Tales from the Fitness Factory

[ArchAngel'73]

The begining (part 1)

I was 17, and today was going to be amazing.
I was about to graduate from the cement filled weight set in my basement to a real hardcore gym. After 2 years blasting away, reading Weider's books and mags, fresh from the video rental store after returning Arnold's "Pumping Iron", I was going to get a gym membership by dammit!

I was finishing up high school, taking classes in the morning, and working at night. Killing time before university started.
My first paycheque came in and I was set.

I got off the bus and practically ran to the gym, called "Golden Health and Fitness", formally "Gold's". A stocky guy who was all covered up in a T-Michael shirt looked after my membership. I even got the student discount and would until I left university.
I didn't even look around or train that day. I just knew I needed to join that very day. This was a Friday, I would start Monday. I got my card and left for home.

Monday roles around. I get to the gym around 3PM and to my amazement the place is CLOSED!!!
There are people inside doing work, and the sign says it will re-open Wednesday.
I was not a happy camper. As I was about to leave, a young lady invites me in and calls out for one of the guys to come see me.
Long story short, the gym has a new owner. They are doing some reno's now, and will re-open Wednesday.
"Bigger and better."
but of course, that's what they all said at the time.

PO'd, I went home to my plastic weights.
Wednesday it would have to be...

[NotTooLate]

Your breakin' my heart here! lol Poor kid had to wait 'till Wed! I hope you paid your membership fee to the owners of the NEW gym and not the one that closed the day before lol

Cute story I like it

[ArchAngel'73]

Wednesday, at last!!

Same deal, off the bus, ran to the gym.
It was open, surely a good sign.

More reno's were going on. A salesclerk tried to re-sell me my membership, I explained the circumstances and she went to get the owner.
Kevin, the new owner of "The Fitness Factory", was the first bodybuilder I've ever seen in real life. He was not huge, but had very chiseled features and I could tell he was popular with the ladies. What I remember most is how muscled his throat was when talking.
At the end of his sales speech, I ended up happy with my membership, once again. Then he suggested we should get together for a workout one day. I would take him up on his offer later on and never regret it.

But today, today was legs. I loved training legs.
He told me where the leg pit and change rooms were, and off I went.

On my way to the change room I saw a stocky asian fellow leg pressing 14 45 plates, per side!!! A quick mental assessment whether I should run out or get changed occured. I got changed and ready to go in the same room as that monster.

I walked in that coveted leg room, only to almost jump out of my gym shorts. Crazy Mark as we would later call him, had almost killed himself re-racking the barbell after squatting. He had 495 on there and the new renos had left the squat cage un bolted to the floor.
He was calling Kevin every name in the book after making the Herculaen effort to actually carry the weight on his shoulders to another squat rack after his had fallen over!

The leg press monster, aptly named "King Lao", looked at me, knodded, looked at crazy Mark screaming at Kevin and laughed.

I was too scared to squat that day. I tried these nifty leg press thingys and the extensions. I had to get someone to show me where the hamstring curl was as I had no idea what they looked like in a commercial gym.
The standing calf raise machine was the best invention ever in my opinion.

When I was done, I hobbled into the next pit area, where all the free weights and machines were.
My future best friend Kevin was working on his new flooring after being yelled at by crazy Mark. Crazy Mark had flown out of the gym in a fury after his mishap. Good thing too, as he was huge.
The walking dead man, King Lao sat on a bench, huffing and puffing while re-wrapping his knee wraps. A heart attack waiting to happen.

And there were so many others.
All of whom I would eventually call my friends, my mentors, my good and bad influences, all were characters. Most of all, they were to become my brothers and sisters in Iron.

"Moose", Igor, "the nazi loan shark", Kevin, "lil' kid", "b-ball" Sean, "crazy" Mark, "wannabe" Trev, Al, and "dumb ass" Yanci were all members I shared too much time in the gym with.
They all reinforced one belief I have come to have.
Bodybuilding is full of weirdos.





I'm here to tell you about some of them.
and the kind of mental patients I learned to train from in the 90's.
I've stored this stuff up for over a decade, its time to let the insanity be known for what it was.

[ArchAngel'73]

The gym was in full operation and had been opened for a few months. I had a regular routine in the morning and learned what the term "a gym regular" was. I am happy to say by then, I was one.

The two guys that caught my attention the most were Moose and Igor. Moose was a good 6'5" and Igor was about an inch shorter. Both were over 300 lbs and built like brick houses.
They would yell and scream at one another during their workouts, call each other names, all while in the other's face.
They were, without a doubt, the Barbarian brothers of the Fitness Factory. When the leg press was full of plates and they wanted more weight, the other would sit on it and yell.
405-495 was done routinely on the flat bench, for reps.

It happened to be chest day for me too, my weakest bodypart. I was breaking a personal best that day with 135 lbs. Whatever rep I was at, I failed and couldn't get it off my chest. The collars on, I couldn't exactly dump the weight either. I needed help, and fast.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Moose going to the water fountain.
"Help!" -I managed a whisper
he didn't hear me
AFTER they did their next set, Moose noticed my prediciment. I was almost purple.
He hauled that thing off me like it was 2 lbs, looked down and said
"You need to work on your bench."
"Uh, gee, thanks sir. I was trying."

Moose and I met up every chest day for a month.
He helped me take my weak flat bench from 135 for 6 reps to 315 for 1 rep in 1 month through negatives alone. He would lift it, I would lower it and take 10 sec or more doing it.

I will never forget this act of kindness and teaching.

Moose and I ended up training together a year or so later. When Kevin bought the new back machines, Moose and I could already row the stack. So we started standing on them for more weight. That was fun!
Until Kevin saw us one day and threatened to kick us out (boy he was mad we were playing with his $5000 machine).
Moose put me and the stack down, and told Kevin to shove it. Moose pulled out his wallet and started peeling thousand dollar bills from a money clip.
"If I buy this machine right now, will you STFU Kevin?"

I almost crapped my pants, again. Here's my friend, telling my best friend, to shove it, and there's $5000 being waved in the air. Kevin left us alone, we didn't stand on his new back machine anymore. Whew!

Post training steak and eggs was Moose's tradition, at a greasy truck stop nonetheless. I learned a lot during those artery clogging meals.

#1 Moose had done some prison time. Turns out, he was one of the larger narcotics dealers in my city back in the day. He told me he was clean now, as he had a family.
"Back in my day, when a guy had beef with you, he came after you. Now, they come after everyone one around you but you."
I chose to believe him.

#2 Moose was clever and rich becasue of it. He had legally hidden his earned monies from that time and had set up some legit side businesses that were doing well.

#3 Moose's wife was a stunner, and she would leave if he ever screwed up again. I believed my friend had the capacity to kill if needed, but around her, I've never seen more of a gentleman.
To my knowledge, he is still married with 3 kids, no more felonies.


Moose was one of the strongest mo fo's I've ever seen walk the face of this Earth. He helped me with my bench, showed me his friendship when others wouldn't talk to me, and gave me hope that people can change for the better.



Igor
well, Igor is a whole post unto himself. I'll get to the story of his deportation and expulsion from Canada in another post.

[Tifflex]

Excellent stories Brian, thanks for sharing! I can't wait to read more...

[ArchAngel'73]

Your breakin' my heart here! lol Poor kid had to wait 'till Wed! I hope you paid your membership fee to the owners of the NEW gym and not the one that closed the day before lol

Cute story I like it

It all worked out in the end. They honoured my 3 month membership and we tacked on 9 months for only $20 per month.
There's more.

Excellent stories Brian, thanks for sharing! I can't wait to read more...

Good to hear! I'll keep this thread full of 'em until I'm done with that era. This was a crazy time, too crazy for me to make it up.
Some of my current clients possess more sanity then my former gym mates. LOL

[IR45N]

Good reads. Keep them coming. Sounds like the Baldsnake era though if I'm doin' the math; '91. Seems I remember driving to a gym to check it out only to have it closed & windows tinted so couldn't see the equipment. Arrrrghhh!

Congrats on what 17 years of lifting have given you!

[ectoBgone]

This is great!

[Braindrop]

Good stuff.

[CYLON RAIDER]

This is GREAT! I started at the local gym at about the same age as you.
IRON MASTERS it's called. Same atmosphere as you're writing about with its own cast of characters who would take a new skinny or fat guy under their wings and soon you'd be part of that cast with a nickname and everything and much better and stronger than when you started. Aaaaaaah memories!
I REALLY think the places mostly of today are really missing out on something.

[djflex]

Great stories, looking forward to updates....

[Skidmarx]

Cool stuff

[unimoose]

That was a great read, can't wait to read and laugh about the rest!

[IronIc]

Thanks for the great stories Brian .. they kinda remind me of my college days Alot of characters!

[Stenn]

I'm subscribed and eagerly awaiting the next chapter. Good stuff!

[ArchAngel'73]

Good reads. Keep them coming. Sounds like the Baldsnake era though if I'm doin' the math; '91. Seems I remember driving to a gym to check it out only to have it closed & windows tinted so couldn't see the equipment. Arrrrghhh!

Congrats on what 17 years of lifting have given you!

Baldie is both my better and my senior. I was a few years behind him during his days in the 80's. But, he guys I trained with lived through that time as well.
Including the 2 years at home, it will be 19 yrs very soon. Thank-you.

This is GREAT! I started at the local gym at about the same age as you.
IRON MASTERS it's called. Same atmosphere as you're writing about with its own cast of characters who would take a new skinny or fat guy under their wings and soon you'd be part of that cast with a nickname and everything and much better and stronger than when you started. Aaaaaaah memories!
I REALLY think the places mostly of today are really missing out on something.

Today's places would not tolerate some the the gym characters that they did in the past. If I recall, most gym's were owned by old competitive powerlifters or bodybuilders then.
The sanitized chain gym has forever changed the "soul" of what is offered today.

This is great!

Good stuff.

Great stories, looking forward to updates....

Cool stuff

That was a great read, can't wait to read and laugh about the rest!

Thanks for the great stories Brian .. they kinda remind me of my college days Alot of characters!

I'm subscribed and eagerly awaiting the next chapter. Good stuff!

Thank-you all!

I'll keep writing as long as I can about this place, or until interest is lost in reading.

[ArchAngel'73]

I make no excuses, Igor scared me.

He was a huge Czechoslovakian, sent to Canada by his wealthy father to avoid mandatory consrciption in the army there. or so he told me.
When I first met Igor, he was yelling at Moose to get his act together or to go home, while they were incline benching with 4 plates per side.
Igor was a madman in the gym. If it didn't have 400 lbs on it, it was too light. He hated training legs, but did them grudgingly. Leg days were the worst to be around him in the gym. He talked loud, and procrastinated doing his work by talking. All we could hear was this big Czech yammer jammering 1,000 miles a minute, with a few f and s words thrown in.
Then a pig puff as he lifted the squat bar, and nothing but "geezus on a crutch I ****in' hate you" every single rep.

Igor started talking to me after Moose saved me during my bench mishap. I think he took pity on his younger iron brother and started talking to me every time I came in.
The trouble was, Igor had some silver teeth and a bad accent, except for when he was swearing I couldn't figure out what the hell the guy was saying.

Igor dissapeared for a few months, Moose and I trained together. Moose got to telling me that I should probably stay away from Igor when and if he came back.
I then learned Igor had a number of charges in Canada, all dealing with performance enhancing substance distribution. He was rather large in the scale of his operation and had attracted some attention he didn't want.

Igor came back to us eventually, and bigger then ever. He had beat the investigation and was happy to be back home, going back to Czechoslovakia as things cooled down.
Moose had blown out my elbow with his crazy negative only benching routine, and I refused to train with him any more. The day after Igor came back, the two of them were back at it with the morning workouts.
We had good times training around each other.
In between sets, Igor always told the gym (his voice was that loud) about his previous night's stripper conquests. If we were unlucky, he would recant some of the most piggish things I've ever heard, all in the middle of someone's set. You were either A)too disgusted to continue or B)laughing so hard you had to stop lifting.
He enjoyed farting when he spotted on bench, a real class act.
Igor also liked to use DMSO. For those not in the know, DMSO is/was a topical agent made from the bark of some tree. It was meant for joint pain relief, but also had a niffty little side effect as it was a transdermal agent. Took anything on the skin into the system. He liked to crunch up his ephedrine and smear it on with the DMSO.
The DMSO also stank like rotting garlic on a corpse.
He loved it, we didn't. I thanked God the day he discovered Tiger Balm.

I was waiting for the bus one day at my work, heading to the gym. All of a sudden Igor pulls up in a grey Camino. He offered to take me to the gym, he was going to. But first, we had to make a stop at Pinky's, the club where his girlfriend danced. I was looking at an hour bus ride, so I said yes.
We arrived at the club, he came back to the car about 10 min later, grabbed a tissue and started wiping the blood from his knuckles.
He looked at me with the big stupid silver toothed grin and spoke in that barely decypherable English
"I has problem. It need fixink, I fix."
I got the story as we drove to the gym. His girlfriend had cheated on him, with the club's owner. He went in to settle the score with the owner and dump his girlfriend. The blood was the owner's.

Igor later offerred me one other ride while I was at a bus stop. I politely declined.

About 3 years ago, I bumped into Igor at a chain gym I was visiting with my friend. The silver teeth were gone, he was puffy and looked old, a testimony to his lifestyle.
He had been deported, twice, all over his former business dealings and was here for his last hearing. He still creeped me out, even though I had by now surpassed whatever physique he had left.
Last time I saw Igor, he was benching 135 for a few reps, looking as if he was barely clinging to life.

I saw it as clear 3 years ago as I did over a decade with him, he was just someone I did not want to be like nor around. All time did was prove me right.

Igor and Moose were alike on many factors. The difference is, is that Moose learned his lesson and got out when he could, he did the crime and paid his time.
Igor thought he was invincible and kept asking for more, even after he was caught, he ended up doing the same thing, over and over.
That's my definition of insanity.

[Braindrop]

When I was lifting in the 80s, my favorite gym character was Chuck. Chuck had a number of unorthodox training methods, but my favorite was the wall slam. There was a basketball halfcourt in the back of the gym that had padded walls behind the basket (presumably to keep wannabe Dr. J's from slamming into concrete after missing a dunk at full speed).

We had a decent set of barbells with the weight welded on in various sizes. Chuck would put the barbell on the floor in front of the pads, then with an angry yell, in one movement, yank it off the ground up to face level and then shoot his arms out, slamming it as hard as he could into the pads. Over and over.

When you asked him about this, he would explain that it trained the muscles used to grab someone by the lapels of their jacket, rip them off the ground and slam them into a wall...

[Whiskeyjack]

I respect what you're doing here. Good stuff. I tried something similar with my "Local Legends Thread" which didn't get much feedback so I gave it up. Keep it up.

[ArchAngel'73]

When I was lifting in the 80s, my favorite gym character was Chuck. Chuck had a number of unorthodox training methods, but my favorite was the wall slam. There was a basketball halfcourt in the back of the gym that had padded walls behind the basket (presumably to keep wannabe Dr. J's from slamming into concrete after missing a dunk at full speed).

We had a decent set of barbells with the weight welded on in various sizes. Chuck would put the barbell on the floor in front of the pads, then with an angry yell, in one movement, yank it off the ground up to face level and then shoot his arms out, slamming it as hard as he could into the pads. Over and over.

When you asked him about this, he would explain that it trained the muscles used to grab someone by the lapels of their jacket, rip them off the ground and slam them into a wall...

Chuck sounds crazy! But I guess it worked for him.
I train at a boxing/mma club now, they do the some thing but with a heavy bag. Perhaps it had merit if throwing people is your thing.
Thanks!

I respect what you're doing here. Good stuff. I tried something similar with my "Local Legends Thread" which didn't get much feedback so I gave it up. Keep it up.

I don't really know what I'm doing.
Just trying to share a time when I learned the ins and outs of bodybuilding. Perhaps others will be enlightened, entertained, or energized.
Thank-you for reading. more coming up...

[ArchAngel'73]

I had been at the 'Factory for a few months and was doing very well for myself in terms of getting stronger and more muscular.
My morning gym mates had helped me as best as they could, but many of them just didn't know how to train legs. It was still a trend at the time (and still is), every body wanted a big chest and arms to match.
Always the rebel, I wanted tree trunks for legs to stand out from the crowd.

I went to the front desk one morning when Kevin was there and said I was having trouble getting my hamstrings sore (we gauged that as a marker of the previous work outs' effectiveness).
He smiled at me and said "I think its time for that work out I offered you."
We made arrangements to meet the next day.

A few years before this, Kevin had placed 2nd in the jr. Mr. Canada's. He was a phenom at the time. He had won all three shows he had entered and his 4th show brought him to 2nd in the country for his age group.
His weakness before these shows was lack of leg development. It was now a strong a point, and it sure wasn't due to genetics.

That day that would break open any training barriers I had and then some.

We started with squats. He kept a pretty brisk pace in the gym but I made sure to match him every set at the least. I'll never forget, we did 5 sets. We used the same weight and I beat his reps on sets 3 and 4. My ego was getting large, too large. I was keeping up with "Mr. 2nd place jr. Canada" and then some.
"What's next?" I asked with a cocky grin.
"A tri-set."
I had no idea what that was so I asked.
"We're going to do the leg press, hack squats, and then the leg extension right after the other, no rest. I'll go first."
The sounds this man proceeded to make made me want to run to the locker room in fear of my upcoming sets. He moaned and gurgled as if on his death bed, the vein in his throat jutted out and I thought it would explode. He would move like lightening from one machine to the next.
My first set came and I did really well, winded yes, but I matched every rep he made.
The 2nd round was brutal, he started with the forced reps at the end of each exercise. After leg extensions, I lay on the floor and cursed him. I could care less if I beat him by now, I wanted it to end.
The 3rd set was my introduction to a whole new level of pain. The ache, the fire in my legs, the burning in my lungs, nothing else mattered in my brain except the pain I was going through. He DEMANDED forced reps, I pounded them out. Then negatives, then he dropped the weight and we did more forced reps and negatives.
I went to leap out of the leg extension machine and when I landed, I couldn't stay upright. My quads were jello, unable to support me. Period.
Hello gravity.

I lay in a pool of sweat right in front of the extension, moaning, gasping for air, and holding my aching quads.
"C'mon, its time for hams." he says.

Its straight up sets this time, with some forced ones at the end. But the forced reps kill me and after 2 sets I'm done.
But he plans on doing 5 sets.
I manage to squeeze out a few more, but they are weak and I know it. I still hear him yelling at me to "touch my a$$" with the hamstring pad.

Next, he teaches me something different.
We go back to the leg press (I started to freak inside). He says we are doing calf raises with it. The reasoning, you can put more weight on the leg press then on any calf machine. More weight = more muscle.
To this day, I prefer my calf raises on the leg press. We crank out 5 sets, my calves now cramp as much as my quads and hams.

Then he jumps on the stationary bike and expects me to do cardio.
What can ya say when "Mr. 2nd place jr. Canada" has just whupped your butt. I did cardio at the gym for the first time ever.

As I was on the bus going home, I got a funny feeling in my stomach. I rang the bell and got off at the next stop, and proceeded to hurl.
I had only read about this phenomenon in bodybuilding mags and Arnold's book.
I was tickled pink as I smiled with my puke face.
I had thrown up because I had trained so hard!
I was so happy and proud, I wanted to tell everyone, but knew they would all think I was nuts!

When the DOMS hit, it hit hard. 7 days of pain as I recall.
The first day was numbness, complete numbness.
I was immobile for 3 whole days, and limping the rest. Bowl movements were dreaded.

I learned much that day.
One was how to "psycho-train", as I call it.
The second was to never tell Kevin my hams weren't sore from my workouts.

[CapitalJay]

Awesome stuff, Freak Show. I'd rep you again if I could....

[ArchAngel'73]

I can't remember how long I trained with Kevin the first time for. The workouts were so intense I remember them vividly though.
Kevin had a motto in the gym; "The most amount of work in the least amount of time".
As such, he was a proponent of super sets, giant sets, and compound sets.
I re-named his motto to be "The most amount of pain in the least amount of time".

For shoulders he first liked to do 5 sets of a pressing movement, usually dumbells.
Then the hell began.
DB raises to the side, front, and back, all seated, and tri-setted. 4 sets, my God did those burn. Leg pain I could take, searing delts of fire was a different story.
Then we finished off by running the rack with side DB raises.

Starting at the 25's (oh, so long ago ha ha), going to failure plus a few forced reps, then dropping the weight by 5 pounds and doing it all over again.
I thought we were safe when we ran out of DB's, but no, not Kevin. We stood there looking like idiots and did side raises with our hands empty. Previous to this, I never would have thought so much burning could be caused with one exercise.
We finished off with some heavy BB shrugs and went on the bike.

It quickly became apparant to me why Kevin had won damn near every show he entered.
He outworked his competition.
He may not have been the biggest guy to grace the stage or set foot in his gym, but he could out work every one of them and us.

He was demanding as a training partner!
"Your training partner's workout has to be as important as your workout is to you" he told me before we started.
The spots had to be at the right time with the right amount of effort. The spotter should aim to keep the momentum and tempo of the lifter while not allieviating too much of the burden.
If you screwed up, you got yelled at. There was no time for mistakes in spotting, you did it right or you trained by yourself.

One arm day, we did EZ bar skullcrushers. (the other name for this exercise at the time was the French Press. This term was not allowed at the 'Factory).
I had never done this exercise before and was leary spotting him.
I quickly found out that it was aptly named.
I was spotting, Kevin failed, I didn't catch the bar in time and it hit his forehead!
When he woke up, he wasn't even mad!

I was scared when he woke up, and he knew it. He told me it was all right, patted me on the back and went to the change room. The workout was done for the day, but I had learned some invaluable lessons.
When you're spotting someone, stay with the bar. You never know when or if its going to slip.

Kevin and I trained for months together. Almost everything in the gym, he taught me, and then some. During this time I fostered an excellent friendship with him, met his family, his girlfriend(s), partied with him (I turned 18, the legal drinking age in Canada), and helped him run his business.
In no uncertain terms, I thought of Kevin as my brother.

We had to go our seperate training ways for about a year due to his business.
We still hung out and he watched over my training.

When bodybuilding comptition training time came, I was honoured when he asked me to be his training partner for that year's Alberta's.
Life as I knew it was about to change even further...

[ArchAngel'73]

Awesome stuff, Freak Show. I'd rep you again if I could....

no need
I'm just happy to get this out and peeps are still reading/enjoying it.

[justtryn]

This is great stuff, Brian! Wish I'd had someone like that when I started training at a gym!

[jtroster]

Brian,

This is much better than the "Journey" posted on the Animal site.

[claycat]

Oh man Brian, I was looking for page 2. Love it........

[Olie]

Great stories man, you are a gifted writer. Keep'em coming.....

[NorCal930]

This is a great read! Made me smile as I was reading and I agree with the other poster (Olie), you are a gifted writer.

[IronIc]

X3 on the gifted writer part. You bring us right there, where you were, 20 or so years ago. Great, great stuff.

So when's the book coming out?