I WROTE THIS WHOLE STORY JUST NOW, NO COPYPASTA SH|T
So, today at the gym I came in around noon. It wasn't too busy, but it wasn't empty either. It was back day. As I was getting warmed up, I look around to size up the competition. There were maybe 30-40 male lifters in the gym, 4 or 5 of whom were definitively bigger than me. The rest were smaller. Now, rare is the day when I'm not among the top 3 in my gym, probably because I tend to come in around the time all the HS kids get out.
I was, however, not dissuaded from my workout based on the presence of the 4 or 5 other guys. In fact, I became encouraged to kick ass. I was pumped up to show all of them up, because of my beastly and ungodly strength and aesthetics (3 of the guys were also a hell of a lot fatter than me). I'm warming up, stretching out my shoulders and lats, doing all sorts of dynamic movements that demand attention from the other gym-goers. I stand in the middle of the highest traffic area and start to whirl my arms around in large circles, causing blood to flow through my limbs and into my joints. All the meanwhile, I'm causing people to walk widely around me, most of them squeezing against all the equipment that's near my sides.
Now, I still had my jacket on in which I entered the gym with. I sense that the end of my warm-up is drawing near, and I start contemplating which exercise I should start with. Most days I'd do fifty to five hundred pullups at the beginning, but today my neck was a bit sore and I didn't want to aggravate it.
My eyes are scanning the surroundings, and finally come to rest on this machine:
I see that it's empty, but that some douche left his weights on it. I take a step towards the machine -- and see movement from the corner of my eye, an indistinctive blur of red moving towards my machine. I refocus, and realize that it's one of those 4 or 5 bigger-than-me lifters power walking towards the machine I was going to use! And he's wearing some flimsy gay-as-sh*t bright red wifebeater. As I watch him get ready to use the machine, it dawns on me that no, nobody left weights on -- they just weren't yet done with them yet.
The guy does his set, and I hover in the background, impatiently stamping my feet, my mood already turning sour. However, as soon as he's done, he gets up and starts unracking. I motion to him in a way that says "no, leave them," and he asks me aloud "Do you want three or two?" Of course, he was referring to the number of plates on the machine -- he was working with three 45's and one 25 that has long since been put away.
I stare at him right in the eyes, a look of disgust blossoming on my face for him asking such a ridiculous question. Instead of picking a fight, however, I just motion for him to leave all of them on. I wouldn't be caught dead disgracing myself by saying a word to him.
Mind you, at this point I'm still wearing that jacket, the one that completely hides my size and aesthetics. Underneath I have a tight black cotton wife beater that fits perfectly to emphasize my shoulders, arms, and lower chest. But on top I must be the classic prototype of the "Ned Flanders Effect" -- a phenomenon that occurs when you've reached such a level in your aesthetics that with large clothing on it's difficult to tell you workout.
The guy kind of sniffed his nose at me, as if to say "what a fool -- trying to do 3 plates," and turned away. I come up to the machine, rage enveloping every single fiber of my body, grab the bars, ensure I have a good grip, and rep out 15 full motion reps. Easy. I do another set in 30 seconds, again 15 full motion reps, contracting my lats tight at the top and releasing my shoulders all the way at the bottom. I jump around a bit, getting more and more amped up. I start sweating, and decide it's time to unleash the power of my aesthetics for the entire gym to see. Stalking over to the lockers, I rip my jacket off and throw it down. Turning back to the machine, I notice myself for the first time in the full length mirror on the opposite walls. Veins are running up and down my arms like a racetrack, and the striations of my upper chest and shoulders are in clear view. My muscles are large and hard, benefiting from the carb-up I had begun that morning.
I move towards the machine, and make sure to make direct eye contact with the guy who was using it before. Making sure he notices, I grab two additional 45 plates and throw them down on the pull back machine, each one landing with a metallic KLUNK that was heard in every crevice of the gym. At this point I'm fired up, I'm ready to go, ready to kill it. Disturbed is blasting my headphones, and I grab the bars with my deadly grip. I look down and see even more definition and veins become visible on my forearms under the strain of the load. I pull the weight up for one. Grunting at the top, I release it back down, and then bring it up again. Two. One more time. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Heaving, I see myself in the mirror, face red as the sun. I feel blood vessels popping in my forehead, feel veins pulsating across my neck and god-like jawline. The weight comes down, and with a roar I pull it back up, drawing every single eye in the gym. The cardio bunnies in the back giggle in delight, no doubt admiring the spectacle before them. I make sure to take note of one in particular, and promise myself that post-workout cardio would consist of me and her in one of the locker rooms.
I drop the weight, ignoring all gym etiquette. I make sure that everybody in there f'ing knows it was me who lifted the weight, and it was me who threw it back down. I walk across to the water fountain, and notice the guy in the red, mouth hanging open, staring at me in shock. Passing him, I looked in the mirror and was forced to reevaluate my original estimate: there was nobody bigger than me in the gym that day.
--
Cliffs:
-Back day at gym turned better than expected with cardio bunny sex at the end.
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01-15-2011, 06:37 PM #1
So, today at the gym (cool story, bro)
Last edited by vadox6466; 01-15-2011 at 06:57 PM.
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01-15-2011, 06:45 PM #2
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01-15-2011, 06:53 PM #10
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01-15-2011, 06:54 PM #11Founder and CEO of Quick Cup, LLC.
thephilanthrocapitalist.com
"The last three or four reps is what makes the muscle grow. This area of pain divides the champion from someone else who is not a champion. That's what most people lack, having the guts to go on and just say they'll go through the pain no matter what happens."
Arnold Schwarzenegger
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01-15-2011, 06:55 PM #12
cliffs too short. never thought i'd say that
"on the bech press i usually start off with 205 doing it 5 times then once i ad my usual extra 5 pounds on i can barely do it twice. How can i increase my chest cardio? so i can rep heavy weight easier" -dc1992hp
come by and check out my log. I'm racing to a 275x5 bench and 185x3 strict press with comps.
http://forum.bodybuilding.com/showthread.php?t=141680751
*** MISC Strength Crew ***
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01-15-2011, 06:55 PM #13
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01-15-2011, 07:19 PM #24
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01-15-2011, 07:24 PM #26
lol i prob wouldnt have read it if i saw how many other people did. i was kinda scaired no one else would... it was really good i hope you use it for school good looks if thats legit.
Certified Exercise Physiologist by the American College of Sports Medicine
Bachelors degree in Exercise science / Pre physical therapy
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Reps to anyone who subs to my YouTube/Vlogs (comment your username on a video):
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Training/ Supplement Log for Evogen AminoJect:
http://forum.bodybuilding.com/showthread.php?t=168488143&p=1381515263#post1381515263
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01-15-2011, 07:25 PM #27
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01-15-2011, 07:42 PM #29
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01-15-2011, 07:48 PM #30
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