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Do you think Gyms would work better if they were male only or female only? Can you explain which will be your preference and why?

Ha, ha, ha, ha

Okay, my first big gym experience in Kolkata.

It was integrated gym.

It was owned by the local municipality.

It was one of those multigym.

Before that I used to do only with barbells and dumbells in a small gym in my locality which barely accomodate people.

Now in this gym plenty of girls used to work out with us.

I am not going to lie, guys used to ogle at them but it was never crossing any limit of modesty as a result number of girls increased with time.

We had no problem with that

Contrary to popular opinion, I have seen guys actually interested in building their bodies than constantly obsessing over girls.

They actually was busy in their workout

What we (guys) had a issue that they used to talk a lot rather than working out

But thankfully guys were clever enough not bother to lecture them about anything

We used to quietly have an word with the guy that was in charge of that gym and let him handle the situation

I have never seen any ugly situation like trying to hit on girls and situation keep getting worse from there

I did see them talking after the workout when some guys were going together with some girls but other than that it was all pretty intense workout

I honestly never had any problems with girls in gym.

At first I did give a lecture to some girl that what is the correct way to do certain workout and stuff but then quickly realised let them do their stuff let me do mine

Honestly I personally never had any issues

Being an Indian the only problem I had that even though it was large gym but it was with too many people as a result it was hard doing workout at certain pace as finding the bench empty was quite a challenge

After some time I got pissed off decided to buy my own home gym(thankfully I could afford it then) and worked out with peace

Now I am an owner of few gyms and it has become a very good side business

What I tend to notice that girls normally when first join a gym they demand a separate times for their workout with women only

But as the time goes they themselves break that and work with guys and after few months there are no girl only time exist

This is my experience

What do you think?

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3 Love

"IF I WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TICKET,

  I WOULDN'T HAVE CAUGHT THE TRAIN" :)


*STRANGE EXPERIENCE*
it is well said that life is full of unexpected things. In an motivational  video by Ben Lionel Scott on you tube I've listened hundreds of times  that life gives us what we want. Also, the great writer, Mr. Paulo Coelho have said in his international bestseller fable named "THE ALCHEMIST"  that " when you want something, all the universe conspire in helping you to achieve it." 
I was in the middle on fable "The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari" by Robin Sharma, I was like I was up above the summit of the sky and the chasm of the ocean too. I was deeply feeling his words that filled me with strong enthusiasm and touch the core of my soul. NOW, I was more stronger than I was, more resilient too. I started laughing out loud without any reason. I did not need a reason to laugh. I was feeling the changes in me. Really, there was an inevitable, strong but natural, force attracting me towards it or may be I was attracting towards that.
 I don't know what was that but I'm writing this because this is the time, THE RIGHT NOW, I can write or let it slip. But I can't go away from this force and the feeling too. So I'm penning it down, now.
It was late that night about 1:30. I usually went off to sleep at 11. But I was still awoke and was talking to a girl. It is a natural tendency of boys fascinating towards girls. I need to catch the train in morning at 08:40 from Sarai Rohilla railway station for Mohindergarh, my hometown. But I was still enjoying talking to her. Finally she said I want to sleep and I let her sleep because I also wanted to sleep. I put an alarm of 7 and slept.
The alarm was going off and I woke up in agile. I got fresh, brushed the teeth, took the bag on shoulder, locked the room and finally got out of the flat. On the way, I took out my phone and found it was already 7:25. I had a fear of missing the train in my mind but my intuition was so strong that I knew that I wouldn't let the train went off without boarding me in. I reached the metro station at about 7:35 and got the metro anon. I changed the metro from Rajeev Chowk and from Kashmiri gate too. But it was misfortune that I got confused between Shastri Nagar and Shastri park metro station and the metro took me to the Shastri park instead of Shastri Nagar. I asked someone the way of railway station and he assured me that I got confuse between the names and I need to go back now. That splendid my mind with the fear of missing the train.But my intuition did not let rule that fear over me. And finally I reached Shastri Nagar metro station and deboard from metro station and checked the time that it was 8:32. The railway station was about 2 KM away from there and I did not find a single auto rickshaw there, not a single one. Then I decided to go with a rickshaw. I was thudding down my phone over my wrist on the way and finally I managed to reach the station at 8:38. I thanked God from my intuition.
I rushed in the ticket counter and found that there was a huge line on the counter and meanwhile the speaker at the station announced that "the train no. this this that from Delhi Sarai Rohilla to Bikaner is going to leave from platform no. 4."  What a shit? 
It was the time I have to decide whether I should should take the ticket or not. In my subconscious, there  was a thing, from the past experiences, that it's super fast train and nobody would come to check the tickets on a general coach. I've gone many times through the same route and the same train and I never found any ticket checker, not a single time. So i decided to not to take the ticket. This happened within a fraction of time.
I had no fear of anything and I was happy that my intuition was right and caught the train. Then I realized that I'm hearing a strong horn and found that the train started moving. The train was 4 platform away from me and I needed to go by the over bridge. I ran as fast as I can and finally got in the train. I was inhaling deeply and smiling too because finally I was in train  and luckily I got a seat too. Before my breathe got normal, the train's speed was on its peak.
On the way, I wanted to read the novel as I always carry something to read on a journey. But there was a group of two girls and a boy who was directing and disturbing too to concentrate me on the novel. I laughed on the silly things they were talking about the college life and functions. But then he said that, in society, men must dominate women and should take the decision for women. He also said that it is written in Vedas and Purana like Geeta and Mahabharata. I wanted to interrupt but i let it be. I don't wanted to get involved. I  just thought that, " did he ever read a single religion book? " And i started looking out of the window. After some time, the train was at Rewari station.
As I did not eat anything since morning, I decided to take sips of tea and I got one. After a few minutes the train started moving again. This time I was free to read my novel as the group was not there. It was about an hour away from my hometown, I was totally involved in the novel and then I heard a loud voice that changed my mind. YES, there were ticket checkers in the coach and they were arguing with a family about the tickets. Whatever they were doing with the family, my mid skip that thing and I thought, I did not have the ticket, what should I do?
As from the past experience of one of my friend that he told me once that he got stuck in same situation and he used washroom to escape from the ticket checkers. An uncle was sitting besides me and I asked him that I did not have any ticket. what should I do? He also suggested the same thing to go to washroom. I, then, decided to go to washroom. I thought to go on the same side where the ticket checkers were checking the tickets but then a thought came to my mind that there is a fine difference between a brave and moron and I went on the another side of the coach. I found the washroom too away from my seat and came back to my seat without going to the washroom. I did not know what was happening with me. I could stand there in washroom and get escaped.
I was not feeling strange although it was first time with me. I was like i already knew that I would face this situation. Mentally, I was strong and intuitively, I was stronger. I had no fear of chasing the ticket checkers. Still I was sure that the ticket checkers would not check me or I would not let them to check me. My intuition was inflexible. I also thought that if there's 1% chance of being caught, I would pay them the fine, simple ! I was smiling on myself and found this situation a pleasure. Then I stood up and started going towards the ticket checkers to the washroom. I counted them. they were 4. Two of them were arguing with the family and rest were checking the tickets. On the way I excused a ticket checker for letting me go and he let me go towards the washroom. I was in the washroom now and thinking what to do now? Then I decided to go and stood where the two ticket checkers were arguing with the family because there were 4-5 person standing and enjoying the whole drama. I came out and did not go near the drama. I stood near the coach gate and started enjoying the rapid air touching my face. I stood there for 20 minutes and finally the train stopped at Mohindergarh railway station. I went back to my seat and found that the ticket checkers had already gone. I collected my bag and novel. Then the uncle asked me in an exciting manner that what did happen? Did they catch you? You paid fine? I smiled and said that I am fine and nothing happened also I said:  " IF I WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TICKET,  I WOULDN'T HAVE CAUGHT THE TRAIN" :)

4 Love

"As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones. A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me. A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea. Enjoy. Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud *~*~* Part I *~*~* Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother. "Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips. Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?" Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you." "And what kinds of things might they be?" "You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?" "Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A." Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo." Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that? Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo. The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen. "You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child." "I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..." "I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen." "Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone." Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment. "It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special." "How so?" "You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo." Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis." "Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled. It was her very first bawoo. Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms. As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie. People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty. Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!" Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs. Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely. She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving. From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy. At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly. Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off. Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her. Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders. For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done. But they weren't done. Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly. "C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed." Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that. Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes. It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot. Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run. Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did. Bawoo. She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer. *~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~* Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin. They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense. Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes." "Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm." Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it. "Cat?" Richard finally guessed. Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say." Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'." Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again. Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast. The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy. "Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress. "Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head. "I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means." "Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed. Stupid "imu" puzzle. Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh." Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder. Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin. Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?" She had a point. Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point. Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach. By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee. Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats. Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip. Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half. Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit. He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee. "How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort. "Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them. This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly. "S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach." "That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now." They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company. Lizzie... and her fiancée. Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out. "I'm getting married." "Wah - huh?" His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married." "Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?" "Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip." "Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..." "You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach." "Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality." "C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge." It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?" "I haven't told her yet." "You called me before Mom?" "Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first." Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it. Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend. "C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?" He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice. Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first." But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast. Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better. They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late."

As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones.

A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me.

A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea.

Enjoy.

Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud

*~*~* Part I *~*~*

Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother.

"Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips.

Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?"

Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you."

"And what kinds of things might they be?"

"You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?"

"Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A."

Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo."

Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that?

Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo.

The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen.

"You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child."

"I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..."

"I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen."

"Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone."

Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment.

"It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special."

"How so?"

"You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo."

Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis."

"Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled.

It was her very first bawoo.

Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms.

As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie.

People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty.

Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!"

Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs.

Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely.

She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving.

From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy.

At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly.

Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off.

Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her.

Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders.

For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done.

But they weren't done.

Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly.

"C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed."

Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that.

Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes.

It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot.

Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run.

Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did.

Bawoo.

She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer.

*~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~*

Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin.

They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense.

Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes."

"Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm."

Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it.

"Cat?" Richard finally guessed.

Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say."

Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'."

Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again.

Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast.

The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy.

"Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress.

"Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head.

"I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means."

"Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed.

Stupid "imu" puzzle.

Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh."

Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder.

Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin.

Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?"

She had a point.

Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point.

Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach.

By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee.

Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats.

Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip.

Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half.

Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit.

He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort.

"Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them.

This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly.

"S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach."

"That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now."

They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company.

Lizzie... and her fiancée.

Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out.

"I'm getting married."

"Wah - huh?"

His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married."

"Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?"

"Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip."

"Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..."

"You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach."

"Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality."

"C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge."

It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"You called me before Mom?"

"Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first."

Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it.

Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend.

"C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?"

He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice.

Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first."

But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast.

Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better.

They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late.

 

13 Love
How can one become like Virat Kohli or big hitter of cricket ball like Chris Gayle?


Very simple practice, practice and practice in nets, your aim would be to become very good timer of cricket ball. This is the first lesson in cricket, if you want to be a big hitter.

However, if you want to be a hard hitter like Chris Gayle then it's a completely different ball game all together. Just follow how Virat Kohli did it from someone who was a orthodox touch player. 

First of all, Virat Kohli isn't God, he is just you and me like normal Indian, but then how he reached where he is - he was a chubby boy like most Indian kid, but with tremendous hunger to learn and willing to do anything(positive things) to be better than before is actually the key for him.

Now, let's come to the most obvious thing, he has very good techniques. But many Indian cricketers are also have that who are struggling in domestic cricket and people generally consider them boring cricketer with limited potential for international cricket. Because there is some reality attached to that. One thing these guys have in common in India that they know how to play big innings. But they lack kind of fitness and mentality Virat kholi possess. Virat also was not that impressive in the beginning of his early career in domestic cricket despite his obvious success in under 19 cricket, but so did some others before him. What separate them from him- timing and hunger and absolutely no compromise attitude. When he entered the IPL (which was at it's beginning too), he suddenly came into contact with the sport strengthening work out and also rise of the Internet helped. Most of the South African, Australian, New Zealanders, West Indian and English cricketers follow Base ball hitting strength-oriented workouts and that's why they hit the way they do. Virat learned all this faster than everyone because of his un put down - able attitude. He quickly realized what he needs to do to be a top quality cricketer who has the ability to destroy and also adapt according to the situation and also build innings(this is very important as this separates him from someone like Pollard). The workout ethics and international athletic diet helped him become more gritty than ever before and also very very strong in mind(which fuelled by his attitude). He wants to be best in the world and win everything that is in front of him, look at how he builds innings, no lethargy, he does what needs to be done, no matter how hard he has to work in the process. This is because of his international athletic training which every young Indian cricketer should do with absolutely no compromise attitude and don't forget not to be someone like Pollard. This is pretty much what makes Virat kholi what he is. You don't need to copy Virat kholi's stance and batting techniques. You can emulate(this is coming from a guy from Kolkata who has nothing to do with Mumbai or Delhi, so you can trust it is actually unbiased) Rohit Sharma's batting techniques too. I personally think he is an outstanding batman but the difference between him(even though he too is a very hard worker) and Virat is - Rohit doesn't possess that kind of ruthless mentality and willing to do anything to be perfect attitude. Virat now trained himself in such a position that he can train hard in gym even after scoring a hundred in one of days in a test match so that he can turned that into a double hundreds. That is what we called sports endurance in gym. Being a gym freak, let me tell you, anyone can be like that, but no one can teach you that Virat kholi type of attitude. You should be able push yourself in the correct manner to have that.

This is athletical body building :

You can follow UFC light weight fighter Jose Aldo's training and diet. 

If you want to be someone like Aldo then diet is very important, in fact in some cases more important than what you are doing in gym. So I am giving the diet that Aldo follows (remember what works for him may not work for you perfectly because every person's requirement and metabolism is different and diet should be according to that, so this is a good example to follow and as you know more about your body, you can decide what works best for you or you can consult with a dietician, you can choose not to follow this)

Breakfast at 8.30am: 2 pieces of toast and a cup of coffee with milk.

At 10.30am: half of a cereal bar.

At 2pm: lunch is salad, chicken or fish.

At 6pm: other half of cereal bar.

At 9pm: salad with chicken or fish.

Goes to bed at 11pm.

Work out :

12 burpees with medicine ball.

2. 12 pull up

3. 12 body excess weight shoulder press

4. 12 reverse rows.

5. 12 single leg squats (each and every leg).

6. 20 push up.

7. 30 seconds planks (elbows).

8. 30 seconds planks (top of the push up placement).

9. Three 10 seconds sprints with 32 seconds rest in between.

Other than the 9th one, every workout has to be done without the rest. Total 9 workouts are called 1st circuit. Relaxation for 1 minute and then repeat the next circuit other than only doing 11 reps for the 1st five physical workouts.

Give the MMA workout program a try out and see if you can beat Jose Aldo's time of significantly less than 35 minutes. Good luck.

This is how basically an athlete trains himself in gym.

Now notice this following picture and practice every cricket shots(orthodox or unorthodox) using that resistance bands(you can find it online)

Now follow these cricket hitting strength training videos -

<a href="https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0</a>

This video is about Baseball but it works for cricket too perfectly.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y</a>

This is a renowned baseball player who knows a thing or two about hitting, just remove everything that is associated with baseball and soak everything that is perfect for cricket because baseball and cricket are very similar except a few things.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ</a>

This guy is also renowned for giving strength hitting tips for baseball and again get rid of the baseball part and soak everything else, he has some valuable tips about what you(a cricketer) should be doing in order to be better at hitting and over all fitness, don't ignore anything, everything is valuable here.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA</a>

<a href="https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo</a>

These guys are more general but follow their tips too.

<a href="https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k</a>

Last but not the least, this is absolutely top level athletic workout, this is excellent for your core.

How can one become like Virat Kohli or big hitter of cricket ball like Chris Gayle?


Very simple practice, practice and practice in nets, your aim would be to become very good timer of cricket ball. This is the first lesson in cricket, if you want to be a big hitter.

However, if you want to be a hard hitter like Chris Gayle then it's a completely different ball game all together. Just follow how Virat Kohli did it from someone who was a orthodox touch player.

First of all, Virat Kohli isn't God, he is just you and me like normal Indian, but then how he reached where he is - he was a chubby boy like most Indian kid, but with tremendous hunger to learn and willing to do anything(positive things) to be better than before is actually the key for him.

Now, let's come to the most obvious thing, he has very good techniques. But many Indian cricketers are also have that who are struggling in domestic cricket and people generally consider them boring cricketer with limited potential for international cricket. Because there is some reality attached to that. One thing these guys have in common in India that they know how to play big innings. But they lack kind of fitness and mentality Virat kholi possess. Virat also was not that impressive in the beginning of his early career in domestic cricket despite his obvious success in under 19 cricket, but so did some others before him. What separate them from him- timing and hunger and absolutely no compromise attitude. When he entered the IPL (which was at it's beginning too), he suddenly came into contact with the sport strengthening work out and also rise of the Internet helped. Most of the South African, Australian, New Zealanders, West Indian and English cricketers follow Base ball hitting strength-oriented workouts and that's why they hit the way they do. Virat learned all this faster than everyone because of his un put down - able attitude. He quickly realized what he needs to do to be a top quality cricketer who has the ability to destroy and also adapt according to the situation and also build innings(this is very important as this separates him from someone like Pollard). The workout ethics and international athletic diet helped him become more gritty than ever before and also very very strong in mind(which fuelled by his attitude). He wants to be best in the world and win everything that is in front of him, look at how he builds innings, no lethargy, he does what needs to be done, no matter how hard he has to work in the process. This is because of his international athletic training which every young Indian cricketer should do with absolutely no compromise attitude and don't forget not to be someone like Pollard. This is pretty much what makes Virat kholi what he is. You don't need to copy Virat kholi's stance and batting techniques. You can emulate(this is coming from a guy from Kolkata who has nothing to do with Mumbai or Delhi, so you can trust it is actually unbiased) Rohit Sharma's batting techniques too. I personally think he is an outstanding batman but the difference between him(even though he too is a very hard worker) and Virat is - Rohit doesn't possess that kind of ruthless mentality and willing to do anything to be perfect attitude. Virat now trained himself in such a position that he can train hard in gym even after scoring a hundred in one of days in a test match so that he can turned that into a double hundreds. That is what we called sports endurance in gym. Being a gym freak, let me tell you, anyone can be like that, but no one can teach you that Virat kholi type of attitude. You should be able push yourself in the correct manner to have that.

This is athletical body building :

You can follow UFC light weight fighter Jose Aldo's training and diet.

If you want to be someone like Aldo then diet is very important, in fact in some cases more important than what you are doing in gym. So I am giving the diet that Aldo follows (remember what works for him may not work for you perfectly because every person's requirement and metabolism is different and diet should be according to that, so this is a good example to follow and as you know more about your body, you can decide what works best for you or you can consult with a dietician, you can choose not to follow this)

Breakfast at 8.30am: 2 pieces of toast and a cup of coffee with milk.

At 10.30am: half of a cereal bar.

At 2pm: lunch is salad, chicken or fish.

At 6pm: other half of cereal bar.

At 9pm: salad with chicken or fish.

Goes to bed at 11pm.

Work out :

12 burpees with medicine ball.

2. 12 pull up

3. 12 body excess weight shoulder press

4. 12 reverse rows.

5. 12 single leg squats (each and every leg).

6. 20 push up.

7. 30 seconds planks (elbows).

8. 30 seconds planks (top of the push up placement).

9. Three 10 seconds sprints with 32 seconds rest in between.

Other than the 9th one, every workout has to be done without the rest. Total 9 workouts are called 1st circuit. Relaxation for 1 minute and then repeat the next circuit other than only doing 11 reps for the 1st five physical workouts.

Give the MMA workout program a try out and see if you can beat Jose Aldo's time of significantly less than 35 minutes. Good luck.

This is how basically an athlete trains himself in gym.

Now notice this following picture and practice every cricket shots(orthodox or unorthodox) using that resistance bands(you can find it online)

Now follow these cricket hitting strength training videos -

https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0

This video is about Baseball but it works for cricket too perfectly.

https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y

This is a renowned baseball player who knows a thing or two about hitting, just remove everything that is associated with baseball and soak everything that is perfect for cricket because baseball and cricket are very similar except a few things.

https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ

This guy is also renowned for giving strength hitting tips for baseball and again get rid of the baseball part and soak everything else, he has some valuable tips about what you(a cricketer) should be doing in order to be better at hitting and over all fitness, don't ignore anything, everything is valuable here.

https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA

https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo

These guys are more general but follow their tips too.

https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k

Last but not the least, this is absolutely top level athletic workout, this is excellent for your core.

3 Love

Are bodyweight exercises better than going to the gym and lifting weights?

Okay let's cut some bullshit.

Yes, body weight exercise more beneficial for muscle growth.

When one doing bodyweight exercises then all of his muscles works extra vigilantly to activate as a result better muscle growth.

But let's get one thing straight I have heard a lot of bullshit like why are you going to the gym and lifting weights when you can do bodyweight exercises

This is absolutely bullshit

Why?

Because most people when they began can't even do one single push up and forget about pull up or dips

So how can they do one bodyweight exercise?

Let's break one myth here lifting random weight is way easier than bodyweight exercises for a beginner

Let's say you are a beginner and you are lifting 20 kg at the first attempt, you are very proud of yourself, aren't you?

Well, try doing bodyweight exercises

If you are a skinny guy with 50–60 kg weight

When you're doing pushups you are lifting at least 60% of your body weight which means approximately 40–50 kg

So no wonder you might find it difficult

Unless you are strong enough to do that which is possible for a skinny guy

But not everyone is skinny

I mean most people probably weight more than 80kg when they first started going to the gym

Which means when they try to do push up they are lifting at least 50–60–70 kg approximately

Yeah, sounds difficult for a newbie, isn't it?

Which is why bench press or lifting random weight can be easier here

And trainers generally ask you to do traditional gym lifting exercise

Get stronger doing those first

At least target lifting 70–80% of your bodyweight and then jump back to these bodyweight exercises.

You will find them so so easy.

If you are being able to do these bodyweight exercises from the beginning then by all means do that.

Nothing is better than that

You can challenge yourself later by adding stuff like weight belt etc for getting stronger and bigger

You can do every exercise in home as well

Provided you know how to do that

Going to the gym isn't important here

Do you know stuff?

This is more important

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5 Love

Do you think Gyms would work better if they were male only or female only? Can you explain which will be your preference and why?

Ha, ha, ha, ha

Okay, my first big gym experience in Kolkata.

It was integrated gym.

It was owned by the local municipality.

It was one of those multigym.

Before that I used to do only with barbells and dumbells in a small gym in my locality which barely accomodate people.

Now in this gym plenty of girls used to work out with us.

I am not going to lie, guys used to ogle at them but it was never crossing any limit of modesty as a result number of girls increased with time.

We had no problem with that

Contrary to popular opinion, I have seen guys actually interested in building their bodies than constantly obsessing over girls.

They actually was busy in their workout

What we (guys) had a issue that they used to talk a lot rather than working out

But thankfully guys were clever enough not bother to lecture them about anything

We used to quietly have an word with the guy that was in charge of that gym and let him handle the situation

I have never seen any ugly situation like trying to hit on girls and situation keep getting worse from there

I did see them talking after the workout when some guys were going together with some girls but other than that it was all pretty intense workout

I honestly never had any problems with girls in gym.

At first I did give a lecture to some girl that what is the correct way to do certain workout and stuff but then quickly realised let them do their stuff let me do mine

Honestly I personally never had any issues

Being an Indian the only problem I had that even though it was large gym but it was with too many people as a result it was hard doing workout at certain pace as finding the bench empty was quite a challenge

After some time I got pissed off decided to buy my own home gym(thankfully I could afford it then) and worked out with peace

Now I am an owner of few gyms and it has become a very good side business

What I tend to notice that girls normally when first join a gym they demand a separate times for their workout with women only

But as the time goes they themselves break that and work with guys and after few months there are no girl only time exist

This is my experience

What do you think?

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3 Love

"IF I WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TICKET,

  I WOULDN'T HAVE CAUGHT THE TRAIN" :)


*STRANGE EXPERIENCE*
it is well said that life is full of unexpected things. In an motivational  video by Ben Lionel Scott on you tube I've listened hundreds of times  that life gives us what we want. Also, the great writer, Mr. Paulo Coelho have said in his international bestseller fable named "THE ALCHEMIST"  that " when you want something, all the universe conspire in helping you to achieve it." 
I was in the middle on fable "The Monk Who Sold His Ferrari" by Robin Sharma, I was like I was up above the summit of the sky and the chasm of the ocean too. I was deeply feeling his words that filled me with strong enthusiasm and touch the core of my soul. NOW, I was more stronger than I was, more resilient too. I started laughing out loud without any reason. I did not need a reason to laugh. I was feeling the changes in me. Really, there was an inevitable, strong but natural, force attracting me towards it or may be I was attracting towards that.
 I don't know what was that but I'm writing this because this is the time, THE RIGHT NOW, I can write or let it slip. But I can't go away from this force and the feeling too. So I'm penning it down, now.
It was late that night about 1:30. I usually went off to sleep at 11. But I was still awoke and was talking to a girl. It is a natural tendency of boys fascinating towards girls. I need to catch the train in morning at 08:40 from Sarai Rohilla railway station for Mohindergarh, my hometown. But I was still enjoying talking to her. Finally she said I want to sleep and I let her sleep because I also wanted to sleep. I put an alarm of 7 and slept.
The alarm was going off and I woke up in agile. I got fresh, brushed the teeth, took the bag on shoulder, locked the room and finally got out of the flat. On the way, I took out my phone and found it was already 7:25. I had a fear of missing the train in my mind but my intuition was so strong that I knew that I wouldn't let the train went off without boarding me in. I reached the metro station at about 7:35 and got the metro anon. I changed the metro from Rajeev Chowk and from Kashmiri gate too. But it was misfortune that I got confused between Shastri Nagar and Shastri park metro station and the metro took me to the Shastri park instead of Shastri Nagar. I asked someone the way of railway station and he assured me that I got confuse between the names and I need to go back now. That splendid my mind with the fear of missing the train.But my intuition did not let rule that fear over me. And finally I reached Shastri Nagar metro station and deboard from metro station and checked the time that it was 8:32. The railway station was about 2 KM away from there and I did not find a single auto rickshaw there, not a single one. Then I decided to go with a rickshaw. I was thudding down my phone over my wrist on the way and finally I managed to reach the station at 8:38. I thanked God from my intuition.
I rushed in the ticket counter and found that there was a huge line on the counter and meanwhile the speaker at the station announced that "the train no. this this that from Delhi Sarai Rohilla to Bikaner is going to leave from platform no. 4."  What a shit? 
It was the time I have to decide whether I should should take the ticket or not. In my subconscious, there  was a thing, from the past experiences, that it's super fast train and nobody would come to check the tickets on a general coach. I've gone many times through the same route and the same train and I never found any ticket checker, not a single time. So i decided to not to take the ticket. This happened within a fraction of time.
I had no fear of anything and I was happy that my intuition was right and caught the train. Then I realized that I'm hearing a strong horn and found that the train started moving. The train was 4 platform away from me and I needed to go by the over bridge. I ran as fast as I can and finally got in the train. I was inhaling deeply and smiling too because finally I was in train  and luckily I got a seat too. Before my breathe got normal, the train's speed was on its peak.
On the way, I wanted to read the novel as I always carry something to read on a journey. But there was a group of two girls and a boy who was directing and disturbing too to concentrate me on the novel. I laughed on the silly things they were talking about the college life and functions. But then he said that, in society, men must dominate women and should take the decision for women. He also said that it is written in Vedas and Purana like Geeta and Mahabharata. I wanted to interrupt but i let it be. I don't wanted to get involved. I  just thought that, " did he ever read a single religion book? " And i started looking out of the window. After some time, the train was at Rewari station.
As I did not eat anything since morning, I decided to take sips of tea and I got one. After a few minutes the train started moving again. This time I was free to read my novel as the group was not there. It was about an hour away from my hometown, I was totally involved in the novel and then I heard a loud voice that changed my mind. YES, there were ticket checkers in the coach and they were arguing with a family about the tickets. Whatever they were doing with the family, my mid skip that thing and I thought, I did not have the ticket, what should I do?
As from the past experience of one of my friend that he told me once that he got stuck in same situation and he used washroom to escape from the ticket checkers. An uncle was sitting besides me and I asked him that I did not have any ticket. what should I do? He also suggested the same thing to go to washroom. I, then, decided to go to washroom. I thought to go on the same side where the ticket checkers were checking the tickets but then a thought came to my mind that there is a fine difference between a brave and moron and I went on the another side of the coach. I found the washroom too away from my seat and came back to my seat without going to the washroom. I did not know what was happening with me. I could stand there in washroom and get escaped.
I was not feeling strange although it was first time with me. I was like i already knew that I would face this situation. Mentally, I was strong and intuitively, I was stronger. I had no fear of chasing the ticket checkers. Still I was sure that the ticket checkers would not check me or I would not let them to check me. My intuition was inflexible. I also thought that if there's 1% chance of being caught, I would pay them the fine, simple ! I was smiling on myself and found this situation a pleasure. Then I stood up and started going towards the ticket checkers to the washroom. I counted them. they were 4. Two of them were arguing with the family and rest were checking the tickets. On the way I excused a ticket checker for letting me go and he let me go towards the washroom. I was in the washroom now and thinking what to do now? Then I decided to go and stood where the two ticket checkers were arguing with the family because there were 4-5 person standing and enjoying the whole drama. I came out and did not go near the drama. I stood near the coach gate and started enjoying the rapid air touching my face. I stood there for 20 minutes and finally the train stopped at Mohindergarh railway station. I went back to my seat and found that the ticket checkers had already gone. I collected my bag and novel. Then the uncle asked me in an exciting manner that what did happen? Did they catch you? You paid fine? I smiled and said that I am fine and nothing happened also I said:  " IF I WOULD HAVE TAKEN THE TICKET,  I WOULDN'T HAVE CAUGHT THE TRAIN" :)

4 Love

"As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones. A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me. A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea. Enjoy. Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud *~*~* Part I *~*~* Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother. "Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips. Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?" Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you." "And what kinds of things might they be?" "You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?" "Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A." Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo." Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that? Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo. The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen. "You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child." "I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..." "I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen." "Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone." Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment. "It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special." "How so?" "You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo." Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis." "Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled. It was her very first bawoo. Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms. As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie. People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty. Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!" Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs. Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely. She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving. From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy. At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly. Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off. Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her. Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders. For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done. But they weren't done. Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly. "C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed." Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that. Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes. It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot. Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run. Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did. Bawoo. She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer. *~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~* Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin. They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense. Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes." "Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm." Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it. "Cat?" Richard finally guessed. Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say." Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'." Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again. Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast. The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy. "Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress. "Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head. "I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means." "Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed. Stupid "imu" puzzle. Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh." Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder. Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin. Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?" She had a point. Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point. Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach. By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee. Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats. Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip. Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half. Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit. He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee. "How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort. "Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them. This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly. "S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach." "That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now." They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company. Lizzie... and her fiancée. Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out. "I'm getting married." "Wah - huh?" His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married." "Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?" "Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip." "Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..." "You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach." "Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality." "C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge." It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?" "I haven't told her yet." "You called me before Mom?" "Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first." Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it. Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend. "C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?" He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice. Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first." But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast. Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better. They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late."

As always, everyone in this story is eighteen years or older. This is a completely standalone story totally apart from my intricately related other ones.

A heads-up for those with short attention spans: this is long. Look elsewhere for a quick fix. I won't judge you for looking for something shorter and please don't judge me.

A heads-up for the squeamish types too: there are equal parts incest and anal here. Hope that's your cup of tea.

Enjoy.

Words on Skin: A little sister can't say some things out loud

*~*~* Part I *~*~*

Lizzie watched as her best friend Jessica brushed past her brother again on her way through their kitchen. The house was packed full of people and there was plenty to eat and drink in every room but Jess still managed to find a reason to swing through the kitchen every fifteen minutes to flirt with her brother.

"Heya stud," Jessica smiled, "it really is nice to see you back around these parts again. I kinda missed you." She winked, nodded at Lizzie and wandered off again with a few gratuitous wiggles of her curvy hips.

Lizzie's brother leaned into her with the question she saw coming, "Okay, what's with Jess? Does she like me now or something?"

Lizzie smirked and waited until Jessica turned a corner out of earshot. "Let's just say she likes the kinds of things she could do with you."

"And what kinds of things might they be?"

"You're the dumbest smart guy I know but even you're not that dumb. Either take that frisky cheerleader friend of mine upstairs and find out for yourself or stay down here and hang out with your adorable kid sister. Sounds like a close one. Want me to get a coin for you to flip, Scooter?"

"Don't bother dog-girl, I'm going with plan A."

Lizzie watched her brother toddle after Jessica. As consolation, she took a long swig of her beer, swallowed, and howled softly to herself, "Bawoo."

Her brother Richard was a year older and actually was the dumbest smart guy she knew. Sometimes she swore he couldn't see the nose in front of his face. He was pure book smarts from head to toe. He'd steamrolled through high school - racking up the highest GPA in the school's history then nailed a perfect SAT. He'd even be finishing up his undergraduate ahead of schedule. Less than three years for a physics degree at one of the best programs in the country? Who the hell could compete with that?

Lizzie sighed. She was proud of her big brother but sometimes he made her feel small. All she could do was run. Ba-frickin'-woo.

The "dog-girl" and "bawoo" thing? That started when her middle school track coach came to visit their house after school eight years ago. Lizzie and her brother snuck to the top of the stairs to listen to the grown-ups talking down in the kitchen.

"You have a lovely home, Miss Robbins, and I appreciate your agreeing to see me. I know you're a busy woman so I won't take up too much of your time. I'm happy to tell you that you have a very gifted child."

"I'm quite proud of Richard, but I thought..."

"I'm not here to talk about your son. I'm here to talk about Elizabeth. I'm her track coach. I thought you should know that Liz is an excellent runner. In fact, she may just be the best I've ever seen."

"Really? I mean, I guess she has always been quick on her little feet. If I look away for a second she's gone."

Lizzie remembered beaming proudly at Richard upstairs. She took this as a big compliment.

"It's more than just that, Miss Robbins. Look, middle school kids? Even the fast ones? They're a mess when they run, all of them pushing and shoving to get up front, to lead right from the beginning. It's complete chaos. None of them have the maturity or the patience to pace themselves. To hang back and wait for the right time to make their move. Hell, most of them won't even figure that out in high school. But not Lizzie. She's... she's very special."

"How so?"

"You need to come to our track meets. To support her and see what I mean at the same time. Lizzie doesn't run. She... well... she chases." The coach's voice grew more excited, "She does it every race. It's a beautiful thing to watch. Less than halfway through, Lizzie falls in a few yards behind the lead girl. She tracks her. She... she drives her. Heck, she even baits her. Then at the very end, Lizzie simply runs her down. Honestly, I don't think I'd even call what Liz does 'cross-country.' She's not just running. She's hunting. Like a... like a little dingo."

Upstairs, Richard hugged her with one arm and teased her softly, "Sweet, Mom's going to buy you a flea collar, sis."

"Bawoo," Lizzie howled quietly into his shoulder and giggled.

It was her very first bawoo.

Of course, the coach's offhand nickname stuck with Lizzie and "Li'l Dingo" would eventually be stitched across the back of her track uniforms.

As the years went by, Lizzie ran and ran and her body changed. By high school, the quick little blonde pixie became a sleek and slender young woman. Lizzie looked like a gazelle but she still ran like a predator. Chasing. Hunting. Winning. In fact, she would win state finals in cross country each of her four years in high school, a feat unheard of before Lizzie.

People even came to track meets to watch her. And who could blame them? She was hotter than hell in her school's skimpy little track uniforms, long, sleekly muscled legs and bobbing little breasts. Her finishes were always spectacular too. After loping along patiently at the number two spot for three miles, she'd get this crazy little grin. Then her legs would stretch, they'd quicken, and Lizzie would start her race. Without fail, she'd chase that poor last girl down like something small and tasty.

Two months ago, when Lizzie broke through the yellow tape at her last high school race, she didn't have to howl for herself. Her coaches, her family, and classmates were doing it for her, for their favorite little dingo, "Bawoo! Bawoo!"

Lizzie snapped out of her reminiscing when Richard reappeared with Jessica. The curvy, raven-haired cheerleader winked at Lizzie as she led her brother upstairs. One of Jessica's hands was already playing at the bottom of her tight tank top, obviously itching to get it off. Jessica liked to show off her body and Lizzie didn't blame her. Speaking objectively, Jessica's breasts were spectacular and she had every right to be proud of them. Of course, half the guys in their high school class could draw them from memory. Perhaps Jess was a little too proud of her boobs.

Lizzie took the next couple of minutes to finish her beer then she set it down. She chewed her lip again, pondering, then decided to follow them. She was more than a little curious and she knew her brother well. Odds were that he'd be too distracted by Jessica's charms to shut his sticky bedroom door completely.

She crept up towards his bedroom and she was right. There was a quite peekable gap left. She sat herself tipsily down on the floor for a little bit of perving. Okay, a lot of perving.

From the look of things, Richard was having one of the best nights of his life. Jessica had always been that perfect cheerleadery mix of flexibility and eagerness that drove guys crazy.

At that moment, Jessica was topless and cupping her oversized, flawless breasts in her hands with her lips wrapped around half of Richard's cock. Lizzie gaped. Her brother's erection was impressive and while Jess was working her mouth down on it steadily, she was definitely struggling. Her full lips strained to fit around his shaft. When she finally swallowed his entire length, she groaned from her chest and bobbed slightly.

Lizzie had to admit, Jess knew how to please a guy. The curvy brunette never forgot to look up and keep eye-contact with her brother even as her hands slid down from her own tits and under her skirt to quickly drag a small white thong down and off.

Yep, Jess knew what she was doing. Lizzie watched as her gal pal ditched her skirt then scooted onto the bed on her back and spread her legs. Lizzie and her brother's eyes were both drawn to the same place. Jessica was shaved completely bare. Her tiny glistening sex was a perfectly smooth and pink invitation. Scooter paused only long enough to finish getting his pants off and quickly slid on top of her.

Lizzie watched her friend's mouth fall open as Richard eased himself into her. Jess shifted and pulled her legs up very high, limberly hooking them over Richard's shoulders. Yep, flexible and eager. Damn cheerleaders.

For the next half hour, Lizzie watched her brother make love to her best friend. She was appalled and excited at the same time. Jessica shivered through three separate and very satisfying-looking orgasms before Richard groaned his own release. Lizzie assumed they were done.

But they weren't done.

Jessica slipped herself off the bed and did something Lizzie didn't expect -- not from her eighteen year-old friend. Jess stood, turned, and bent herself forward at the waist with her upper body on the bed. She swished her little cheerleadery bubble butt temptingly.

"C'mere Scooter, I've got this other hole you missed."

Out in the hallway, Lizzie's eyes slowly widened. Partly because Jessica had just used Lizzie's nickname for her brother. And partly because Jessica offered what she did - Lizzie had no idea her friend did... well... that.

Mostly though, Lizzie was astonished because her big brother, her sweet and gentle Scooter who used to read her bedtime stories when they were little, didn't hesitate. He simply stood and moved behind Jessica and then gave her just what she asked for, pressing himself into her ass with no more than a nod. Jessica whimpered at the invasion but didn't move away. Worst of all, the bastard was good at it, judging from the very happy groans Jessica made over the next ten minutes.

It was wrong and dirty and nasty and... hot.

Peering through the crack into her brother's bedroom at the gleeful sodomy scene, Lizzie's surprised face slowly spread into the same determined expression she wore at the last 100 yards of every race she'd ever run.

Lizzie would chase. And she'd win. She always did.

Bawoo.

She wandered back downstairs quietly for another beer.

*~*~* Part II -- One year later *~*~*

Twenty-years and two days old, Richard woke to the sounds of sea gulls crying and surf lapping at the beach. But it wasn't either of those things that drew him out of his sleep. It was a slender little finger that did it. That finger was tracing letters across his back. It wasn't all that odd, his kid sister Lizzie liked to wake him up this way - writing words on his skin.

They'd written messages like this for each other since they were children. It was their mother's idea. When they were young, their family went on long car rides to visit their grandparents. Little Richard and Elizabeth would get noisy in the back seat along the way -- two hours of nonstop tickling, poking, fighting, laughing and crying. Normal kid stuff, really. Unfortunately, their father was a bit high-strung and those long drives to see his in-laws only made him more tense.

Their mom did what good moms do. She buffered. She taught her children skinwriting to keep them occupied. "Give her your hand, Richie," his mother nodded at his sister from the front seat. "And close your eyes."

"Okay, now you think of a word, Liz. A small one. But don't say it out loud, honey. Ready? Now spell it on your brother's palm."

Liz nodded and traced each letter of her word with her tiny seven year-old finger. She had to write it twice before he could get it.

"Cat?" Richard finally guessed.

Liz giggled and their mother smiled. "Very good, you two. Lizzie, keep going until Richard guesses wrong. Let's see how many words you can get him to say."

Over the next two hours, their parents listened to the more peaceful sounds of elementary school vocabulary coming up from their backseat. "Dog." "House." "Truck." "Chicken, but you forgot the other 'c'."

Their mother's strange little improvised game was one of the many things that built a strong bond between Richard and Lizzie over the years. They had their tiffs and their struggles but they stuck by each other more than other siblings they knew. That bond grew even tighter when their family shrank a few years later. Their father died of a heart attack. No one was surprised -- he'd always been wound pretty tight. Their Mom missed him but she was leading an active, happy life again.

Richard focused on his sister's finger as it traced the three quick letters of her ritual puzzle before moving on to what she was going to make for breakfast.

The puzzle? He'd never solved it. Feeling what was for breakfast? That was easy.

"Pancakes," he muttered into the mattress.

"Good boy. And the other thing?" she scratched the thick brown hair at the back of his head.

"I still have no fucking idea what the hell 'imu' means."

"Ooh, poor little Scooter. Don't worry, you'll get it someday. You're the smartest dumb guy I know," she patted his back and left him alone to get dressed.

Stupid "imu" puzzle.

Eight years ago, he'd told her that she'd misspelled 'emu' and described the little ostrich-like bird. She'd laughed and shook her head, "Uh uh."

Seven years ago, he'd guessed that she'd cheated and skipped the apostrophe for "I'm U." Some sort of funny poetry thing. This of course made no sense. She'd laughed harder.

Lizzie's hardest laugh came three years ago when Richard, fresh from his first few weeks of high school physics had figured out that "I" was the letter for electrical current and the Greek letter "mu" was the symbol commonly used for a coefficient of friction. Thus, "I mu" meant "current friction" referring to how her finger was rubbing across his skin.

Lizzie had nearly wet herself laughing, "Dumbass, I wrote that for you when I was ten years-old. I barely understood what you just said now. How the hell could I have meant that then?"

She had a point.

Richard sighed into his pillow. He knew he was smarter than average and that he was pretty good at figuring things out. The fact that his little sister had stumped him for so long was a sore point.

Well, Lizzie was right about one thing -- pancakes sounded perfect for their first day at the beach.

By the time he splashed some water on his face and pulled on a bathing suit then made it to the kitchen, Lizzie had already finished cooking and was pouring coffee.

Amend that, pouring coffee in a bikini. Good god, his heart skipped several beats.

Lizzie's back was turned to him and the little black bikini's strings were knotted loosely at the middle of her back, her neck, and each hip.

Richard had long since made peace with the fact that his kid sister was far and away the prettiest girl he knew. Blonde with gigantic, soft, bambi-brown eyes, she was a gifted long distance runner and it showed. Basically, everyone agreed she looked like a gazelle. Her long, slender legs swept up into an equally sleek little ass. Her slim, tight upper body matched her lower half.

Lizzie Robbins was built for speed. And bikinis. She looked amazing in that suit.

He snapped out of his daze when she turned, golden ponytail swinging, and handed him a cup of coffee.

"How late did you get here last night?" she asked as she slid into her seat at the table. The motion made her round breasts sway slightly in her top and he only looked away with effort.

"Oh, a little after two. It took me that long to sober up from the birthday party they threw me at school. I'm going to need a lot of coffee today. Thanks." As proof, he took a long drag from his cup. His eyes flicked down her body again before he could stop them.

This time she caught him looking. "Like my new suit?" she needled him a bit, eyebrow cocked coyly.

"S'not bad," he shrugged. "It's just funny seeing you wearing it in the kitchen. My shy kid sister used to wear t-shirts over her suit right up until we got to the beach."

"That had more to do with Mom being around than being shy, dummy," she half-smiled, "No mom around to harass me now."

They ate breakfast and stepped out the back door and onto a patio overlooking a beach that they had all to themselves. Lizzie said her fiancée's parents rented the beach house for them for the last month of the summer, but he'd gotten dragged away to help with his Dad's company.

Lizzie... and her fiancée.

Wow, it even sounded weird. His little Lizzie, just one year into college, was getting married? And she'd never even brought the guy home to meet her family. She'd always been independent and headstrong but this was ridiculous. He only found out when she called him late one night from school with her engagement news that spring. He'd answered the phone and, before he'd even said hello, she just blurted it out.

"I'm getting married."

"Wah - huh?"

His sister giggled over the phone. "Married, Scooter. I'm getting married."

"Who? When? Why?" A bad answer to that last question popped into his head, "Oh god, you're pregnant aren't you?"

"Relax silly, I'm not preggo. His name is... okay, don't make fun... his name is Chip."

"Chip?!" he laughed, he couldn't help it. "This is some kind of sick joke..."

"You're really going to talk smack about names, Scooter? For real, his name is Chip. And he's a great guy. We're going to get married this summer. At the beach."

"Lizzie, I told you -- pot or tequila. Never both. You really can't mix them and keep a grip on reality."

"C'mon Scooter, I'm sober. Well, mostly sober. But more importantly, I am serious. I really am getting married. He just gave me a ring tonight and everything. Wait until you see it. It's fucking huge."

It finally sank in, she wasn't kidding. "Wow. Okay. So what did Mom say?"

"I haven't told her yet."

"You called me before Mom?"

"Of course silly, you're my brother. And brothers come first."

Brothers come first. That one tugged at his heartstrings because there was some history to it.

Richard had given little Lizzie her first kiss. It had been her idea and it was very innocent. She'd said she was worried about making a fool of herself with her first boyfriend.

"C'mon Scooter, please?" She'd pleaded with him. "I brushed my teeth and used some of Mom's mouthwash and everything. No cooties, I swear." But then she'd looked at him seriously and said something that had never even occurred to him back then, "Just don't do anything gross like put your tongue in my mouth, okay?"

He did like she asked, he kissed her. Their young lips merged hesitantly in a tender way for a long moment. Actually, it waskinda nice.

Lizzie had smiled hugely afterwards. "See, that wasn't so bad was it? Now you'll always be the first boy to kiss me. Cool huh?" She darted in and pecked his cheek in a more sisterly way. "Thanks, Scooter. You know, I think brothers should always come first."

But that would change soon. She'd be someone's wife. It was all happening too fast.

Richard pushed these thoughts away and focused on the now as he and his sister crossed the beach then swam out about forty yards into the surf where the waves just began to curl. They were both comfortable in the water and Lizzie was practically fearless when it came to picking her waves. The bigger the better.

They picked out their respective spots, alternatingly bobbing, waiting and surfing. Later, when Lizzie came back from her last wave, she swam over to him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Mind if I hang on you, bro? Can't touch bottom here like you," she pouted, "not tall enough. And I see you're catching the nicer rides from here." It was true. The largest waves were just beginning to curl where he could barely stand. Just a few yards further in, Lizzie had to duck under them because it was too late.

 

13 Love
How can one become like Virat Kohli or big hitter of cricket ball like Chris Gayle?


Very simple practice, practice and practice in nets, your aim would be to become very good timer of cricket ball. This is the first lesson in cricket, if you want to be a big hitter.

However, if you want to be a hard hitter like Chris Gayle then it's a completely different ball game all together. Just follow how Virat Kohli did it from someone who was a orthodox touch player. 

First of all, Virat Kohli isn't God, he is just you and me like normal Indian, but then how he reached where he is - he was a chubby boy like most Indian kid, but with tremendous hunger to learn and willing to do anything(positive things) to be better than before is actually the key for him.

Now, let's come to the most obvious thing, he has very good techniques. But many Indian cricketers are also have that who are struggling in domestic cricket and people generally consider them boring cricketer with limited potential for international cricket. Because there is some reality attached to that. One thing these guys have in common in India that they know how to play big innings. But they lack kind of fitness and mentality Virat kholi possess. Virat also was not that impressive in the beginning of his early career in domestic cricket despite his obvious success in under 19 cricket, but so did some others before him. What separate them from him- timing and hunger and absolutely no compromise attitude. When he entered the IPL (which was at it's beginning too), he suddenly came into contact with the sport strengthening work out and also rise of the Internet helped. Most of the South African, Australian, New Zealanders, West Indian and English cricketers follow Base ball hitting strength-oriented workouts and that's why they hit the way they do. Virat learned all this faster than everyone because of his un put down - able attitude. He quickly realized what he needs to do to be a top quality cricketer who has the ability to destroy and also adapt according to the situation and also build innings(this is very important as this separates him from someone like Pollard). The workout ethics and international athletic diet helped him become more gritty than ever before and also very very strong in mind(which fuelled by his attitude). He wants to be best in the world and win everything that is in front of him, look at how he builds innings, no lethargy, he does what needs to be done, no matter how hard he has to work in the process. This is because of his international athletic training which every young Indian cricketer should do with absolutely no compromise attitude and don't forget not to be someone like Pollard. This is pretty much what makes Virat kholi what he is. You don't need to copy Virat kholi's stance and batting techniques. You can emulate(this is coming from a guy from Kolkata who has nothing to do with Mumbai or Delhi, so you can trust it is actually unbiased) Rohit Sharma's batting techniques too. I personally think he is an outstanding batman but the difference between him(even though he too is a very hard worker) and Virat is - Rohit doesn't possess that kind of ruthless mentality and willing to do anything to be perfect attitude. Virat now trained himself in such a position that he can train hard in gym even after scoring a hundred in one of days in a test match so that he can turned that into a double hundreds. That is what we called sports endurance in gym. Being a gym freak, let me tell you, anyone can be like that, but no one can teach you that Virat kholi type of attitude. You should be able push yourself in the correct manner to have that.

This is athletical body building :

You can follow UFC light weight fighter Jose Aldo's training and diet. 

If you want to be someone like Aldo then diet is very important, in fact in some cases more important than what you are doing in gym. So I am giving the diet that Aldo follows (remember what works for him may not work for you perfectly because every person's requirement and metabolism is different and diet should be according to that, so this is a good example to follow and as you know more about your body, you can decide what works best for you or you can consult with a dietician, you can choose not to follow this)

Breakfast at 8.30am: 2 pieces of toast and a cup of coffee with milk.

At 10.30am: half of a cereal bar.

At 2pm: lunch is salad, chicken or fish.

At 6pm: other half of cereal bar.

At 9pm: salad with chicken or fish.

Goes to bed at 11pm.

Work out :

12 burpees with medicine ball.

2. 12 pull up

3. 12 body excess weight shoulder press

4. 12 reverse rows.

5. 12 single leg squats (each and every leg).

6. 20 push up.

7. 30 seconds planks (elbows).

8. 30 seconds planks (top of the push up placement).

9. Three 10 seconds sprints with 32 seconds rest in between.

Other than the 9th one, every workout has to be done without the rest. Total 9 workouts are called 1st circuit. Relaxation for 1 minute and then repeat the next circuit other than only doing 11 reps for the 1st five physical workouts.

Give the MMA workout program a try out and see if you can beat Jose Aldo's time of significantly less than 35 minutes. Good luck.

This is how basically an athlete trains himself in gym.

Now notice this following picture and practice every cricket shots(orthodox or unorthodox) using that resistance bands(you can find it online)

Now follow these cricket hitting strength training videos -

<a href="https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0</a>

This video is about Baseball but it works for cricket too perfectly.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y</a>

This is a renowned baseball player who knows a thing or two about hitting, just remove everything that is associated with baseball and soak everything that is perfect for cricket because baseball and cricket are very similar except a few things.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ</a>

This guy is also renowned for giving strength hitting tips for baseball and again get rid of the baseball part and soak everything else, he has some valuable tips about what you(a cricketer) should be doing in order to be better at hitting and over all fitness, don't ignore anything, everything is valuable here.

<a href="https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA</a>

<a href="https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo</a>

These guys are more general but follow their tips too.

<a href="https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k" class="tagAnchor"  target="_blank">https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k</a>

Last but not the least, this is absolutely top level athletic workout, this is excellent for your core.

How can one become like Virat Kohli or big hitter of cricket ball like Chris Gayle?


Very simple practice, practice and practice in nets, your aim would be to become very good timer of cricket ball. This is the first lesson in cricket, if you want to be a big hitter.

However, if you want to be a hard hitter like Chris Gayle then it's a completely different ball game all together. Just follow how Virat Kohli did it from someone who was a orthodox touch player.

First of all, Virat Kohli isn't God, he is just you and me like normal Indian, but then how he reached where he is - he was a chubby boy like most Indian kid, but with tremendous hunger to learn and willing to do anything(positive things) to be better than before is actually the key for him.

Now, let's come to the most obvious thing, he has very good techniques. But many Indian cricketers are also have that who are struggling in domestic cricket and people generally consider them boring cricketer with limited potential for international cricket. Because there is some reality attached to that. One thing these guys have in common in India that they know how to play big innings. But they lack kind of fitness and mentality Virat kholi possess. Virat also was not that impressive in the beginning of his early career in domestic cricket despite his obvious success in under 19 cricket, but so did some others before him. What separate them from him- timing and hunger and absolutely no compromise attitude. When he entered the IPL (which was at it's beginning too), he suddenly came into contact with the sport strengthening work out and also rise of the Internet helped. Most of the South African, Australian, New Zealanders, West Indian and English cricketers follow Base ball hitting strength-oriented workouts and that's why they hit the way they do. Virat learned all this faster than everyone because of his un put down - able attitude. He quickly realized what he needs to do to be a top quality cricketer who has the ability to destroy and also adapt according to the situation and also build innings(this is very important as this separates him from someone like Pollard). The workout ethics and international athletic diet helped him become more gritty than ever before and also very very strong in mind(which fuelled by his attitude). He wants to be best in the world and win everything that is in front of him, look at how he builds innings, no lethargy, he does what needs to be done, no matter how hard he has to work in the process. This is because of his international athletic training which every young Indian cricketer should do with absolutely no compromise attitude and don't forget not to be someone like Pollard. This is pretty much what makes Virat kholi what he is. You don't need to copy Virat kholi's stance and batting techniques. You can emulate(this is coming from a guy from Kolkata who has nothing to do with Mumbai or Delhi, so you can trust it is actually unbiased) Rohit Sharma's batting techniques too. I personally think he is an outstanding batman but the difference between him(even though he too is a very hard worker) and Virat is - Rohit doesn't possess that kind of ruthless mentality and willing to do anything to be perfect attitude. Virat now trained himself in such a position that he can train hard in gym even after scoring a hundred in one of days in a test match so that he can turned that into a double hundreds. That is what we called sports endurance in gym. Being a gym freak, let me tell you, anyone can be like that, but no one can teach you that Virat kholi type of attitude. You should be able push yourself in the correct manner to have that.

This is athletical body building :

You can follow UFC light weight fighter Jose Aldo's training and diet.

If you want to be someone like Aldo then diet is very important, in fact in some cases more important than what you are doing in gym. So I am giving the diet that Aldo follows (remember what works for him may not work for you perfectly because every person's requirement and metabolism is different and diet should be according to that, so this is a good example to follow and as you know more about your body, you can decide what works best for you or you can consult with a dietician, you can choose not to follow this)

Breakfast at 8.30am: 2 pieces of toast and a cup of coffee with milk.

At 10.30am: half of a cereal bar.

At 2pm: lunch is salad, chicken or fish.

At 6pm: other half of cereal bar.

At 9pm: salad with chicken or fish.

Goes to bed at 11pm.

Work out :

12 burpees with medicine ball.

2. 12 pull up

3. 12 body excess weight shoulder press

4. 12 reverse rows.

5. 12 single leg squats (each and every leg).

6. 20 push up.

7. 30 seconds planks (elbows).

8. 30 seconds planks (top of the push up placement).

9. Three 10 seconds sprints with 32 seconds rest in between.

Other than the 9th one, every workout has to be done without the rest. Total 9 workouts are called 1st circuit. Relaxation for 1 minute and then repeat the next circuit other than only doing 11 reps for the 1st five physical workouts.

Give the MMA workout program a try out and see if you can beat Jose Aldo's time of significantly less than 35 minutes. Good luck.

This is how basically an athlete trains himself in gym.

Now notice this following picture and practice every cricket shots(orthodox or unorthodox) using that resistance bands(you can find it online)

Now follow these cricket hitting strength training videos -

https://youtu.be/49ID0uwq-D0

This video is about Baseball but it works for cricket too perfectly.

https://youtu.be/Ub7i-30vk0Y

This is a renowned baseball player who knows a thing or two about hitting, just remove everything that is associated with baseball and soak everything that is perfect for cricket because baseball and cricket are very similar except a few things.

https://youtu.be/Vyu_s4sOokQ

This guy is also renowned for giving strength hitting tips for baseball and again get rid of the baseball part and soak everything else, he has some valuable tips about what you(a cricketer) should be doing in order to be better at hitting and over all fitness, don't ignore anything, everything is valuable here.

https://youtu.be/Bx2tZfg_muA

https://youtu.be/ym1j4mzhTYo

These guys are more general but follow their tips too.

https://youtu.be/WLx5q7M741k

Last but not the least, this is absolutely top level athletic workout, this is excellent for your core.

3 Love

Are bodyweight exercises better than going to the gym and lifting weights?

Okay let's cut some bullshit.

Yes, body weight exercise more beneficial for muscle growth.

When one doing bodyweight exercises then all of his muscles works extra vigilantly to activate as a result better muscle growth.

But let's get one thing straight I have heard a lot of bullshit like why are you going to the gym and lifting weights when you can do bodyweight exercises

This is absolutely bullshit

Why?

Because most people when they began can't even do one single push up and forget about pull up or dips

So how can they do one bodyweight exercise?

Let's break one myth here lifting random weight is way easier than bodyweight exercises for a beginner

Let's say you are a beginner and you are lifting 20 kg at the first attempt, you are very proud of yourself, aren't you?

Well, try doing bodyweight exercises

If you are a skinny guy with 50–60 kg weight

When you're doing pushups you are lifting at least 60% of your body weight which means approximately 40–50 kg

So no wonder you might find it difficult

Unless you are strong enough to do that which is possible for a skinny guy

But not everyone is skinny

I mean most people probably weight more than 80kg when they first started going to the gym

Which means when they try to do push up they are lifting at least 50–60–70 kg approximately

Yeah, sounds difficult for a newbie, isn't it?

Which is why bench press or lifting random weight can be easier here

And trainers generally ask you to do traditional gym lifting exercise

Get stronger doing those first

At least target lifting 70–80% of your bodyweight and then jump back to these bodyweight exercises.

You will find them so so easy.

If you are being able to do these bodyweight exercises from the beginning then by all means do that.

Nothing is better than that

You can challenge yourself later by adding stuff like weight belt etc for getting stronger and bigger

You can do every exercise in home as well

Provided you know how to do that

Going to the gym isn't important here

Do you know stuff?

This is more important

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5 Love