Top 10 skills I have acquired and done best in my 24 years of existence

I turned 24 last April 1st and this is my birthday entry for my 24 years of existence …

… and still counting!

BEFORE TURNING 24, I have joined various organizations and tried numerous activities, including Taekwondo, publication writing, and weightlifting, and even theater acting and singing. In all these, though, I suppose I’ve never been the “best”—a word that I associate with being outstanding in every aspect. Hence, I’ve enumerated the skills I’ve done preeminently, those that I may have learned to master, or at least to get the hang of, from all the things I tried and organizations I joined… or even from experiences, painful and blissful, I encountered.

Number 10: Laugh in the whistle register

I rank this skill in number 10 because it’s now extinct. Back in my high school days—I was 14 then—my closest friends would always remember me for my ability to laugh in the whistle register, the high-pitched sound usually being associated with birds and dolphins and extraordinary singers like Mariah Carey and Minnie Riperton. I know I can’t sing, and I actually don’t know how I was able to reach that high register, which only remarkable artists can reach. Perhaps, just extreme laughter enables me to use my vocal cords peculiarly. When my laryngeal prominence, however, started developing, my voice began getting deeper, and that “whistle laugh” people used to hear from me just had to pack its bag and go to Bahamas or Bali or Palawan for a lifetime vacation.

Number 9: Execute a tower-high axe kick and hold my legs apart using the front-kick-side-kick-combination leg split

Being a Taekwondo practitioner from ages 11 to 17, and “legitimately” a Taekwondo student from ages 13 to 17, I have acquired this ability to split my legs apart, a stretching exercise I have always done prior to executing my trademark kick in our Taekwondo gym: the axe kick. A lot of my fellow taekwondo beginners and novices used to fear me for this kick; but a lot of my instructors and other experts in the art see me as a perfect target for a turning-side kick counterattack. Though graceful-looking, this flamboyant kick leaves any one vulnerable for other faster kicking styles in the Taekwondo kicking arsenal.

To date, I can still execute this kick and even split my legs apart. But unlike before, my execution isn’t as graceful and effortless as it used to be. And this time, I feel it already hurts somewhere in the middle. (To maintain this flexibility though, I recently decided to perform some basic Taekwondo stretching exercises at least once a week.)

Number 8: Lift weights despite having muscle injuries

You know that feeling when your wrist or shoulder really hurts? Then you take the risk of still lifting those dumbbells to complete your workout routine for the day despite possibly worsening your pain? I take that risk.

After leaving my Taekwondo gym at 17, I shifted to weightlifting. Despite being timid of working out with people whose bodies are like those of gods, something just pushed me through to obliterate that feeling. That something could be my own insecurity: my being very skinny as though I were an elementary boy. When I turned 18—after leaving my first gym because I have seen no significant improvements in my body—I resorted to steroid ingestion and this made me gain weight, not desirable because I looked so bloated. I started lifting weights again when I turned 19 in a different gym, and another gym again that was nearer to my home, the gym where I used to train Taekwondo. That was the start of my being a masochist, leading to my bodybuilding preoccupation; I have seen significant improvements since then. I was perceived with the image I have been longing for myself, treated as I deserved. From then on, I started working out six times a week, even on days I’ve had injuries, though that could be unhealthy. Just like the timidity I have learned to obliterate the first time I stepped into the gym, the pain of the injury is all in the mind. I call that “discipline,” but don’t ask me how I arrived with this illicit conclusion.

Number 7: Be either a good or bad influence to people’s physical insecurities

Some of my officemates have become health-conscious, exercising every morning to become fitter and eating healthy foods to make them slimmer—they blame me. Some of my flat-mates have become body-conscious, doing cardio and abdominal exercises every morning to flatten their tummy—they thank me.

Number 6: Write according to the technicalities of writing, as indicated in “different style guides”

I am a technical writer; it’s my profession. That says it all. The problem though is I tend to mix different style guides sometimes. I’ve read almost nine or ten different style guides since I was in college. That explains it all.

Speaking of my profession, my officemate and friend Marge said that I know how to follow the technicalities of writing. She said that is my strength, and I am still currently convincing myself to believe her statement.

Number 5: Write in a “spontaneously disorganized” style                                                                     

I used to be the writer who believes that he can change the society by writing about antivirus software or an oven toaster his mother disposed in their backyard. I used to be the writer who writes whatever that pops into his mind, striking from anywhere with any random subject. I used to be the writer who finds connection from one topic to another by utilizing—or even abusing—false analogies that readers find humoristic but secretly offensive. I used to be the writer who dislikes articles that are well written and rather prefers articles that are “spontaneously disorganized.” That’s my legacy—at least during my days in the university publication, in which I happened to have an opinion column concurrent with my other columns in two local newspapers in our province.

I put this skill in number 5, better than the preceding item, because I suppose it’s the writing skill that’s innate in me. It’s where my writing path started.

Number 4: Work out while wearing a tight-fitting girdle as though I’m tightly corseted

Lifting from 45 to 120 lbs of steel weights back then, I needed to support my back to prevent injuries in my spinal cord and backbone; so I bought this rock-hard girdle to support my back. The girdle was about 20 cm wide, wrapped around my waist during workout. I enjoyed wearing it tight like olden-day corsets—that the initial purpose of supporting my back led to the side effect of reshaping my waist, from the last five pairs of my lower ribs down to my pelvises. Having my waist narrowed, I decided to make this a habit until now to maintain the shape of my waist, as I have done for two years back then.

Number 3: Block bad memories in my mind

March 2009, I suffered a severe emotional breakdown that lasted until around November or December 2010. Late December 2010 until around March 2011, I tried pretending to be happy, doing stuff that I used to do before, those that satisfy me, such as getting back in shape. (My emotional breakdown caused me harsh weight loss and decrease in muscle mass, but I promised myself to be back in shape, not to mention multiple criticisms I received, saying that I’m into drug abuse, from people who used to know me by my college-days body figure. Fortunately, I’m back in shape now.)

I kept on thinking about the great things life has to offer, reminiscing good memories that I can always experience all over again with friends who never left, people who were always there. Just like a computer, I blocked those bad memories that caused me wakeful nights, those memories that filled my eyes with tears. And I became very good at it. Partly, thanks to my unusual laughing manners.

Number 2: Laugh aloud using different unusual laughing manners for different purposes

As I mentioned in the preceding item, I laugh aloud to block bad memories. I also laugh aloud for other purposes such as: (a) to conceal pain and pretend that I’m happy; (b) to fill a room with people who could be trying to bring me down with my aura; (c) and, of course, just to express my happiness whenever I’m with people who make me laugh. The item in A is what I always used to do before, until sometime in June 2011 I’ve realized that the pretense I’ve lived with has already become my reality. The item in B I’ve done just once or thrice, and the item in C is often the reason why I laugh these days.

Just like my purposes for laughing, my laughing styles also vary. Considering that my whistle laugh is now a history, I typically produce a throaty, squeaky sound using my modal register nowadays. Sometimes, I use the falsetto register too to produce high-pitched laughs, especially when I haven’t had enough sleep, during which my modal register tends to be weak and whispery that it almost sounds like the vocal fry register. But my favorite style is when I start my laugh in a high falsetto register and then shift to my guttural voice, resulting in a full-throated pinnacle. During very funny instances though, I also can manage to produce a laughing sound through my diaphragm, which my officemates reckon as the “evil laugh.” This one rarely happens. Thus far, the only people I’ve known in person whom I believe could surpass my ability to laugh aloud are Patti and, of course, our big boss.

Number 1: Hold my stomach in, 24/7

Now this one is difficult to explain, but I’ll try... I’m aware that I don’t have the broadest and most masculine-looking shoulders, sleeve-splitting biceps, and massive chest. Indeed, my biceps and chest are the parts of my body that need improvement. My triceps and traps, meanwhile, could be my assets with enough exercise, but still, they aren’t that remarkable. The feature that sets me apart from the rest—the feature that has received most praises from fitness instructors, swimsuit vendors and stylists, doctors, and nurses, among others—is my ever-flat tummy. Thanks to my ability to fully control my abdominal muscles, my tummy doesn’t get big no matter how much and what I eat, and regardless if I am full or not.

Growing in an environment with my brother who was influenced by my bikini-tournament-enthusiast cousin, I have been told when I was 8 years old that my tummy was big only because it was slightly protruded—that was considered a shame. From then on, I started holding my stomach in, as long as I can until I managed to hold it in as long as I am conscious. I just did it, though I really didn’t know the possible adverse effects of what I was doing. As I grew older, I just haven’t noticed that my tummy has become naturally flat, unless I’m unaware that I’m still holding my breath just to make it appear smaller, flatter. But hey! I can breathe properly, and it neither hurts nor suffocates me.

By the time I reached 18 or 19, I have mastered the art of controlling my abdominal muscles that I have used them in every exercise I’ve been doing. In fact, I use these muscles to get extra strength for some extra lifts intended to work on my triceps. I’ve learned to use them in a way different from how most people use theirs. The only thing that could affect my ability to do this is “constipation.”

These days, I no longer hold my stomach in, as far as my consciousness is concerned, but many people still suppose that I do. I really don’t know, I can’t elaborate, but this is how my tummy works. Perhaps, my girdle training and abdominal exercises have also affected its appearance. The doctor, conversely, said, “It’s genetics.”