days spent indoors motivated me to start; I felt my body becoming as stiff as a stone.
I admit that bodybuilding was far from my mind at the time. A few months later I noticed that my arm’s muscles were developing. The mere sight of them was a total surprise.
I started inspecting my muscles frequently, keeping track of their growth. Slowly and gradually their development became the target of my physical exercise. All of the sudden I could understand those body builders, that I used to consider as mere narcissuses. There’s something addictive about the possibility of sculpting your own body.
I wonder if my nearing birthday has anything to do with it. This birthday is a dreaded one, in which decimal digits are being replaced. Keeping one’s body young and vital seems to have turned into a goal of its own; an attempt of controlling time’s passage.