Redbeard
05-16-2003, 08:13 PM
Much as the peasant boy would stare up at Knights of Honor gleaming in the sunlight with their shining shimmering armour has a young lad in the present day stared into the glistening sparkle of his television set watching spandex clad warriors grappling it out in the four cornered ring.
It wasn't so much the entertainment of watching these brute looking goliaths stomp around the ring, but it was just their sheer size, and how the crowd would react to every flex, every pose and every special move that they had which created a wonderlust in him that would be planted deep, and begin to blossom many years after he had witnessed his last exhibition.
As tall and lanky boy at 6"2' and 148 lbs who resembled more like a twig than anything he gets his first taste of iron, working out one time for the mandatory gym day in P.E. class he had a chance to feel the pain that came from lifting the iron grail.
I can do this, he thought to himself, I can make it. He immediatly began researching all of the great pro's who came before him, from Arnold to Weider, from Flex to Mind & Muscle, learning as much as he could about the sciences behind gaining muscle mass and strengths, the difference between bodybuilding and powerlifting. How to plan a diet and what vitamins cause what reaction to your body. After spending a year on this endevear he decided it was time.
Being of poor persuasion all he could afford (and lift) at the beginning were a pair of 15 lb dumbells, he purchased these and sat down over the course of a weekend setting up a six week novice cycle that would utilize these to the best of their ability for a total body workout.
The first couple weeks went poorly, his diet was ill-planned and his form was attrocious but slowly, time after time he began slowly noticing that his body became more firm, though he was not gaining mass he was becoming solid, as his form improved so did his feeling that he had completed a satisfactory workout.
Saving up as much as he could, after a month he purchased a pair of 20 lb dumbells and became even more creative with his ideas, even going so far as to rig up a makeshift benchpress using an old mop-handle and twine to hold his 70 pounds of weight on the stick. By this time he was seeing slight gains in size, perhaps 1/4 inch on all his measurements and a couple extra pounds. After every exercise he would analyze the whole routine, now planning his cycles only two weeks at a time to allow for quick adaptations. He quickly came to the conclusion that he simply needed more money. He knew deep down that these makeshift dumbell exercises were beginning to reach the peak of their usefullness and his diet was unable to support any more growth. This was the crossroads for our squire, He had only wanted to see if he could gain any muscle at all if he had a good plan, he had no intentions of going any further than this.
That was at the beginning though, now he was addicted, if he stopped more for than two days he would become jittery, antsy and unable to focus on anything except his next session, he would look for it with the same hunger in his eyes that leads a heroin addict to his next needle. He not only wanted it, he needed it. Problem is, he could barely afford more than ramen noodles, much less the equipment needed to go for the goals he began quietly setting in the back of his mind.
So he has an important choice to make, because in his whole life he never gave less than 100%, if he was going to continue he'd have to give it his all or nothing at all.
While he was still mulling the decision over in his head, an opportunity of a lifetime had fallen in his lap, a new job which paid over twice as much as his previous one, it was doing shiftwork at a local newspaper, it was a simple operators job, making sure all the equipment was well lubricated and running smoothly, he was brought up to have great respect for his elders so it was with no surprise that he got along great with the group of men known throughout the company as the Old Man Crew. They were all within two years of retiring and had been with the company since it had opened up, they were a bit of outcasts as far as the departments go, they were all put together on the same shift because they couldn't get along with anyone besides themselves.
Having their own set of rules to live by, when you walked inside their office you were impressed with all of the projects they had laying out to be fixed, every wall lined with cabinets full of equipment and the tables were all covered with blue-prints that held the roadmap to the newspapers very life. They appeared to be a very serious group of men, and indeed they were until it was time for lunch. Suddenly as quick as you could blink an eye pots and pans came out from every corner of the shop, the blueprints were not only laminated to protect the ink but they also served as placematts when flipped over. It was steak or porkhops every night, baked potatoes corn green beans anything you wanted. Now he knew why the old man crew were such a portly group of guys.
He would smell their cooking float to his little corner from down the hall wedged in between the bathrooms and the water fountain as he quietly ate a cup of oatmeal, one day the lead man for the OMC came to the water fountain to get some water to make tea with and remarked to the boy, 'What are you eating? That some kind of Mr. Ed diet? Put that oat bag up and come with me boy!'. In return for scrubbing their dishes, he was allowed to eat with them for free and it wasn't long at all before he began a steady increase in weight, it was going to his stomach quicker than his muscles and everyone laughed as the little twig boy ran around with a baby potbelly, he looked like a pregnant straw.
He noticed this too, and said to himself 'now it is time'. With the extra money he was making he joined a gym, after haggling hard with the salesmen he got a low rate that he could afford and even recieved a month free with a personal trainer. By this time he had filled out to a solid 190 but still not where he wanted to be. His goal is to enter in a bodybuilding contest at a hard 240, He figured he was a year away with a lot of hard work, 18 months if he played with it, but a new problem rises now. After spending a month with a trainer he realizes just how much he needs someone to be there to push him for that extra set, or the extra five pounds of weight. The problem is these trainers aren't cheap and sponsorship isn't easy to come by without any contest place awards. So now our squire turns to those who have gone before him, and who have been in his shoes for guidance, and wisdom. What options does he have for attaining his goal? How can he find supporters who understand his drive, his level of devotion and his need to be out on that stage, controlling the crowd with his every movement and hearing them cheer for his as he realizes his day has finally arrived, it's his turn to be number one and his turn to inspire the next Squire, staring hypnotically into that glistening glimmering tv saying "I can do that".
It wasn't so much the entertainment of watching these brute looking goliaths stomp around the ring, but it was just their sheer size, and how the crowd would react to every flex, every pose and every special move that they had which created a wonderlust in him that would be planted deep, and begin to blossom many years after he had witnessed his last exhibition.
As tall and lanky boy at 6"2' and 148 lbs who resembled more like a twig than anything he gets his first taste of iron, working out one time for the mandatory gym day in P.E. class he had a chance to feel the pain that came from lifting the iron grail.
I can do this, he thought to himself, I can make it. He immediatly began researching all of the great pro's who came before him, from Arnold to Weider, from Flex to Mind & Muscle, learning as much as he could about the sciences behind gaining muscle mass and strengths, the difference between bodybuilding and powerlifting. How to plan a diet and what vitamins cause what reaction to your body. After spending a year on this endevear he decided it was time.
Being of poor persuasion all he could afford (and lift) at the beginning were a pair of 15 lb dumbells, he purchased these and sat down over the course of a weekend setting up a six week novice cycle that would utilize these to the best of their ability for a total body workout.
The first couple weeks went poorly, his diet was ill-planned and his form was attrocious but slowly, time after time he began slowly noticing that his body became more firm, though he was not gaining mass he was becoming solid, as his form improved so did his feeling that he had completed a satisfactory workout.
Saving up as much as he could, after a month he purchased a pair of 20 lb dumbells and became even more creative with his ideas, even going so far as to rig up a makeshift benchpress using an old mop-handle and twine to hold his 70 pounds of weight on the stick. By this time he was seeing slight gains in size, perhaps 1/4 inch on all his measurements and a couple extra pounds. After every exercise he would analyze the whole routine, now planning his cycles only two weeks at a time to allow for quick adaptations. He quickly came to the conclusion that he simply needed more money. He knew deep down that these makeshift dumbell exercises were beginning to reach the peak of their usefullness and his diet was unable to support any more growth. This was the crossroads for our squire, He had only wanted to see if he could gain any muscle at all if he had a good plan, he had no intentions of going any further than this.
That was at the beginning though, now he was addicted, if he stopped more for than two days he would become jittery, antsy and unable to focus on anything except his next session, he would look for it with the same hunger in his eyes that leads a heroin addict to his next needle. He not only wanted it, he needed it. Problem is, he could barely afford more than ramen noodles, much less the equipment needed to go for the goals he began quietly setting in the back of his mind.
So he has an important choice to make, because in his whole life he never gave less than 100%, if he was going to continue he'd have to give it his all or nothing at all.
While he was still mulling the decision over in his head, an opportunity of a lifetime had fallen in his lap, a new job which paid over twice as much as his previous one, it was doing shiftwork at a local newspaper, it was a simple operators job, making sure all the equipment was well lubricated and running smoothly, he was brought up to have great respect for his elders so it was with no surprise that he got along great with the group of men known throughout the company as the Old Man Crew. They were all within two years of retiring and had been with the company since it had opened up, they were a bit of outcasts as far as the departments go, they were all put together on the same shift because they couldn't get along with anyone besides themselves.
Having their own set of rules to live by, when you walked inside their office you were impressed with all of the projects they had laying out to be fixed, every wall lined with cabinets full of equipment and the tables were all covered with blue-prints that held the roadmap to the newspapers very life. They appeared to be a very serious group of men, and indeed they were until it was time for lunch. Suddenly as quick as you could blink an eye pots and pans came out from every corner of the shop, the blueprints were not only laminated to protect the ink but they also served as placematts when flipped over. It was steak or porkhops every night, baked potatoes corn green beans anything you wanted. Now he knew why the old man crew were such a portly group of guys.
He would smell their cooking float to his little corner from down the hall wedged in between the bathrooms and the water fountain as he quietly ate a cup of oatmeal, one day the lead man for the OMC came to the water fountain to get some water to make tea with and remarked to the boy, 'What are you eating? That some kind of Mr. Ed diet? Put that oat bag up and come with me boy!'. In return for scrubbing their dishes, he was allowed to eat with them for free and it wasn't long at all before he began a steady increase in weight, it was going to his stomach quicker than his muscles and everyone laughed as the little twig boy ran around with a baby potbelly, he looked like a pregnant straw.
He noticed this too, and said to himself 'now it is time'. With the extra money he was making he joined a gym, after haggling hard with the salesmen he got a low rate that he could afford and even recieved a month free with a personal trainer. By this time he had filled out to a solid 190 but still not where he wanted to be. His goal is to enter in a bodybuilding contest at a hard 240, He figured he was a year away with a lot of hard work, 18 months if he played with it, but a new problem rises now. After spending a month with a trainer he realizes just how much he needs someone to be there to push him for that extra set, or the extra five pounds of weight. The problem is these trainers aren't cheap and sponsorship isn't easy to come by without any contest place awards. So now our squire turns to those who have gone before him, and who have been in his shoes for guidance, and wisdom. What options does he have for attaining his goal? How can he find supporters who understand his drive, his level of devotion and his need to be out on that stage, controlling the crowd with his every movement and hearing them cheer for his as he realizes his day has finally arrived, it's his turn to be number one and his turn to inspire the next Squire, staring hypnotically into that glistening glimmering tv saying "I can do that".