Metamorphosis (1/3)

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The Story

When I was in high school, I was terrified of taking my shirt off. I had a problem:

I was skinny-fat.

Slight belly rolling over the top of my trousers like a muffin top, and puny man-boobs sticking out my chest like some weird sex-change experiment gone wrong. I constantly walked around slightly hunched, with my slight belly sucked in so hard like a black hole was present in my guts.

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…and not forgetting the overly baggy clothes that I tend to hide myself in.

I didn’t want to accept it, so I ran. I documented my earlier fat loss experiences during my adolescent years in the Yellow M&M’s and Trainers series (do check it out sometime), and kept the cardio going into my pre-university days.

There, I picked up weight training, and faced with the prospect, or at least the chance to become the Terminator, I eagerly signed up my first gym membership. I was never consistent, but I knew I was making progress. The first year went well, I lost my man-boobs and put on some muscle. My bench-press went from nothing to 40 kilos, and back then I thought that was the biggest achievement ever! I’d swag around at home or at uni, puffing my chest out like I was a DC comic book hero.

Freshman year in uni. Now faced with the freedom that every university student had, obviously I had to party and do all the crazy things that all that freedom entailed. Training was still a second priority, and I squeezed in a workout here and there whenever I could. Obviously, I didn’t get much stronger than I did, but at least I wasn’t obese. Sure, I had a bit of belly fat, but as long as I kept my shirt on, I was safe. Kind of.

Now the fourth year rolls around and life gives me a lemon. I broke up with my girlfriend of 7 months and lost my accommodation in the process (long story for another time). I never admitted that I was hurting, and so I binged on alcohol, parties, hook-ups, took more part-time jobs, played more games all in an attempt to numb the pain. Naturally, working out became a non-priority for me. And so the cycle continued until I finished university, and went to Fiji to volunteer (Snippets of Fiji series).

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Ahsena (left) and Torika (right): so proud to call them my trouble-making students!

When I returned from paradise, I was 80 kilos, had a slight belly, but I’d gotten good at concealing the fat-ness. Having relocated back to Malaysia, faced with the challenge of a job hunt combined with even more free time, I WAS UTTERLY LOST. There were no video games, parties that I could go to, and alcohol was goddamn expensive.

I had to confront the fact that I had let my 16 year-old self down.

As I stepped into the same gym where my journey began, I felt slightly ashamed of myself. I could not even hold myself accountable to the things that I wanted. If I were to repeat this for the rest of my life, I would never accomplish my own goals ever, let alone anything. And in that moment, I vowed to do whatever it took to become fit.

October rolled around. I had nothing to lose. I crafted a ridiculously extreme fitness plan for myself: two training sessions in a single day with cardio, all in a 18-6 intermittent fast split on extremely low carbohydrates. I’d finish one workout in a fasted state, then wait till I could break fast, then go to the gym again shortly after. I kept that up for two months, and just as my will to go on was faltering, my stomach started flattening.

I changed things up a little bit, but I knew that I was near a breaking point.

The first two pecs came into existence around December.

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Post-midnight-workout selfie at my father’s homtown in Kulim, Kedah.

The second two pecs manifested around March.

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April, after work in Johor. 

The last two pecs showed up last week.

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Note: ‘Budak’ in Malay translates to lad/boy. Shout out to Sondico for sponsoring the clothes, and to Ammar Tahir @ Petronas for hooking me up with the photoshoot!!

Today, I cheekily make every excuse to take my shirt off. I no longer walk around like a fat-hunchback trying to hide himself. I know that I’m a goddamn sexy beast, and if I could, I would go back into my past and tell that skinny fat boi that things would work out eventually.

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That all he had to do was to put in the hard work, and everything would be alright.

 

 

2 Comments Add yours

  1. Anonymous says:

    Dayumm son! Looking real good!

    Like

    1. Nigel Ng says:

      Thank you man!! I’m looking to maintain this shape wile bringing you food content xD

      Like

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