Oh those shining, perfect washboard abs on television!…How they inspire us to hit the gym like no man has ever done before. Those evanescent resolutions which fade away with astonishing speed leaving no trace behind,like they never ever existed. The Indian male distinguishes himself in the gym with his characteristic pot belly, stick thin chicken legs and the I-am-a-lost-lamb look ambling about sheepishly. The dumbells seem to be mocking him with a lift me if you can smirk while he covertly eyes the Greek God-ish physiques of Caucasians and Europids around him. He curses his genetics, vows to fight nature and gradually succumbs to its vagaries in a week’s time. The Indian female is a different story altogether. Find her in a messy bun, endlessly long, ragged t-shirt to camouflage her glutes and quadriceps from piercing stares ( trust me, those killer legs invite no attention!) and an ultra bored look. Lifting weights is akin to sacrilege for she is convinced that it will turn her into a muscular wonder, giving the Schwarzneggers a run for their money. No amount of scientific research and facts can convince her otherwise. So you will find her labouring away at the cross trainer or the treadmill for a whole 20 big minutes! The gait is completely off, the enthusiasm is that of a nine year old being asked to study for an exam instead of playing with his friends and its as if she is doing the machine a favor by putting it to some good use.
It makes me wonder whether we are socially predisposed to stay away from physical activities because we would rather bond over food in large groups or are we just plain lazy?
Both. Food and laziness. For me at least.