*To get full context, please click here and read part 1. While not required, it does help flesh out some of the things I go over in this post.*
My first real job I’ve ever had was at what was formerly known as Fletcher Jones Lexus (now Lexus of Las Vegas). I worked mainly as a Lot Porter who on occasion acted as a Front Desk Receptionist/Greeter for the dealership. Something I adored about this job (besides not being stuck in a classroom) was that it was a physically active position. I greatly enjoyed working a job that kept me on my feet. Breathing in the clean dry desert air really made me feel alive. I could tell I was the healthiest I had ever been up to that time.
On a typical day, I might be called upon to wash scores of new or used cars, as well as “line up” the cars on the lot to make them as presentable as possible for prospective customers. This was physical work and being 18, I thrived on it. At this time, I had no plans of attending college. Taking home a paycheck every two weeks gave me more gratification than any report card ever could. Once I started earning my own money, I honestly didn’t think about attending college. Besides, I really did not know what I wanted to do with myself other than continue to improve upon myself physically, and, learn more about the car business as an added bonus.
There was also another component–this one, being the biggest of them all. I was in a (at the time) male dominated sphere. While there were women employees, the majority were in the offices handling the accounting and affairs associated with running the back-end of the business. Out front, in the sales and service sector, the workforce was almost entirely male. I cannot overstate the significance of that last point in terms of my personal development. For the majority of my life, I was raised by a single parent mom who voluntarily refused to marry or even date anyone after her divorce. So, despite being an 18 year-old, I was very much a neophyte in terms of what it meant to be a man. I lived a very sheltered existence regarding all the nuances of what was expected of a man. This job laid the foundation into making me into the man I am today.
Here I was, a small country man with a thick southern drawl in the middle of this phenom of a “big city” surrounded by all manner of men–many of whom, unbeknownst to them, I considered surrogate father figures. Everything was broadened for me when I became a piece in this jigsaw puzzle of male brotherhood. This, I would come to find, would be a significant reason why I stayed in the business far longer than I should have. But I digress. Back to the story.
In short, “they,” being my co-workers, took me in and raised me as they would their own son. I was yelled at. Cussed out. Talked down to. All that good stuff! I’m not being sarcastic. It was good, even at the time, because I never really experienced it. I soaked it up like a sponge because these were male figures whom I respected and yearned to model myself after. There were times where I was too sensitive and failed to fully grow and expand as I would have liked, but I always knew this was precisely what I needed. I was finally in a place in my life where I could see how real men truly behaved. Please understand that I “missed” all of this valuable experience during my teenage years. So despite being 18, in reality, I was closer to 13–if that makes sense.
Best of all (as previously stated), I was getting paid the whole time whilst learning all this priceless emotional knowledge. This was the first time in my life where I did not have to rely solely on myself to figure out what I needed to do to be a man. I had example after example to model myself after and learn from. I soaked it all up. Especially the street smarts. From lewd profane humor to how to throw a punch, I was finally learning the man-dominated life skills from A-Z. Even little things like how to walk into a room–head up and shoulders back. Firm and erect. These men taught me how to command a room. It was all therapy for me. I will never forget the countless voids that these men filled. My first year at Fletcher Jones Lexus working around all those men did more to make me into the man I am today than all previous years of schooling combined. Here is a particularly paramount example as follows. My life would never be the same.
One day, I noticed a magazine on the sales manager’s desk I had never seen before called “Men’s Health.” That same day, I found out that one of my co-workers brought it in. There was a fitness model gracing the cover shirtless for the world to see. I remember looking at him with awe. His torso had more definition than a dictionary. He looked to be carved out of marble. I thought this was the coolest thing ever. I want to emphasize here that at that moment–those fast moving milliseconds–a chemical change inside my brain took place. All I could think is how much better I would feel about myself if I could someday look like that. I came so far not knowing anything about health and fitness other than leaving the junk food alone, and becoming more active in general by doing “knuckle” push-ups and sit-ups with the idea of tightening up my body. My lower stomach around the belly button in particular. That was an area that I wanted tightened but I did not know how to go about doing so. I patted myself on the back by performing as many as 150 push-ups and sit-ups a day. I really thought I was pushing myself very agreeably.
This magazine was on a whole other level though. My eyes were opened. Page after page was filled with workouts I had never seen before. I was being exposed to exercises and new terminology like muscle groups, dumbbells, barbells, and trap bars. There were tips on healthy eating and the importance of supplementation. Just the pages devoted on the importance of protein in the muscle building process kept me hooked like the young ignorant sponge I was, soaking up every drop of knowledge that could be squeezed from the magazine that was a veritable orchid of muscle building fruit. There were even articles in there not directly related to working out filled with advice for use in a variety of ways–knowledge than men should know to better themselves. I thought to myself “no wonder these men here at work know so much!”
I saw a new world the second I saw that man on the cover. I saw the Daniel that could be. The magazine became a living breathing metaphor for what was possible. I imagined myself being able to take all the father figures I knew at work home with me. I always knew I was a man but it’s hard to always feel like one when you don’t really know what a man is. The men at work and this magazine filled that chasm. Having practically stolen the magazine for the day, I asked my boss if I could take it home for the night and read the magazine cover to cover. Again. He offered me something priceless: He gave it to me to keep! At the time, neither of us realized he’d given me the gift of a lifetime.
I didn’t know anything about the importance of protein and carbs and fats. I knew even less about exercise. If a fitness neophyte existed I was it. Looking at that model, I knew he was doing a lot more than I. He looked different from the guys I would typically see in GQ. He was somehow just as lean as those men but larger too–muscles billowing out of his physique like a comic book character. I read that magazine and absorbed every word of every page hanging up every letter that made up every sentence in the notepad of my brain. Up to that point, I favored newsstands for years with my business, but I never ever ventured into the “Health” section. I wish I had, because that magazine introduced me to a world of hope and possibility as to what was achievable with the body. I just knew I could one day look just like that man on the cover. With time, diligence, and much sweat, and sacrifice thrown in the recipe, I could cook up a look for myself that would satisfy me. My arms, chest, shoulders, legs, and stomach, could look like monuments of power and vitality, if I just did what the magazine suggested. I needed no one’s approval. I knew it was meant for me to look that way and to feel as good as he must feel. Having read that issue cover to cover, I was sold. Not only did I subscribe to Men’s Health. I immediately joined my first gym, 24 Hour Fitness.
I had driven by the place several times on the way to one of the many grocery stores I frequented. From the apartments where I lived, I was five minutes away. I did not consider the importance of the gym until I was exposed to Men’s Health. I never played sports in school. I never before saw the inside of a weight room. And I didn’t have friends into athletics. This was a life changing step I took on my own. Walking in there the first time, I was blown away. The size of the place overwhelmed my then skinny frame. The number of people training inside was beyond all expectation. The feeling was like being the very last person to show up to a party–a weightlifting party if there were such a thing. I was surrounded by endless motivation. I saw acres of beautiful women sweating it out on treadmills, stair climbers, and elliptical machines, with TV’s attached (I’d never seen that before)! I saw men standing and seated on benches, hoisting unbelievably heavy weights with ease, performing movements under control designed to sculpt their bodies just as intended. As I was taking all of this in I was feeding off the energy. So much excitement was pulsing through my veins. And then there was all this equipment. It was overwhelming to see so much! There were so many free weights and machines and ropes and weight belts and trap bars–every possible resource one would need to build a world class physique. At the time, I couldn’t have told you the names of any of this equipment. Taking a deep breath, I knew, I belonged.
I did all of this before introducing myself to the ladies at the front desk. I was taking in what would be a tremendous learning curve, as I was by myself in this. In my household, I was the only one partaking in this. Still, I didn’t let fear creep in or anything negative, because I was so hyped up and excited that I was doing something to improve myself. This was one of those instances where intimidation was a good thing. I was investing in myself and proceeded in doing so, having gained the encouragement of the guys at work. There was no better way for me to find out what it is to be a man than to pick up something very heavy from the floor a bunch of times. I felt myself making up for all those years where I had no male guidance.
It was so rewarding to put myself on a path where I would finally stop feeling so bad about myself. After a brief consultation with a staff member, I signed up at the gym, left, and came back wearing some shorts and a t-shirt. Starting out, I had no clue what to work on first or even where to start. I did not even know what constituted workout clothes as I was never the athletic type growing up. I just copied what I saw other gym goers wearing. Something else I want to comment on is that I felt like I signed on to a fraternity of sorts. I was suddenly a part of a large community of people in the pursuit of self-improvement. To this day, this is an energy that I pick up on every time I step into a crowded gym.
On my first ever lifting session, I was given a primer on weights by one of the trainers at the gym–a guy not much bigger than myself probably around the age of 18. My wide-eyes self was completely lost in all the surrounding activity. We went to some of the popular Hammer Strength brand machines in the gym and he showed me how to train what I now refer to as the “beach muscles”–chest and arms. No matter how much you can squat or deadlift, nothing says “I workout” larder than a barrel chest and muscular arms. During the workout session, I was being exposed to new lingo like sets and reps. He told me that I would be doing 3 sets of 10 reps of each exercise. I inquired what that meant. He broke it down for me and made it easy to understand. When you pick up a weight, you do the exercise 10 times with good form, and stop. That is one set. You then rest for 60 seconds, and then repeat it over and over until all sets are done before moving onto the next exercise. Easy! In my first ever weight workout, the burning sensation I felt in my muscles was painful, but I felt fantastic! I imagined my arms of steel being cut and melted down by a blowtorch. What made it all the more intense was the cramping I was experiencing. This discomfort was a badge of honor for me. I could feel improvements being made. I was finally feeling like a real man doing real man things. I wasn’t parked on a couch gorging myself on encyclopedia’s. I was performing labor with other sweating grunting men who were hoisting significantly heavier weights. It was all so liberating!
My trainer then took me to a cable station with all these benches and hand attachments and took me through a few sets of cable chest fly’s and front lat pulldowns and some seated cable rows to work the back. Resistance weight training and lifting in general was all new to my body and it showed. My mind like my body had to adjust to entirely new impulses and sensations. What I perceived at first to be weight too heavy for me to handle was in reality strength imbalances between my left and right side. Being right-handed, I knew my right side was the more dominant, but I really didn’t know my left side was so pathetically weak as it was. When the session was over I thanked him for showing me around and getting me acclimated. My professional gym training would only be confined to this one session. Anything extra, I had to pay for. That, was the only time in my life I would have a trainer in the gym. I was in this from the beginning with a promise to myself that I would work myself up to the point where even if I could afford personal training, I wouldn’t need it. I completely immersed myself in my new hobby. I love to do something where I can set a goal, attain it, and then set another one. I consistently got stronger and faster and started to build up my endurance with each workout.
Within my first week of training, I wanted to look like a bodybuilder, and I trained that way. I made all the rookie errors trying to do it overnight. I remember staying in the gym at least two hours every session, trying to use every machine in the place, while jamming out to my favorite tunes on my iPod. In my zest, I was ignorant of the fact I was overdoing it. The way I saw it, if one hour was good, then two is even better. I could get twice as much done and then do it again the next day and the day after that. I hammered my body with set after set day after day. I used weights that were far heavier than I needed to, failing to give my joints and tendons enough time to get used to the stress of heavier and heavier weights. I had not yet known about the importance of taking a day off. I told myself that real men don’t take days off from the gym. I was a hardcore newbie. All the times I went and weight trained despite my body screaming with protest believing that the more pain I was in, the faster I could speed up the process of getting bigger and stronger. I panicked in a way, because this groundswell formed with my dogged belief that I had to make up for lost time. This is why I spent many days at work limping. Through it all, in my sun shining ignorance, I smiled, convinced that the more sore I was, the better off I would be. Callused hands and all. Sure it might take me longer to wash that Lexus in the blazing Vegas sun, but I didn’t care. I was busy outside of work getting “swole.”
At first, I worked out to the music they played on the universal sound system in the gym. But after getting an iPod, my workouts improved dramatically, because I could listen to what I wanted when I wanted. I could “zone out” and seal out all the other outside noise. With the aid of my earphones, and my favorite songs, I could train longer and harder, enhancing my focus on the goal at hand–to burn off fat and put on as much muscle as possible. If stepping into the gym is like stepping into another world, putting on my favorite songs suited me as exploring that world in style. Even on super rare days where I was just not feeling it, as soon as I slipped on my earphones, that switch flipped, and I came on. With music, I was instantly stronger and got the needed boost of energy to carry me through my more grueling sessions.
Like most guys, I spent most of my time training arms–biceps in particular, with all the other muscle groups taking a back seat. Hours were devoted to training my biceps. I was tired of my arms looking like Olive Oil’s. I wanted mine to look like Popeye. Countless hours were spent with me curling my life away with barbells and dumbbells. In due time, I began to see veins appear in my forearms and hands for the first time. This was the “pump.” That is the reason to this day why I keep on coming back to the gym. Checking myself out in the mirror, noticing the pump in the muscle groups I’m working is something that excites me as much now as it did when I was first starting out. Seeing your body grow before your very eyes is intoxicating. As focused as I was staring a hole into myself in the mirror, cognizant of my errant form of lifting more weight than I could handle, don’t let a pretty girl walk by. With all the pretty sights to be seen at that gym, I did more double takes than a new stage actor on film. I would pick up the heaviest weight I could manage and curl for reps even if I had to move my entire body to get the weight up! No doubt the girl noticed every single ounce of my struggle in getting the weight up. Oh! The good ol’ days of being a beginner in his prime! Curls for the girls! I had to get stronger. Toothpick legs notwithstanding, I turned the biceps curl into a body curl, using my legs like shocks in the suspension of a lifted truck to help swing the weight up. In gym parlance, this is called “body english.” Now I know better. While it is okay to utilize that technique in a few situations involving only a handful of reps, it is not okay to be heaving and craning with every rep of every set. At the time, I didn’t have a trainer, or a workout partner to go to for advice. I only knew to try as hard as I could manage with every workout.
All I had was my Men’s Health. With every month I would get exposed to a new routine or a new exercise or some kind of breakthrough in the world of nutrition. That magazine was my trainer. Still, many mistakes were made. Early on I made a lot of errors and mistakes in my form. While I didn’t follow their routines to the letter like I should have, I did begin to evolve. I started to lighten the weights and focus on form. If I was excessively sore, I took the day off and rested instead. Just because I took a day off didn’t mean I would lose all my “gains.” Over time, I learned the importance of lifting smarter. While I had a fairly balanced approach, I admit that I spent far more time on my biceps than I did training my legs. I had exercises that I liked doing, and others that I avoided, because they were hard and painful. Instead of training one body part every session like I do now, I trained some parts of my body, and let other’s fall by the wayside. Certain exercises I avoided early on are now my staples. For the first three to four years, I practically never used any free weight dumbbells or barbells, except for bicep related exercises, and my body reflected it. I had big bulging arms. My back and shoulders were above average, because they grow pretty easily anyway. However, relying purely on machines, I had a bird chest to match my chicken legs. To this day, my legs are still my hardest body part to train, because they are not meant to be big and muscular. They are not at all bulky in a bodybuilder/powerlifting sense, particularly from the knew down. To this day, my calves take on the appearance of a malnourished runner–lean and muscular but small, despite years of training them. I would learn that overall calf development is determined primarily by genetics.
Early on, I never bench pressed, squatted, or dead-lifted. While that has changed and now I do those faithfully, there was a time I was too afraid to do any of those. I would have grown bigger and stronger far sooner had I focused on those movements early on. I don’t have any regrets though, because those first couple of years I really was building my foundation. My tendons and ligaments needed to grow in strength and stamina for the heavy lifting that was to come. The one movement I did a lot of which strengthened my core far better than any sit-up was pull-ups.
Starting out, I couldn’t complete two full pull-ups on my own. I would just hang there holding onto the cold bar of steel like a living, breathing hangman. With much grumbling, I had to make my way to the “Assisted Pull-Up” machine in order to build up my grip strength and stamina to the point where I would be able to do full bodyweight pull-ups without assistance. I developed much dislike for that cold piece of steel at the other side of the gym. With every workout I sweated through, that bar beckoned me with its cold glare, daring me to grab on and try again. My ego was so sore. I allowed one piece of steel to get the better of me.
After what had to be a year on that machine, one day, I went back to the steel bar and knocked out a set of ten pull-ups! I was in disbelief at how easy it was. I felt so much lighter! I just wanted to do maybe 3 or 4 reps. At first I thought is was a fluke. I really did a set of ten? That easily? I took a minute or two of rest and then tried again. While I did not hit ten, I still hit for eight more. My form the second time around wasn’t the best, particularly with the last few reps where I used the momentum of my legs to help pull me back up in the air, but I did it. As the years have gone by, I went from not being able to do two full pull-ups to eventually knocking out multiple sets of over 20 reps with extra weights hanging from my waist. I went from being a certified couch potato to being bitten by the fitness fanatic bug and fully infected. I remember back when it seemed like I didn’t even have a metabolism. Once upon a time, everything I ate turned into body fat because I wasn’t active enough to burn all those excess calories. I went from being in a calorie surplus to being in a calorie deficit. As I have gotten older, and the workouts more intense, I find myself not consuming enough food. Sometimes, the more I eat, the slimmer and tighter, my muscles become. A trauma based mind can work wonders inflicting trauma on the body.
Other changes have come with age. Contrary to slowing down, I’m growing stronger and faster. Despite being 18 years older than when I started, my metabolism is now so fast that I don’t even have to do cardio anymore unless I want to get “peeled” aesthetically. Running on the treadmill eats away at my very hard earned muscle tissue as I am a hard gainer. In my mid-20’s I used to weight train for an hour and a half, and immediately follow that up with 30-45 minutes of cardio as much as seven times a week. I had to lay off that routine because not only was it really hard on my joints, but I was actually inhibiting my desired muscle gains by working out too hard. Sometimes less is more. Over the years I have learned to prioritize. During certain parts of the year I want additional strength and size, so I eat more than normal and keep cardio to a minimum. If I am looking to add on muscle, especially onto my legs, I’ll go months without any cardio at all in the pursuit of adding strength and size. Other times of the year I want to be leaner and show off a ripped midsection, so I will lower my calories from carbs and increase the duration and the frequency of my cardio. While the gym accounts for a significant portion of how you will look, food, is the star of the show. I did all I could to eat whatever I wanted so long as I spent two hours a day at the gym. I used to think that by running five miles seven times a week, that would be the fastest route to a “shredded” set of abdominals, but now I realize that diet is more than half the equation. While it is possible to an extent, you cannot out train a bad diet. And in the long-term, training like that is very hard to sustain. I was overdoing it or again in gym parlance, “overtraining.”
While at the time I took pride in overtraining, admittedly, I was under a period of sustained burnout. Even when my calories were up and my carbs high, whenever I was in burnout my enthusiasm was lower than normal. A sure sign of overtraining. Another tell-tale sign is the “pump.” Whenever the pump is down, or you’re feeling and looking “flat,” despite your calories and carbs being moderate to high, you’re’ probably overdoing it. That’s when it’s good to take a step back and not train for a few days. You’ll come back from the gym looking and feeling better than before. Even now, the looking better part is something I don’t fully understand. It’s almost like the body has to rest and catch up to all the progress you’ve been making. We don’t always see that progress immediately after a workout. It can be days before you really start to notice a change. Sometimes, less is more. If you want instant results every single time, all I an really say is “hurry up and wait.”
To stay in tip top shape year-round, keep a close eye on what you eat and when you eat it. Personally, I don’t count calories. I don’t use portion control. My eating plan is rather simple. I eat when I’m hungry and I keep snacking to a minimum. Whole food meals are the priority. I eat quality food so I don’t have to worry about excess fat ever being an issue. It’s impossible to get fat and sluggish on Chicken and Broccoli right? I cook all my meals so I know exactly what I’m eating. When I have no choice but to eat out, occasionally I will splurge for some apple pie or a slice of cake, but for the most part, I always choose a healthy option in terms of the primary meal itself. One option I employ when I know I’m going to go out and splurge on dessert is exercise itself. If I know food will be involved, as is always the case, and I don’t want to be on pins and needles about what I can eat, I will always make time for a workout just a few hours prior to the get together. If, ahead of time, I know I’m going to eat something I don’t normally, such as cake, ice cream, or cookies, I’ll crank up the cardio during my workout. The key is to keep my metabolism revved up through the night. I want that fat burning furnace at maximum production to limit any fat gain that may be incurred. Working out with weights and then washing it down with cardio is a fantastic way to negate fat gain before an occasion such as a holiday party when desserts are involved. While I believe in eating clean, I also believe in being human. Don’t deprive yourself all the time. You have to live a little. My go to desserts are apple pie or chocolate chip cookies.
As far as goals go, everyone is different. You can desire to lose weight or even gain weight in the form of muscle. Some want to gain strength. Some want to get “shredded” or “ripped” for the summer beach season. To the newcomer, all of this can be bewildering. The only way to simplify things is to do as I did and just dive right in. As much now as when I started 18 years ago, what I do at any given time in terms of diet, nutrition, and the gym, depends upon what kind of goal I have in mind for my body. I have a self-taught spring/summer lean-down program that I follow and a strength program and a mass program. Through the years, I have come to see what works best for my body. Different foods and workout programs work best for different folks. While a one-size fits all program can work, that does nothing for long-term consistency, because you very quickly get bored and are more likely to quit when you stop making progress. For that, you have to invest in trial and error and find what works best for you. If I can do it, anyone can, but it requires you to get closer to yourself than anyone else ever could. I see it now as I did from the first day I started: Nobody knows my body like I do, so why shouldn’t I be the one preparing my meals? Why shouldn’t I be the one designing my weightlifting program? Since I have my own best interests in mind, it’s easy for me to make the necessary choices and adjustments when required.
Food is the best example of this. Once you find out what foods work best for you, you will go out of your way to eat your own cooking. As a bonus, I save money and time, because I love cooking in advance. I have done it long enough now to where I actually look forward to it because I find it to be relaxing. It’s the same for supplementation. I’ve run into hundreds of gym goers who swear by this supplement and that brand and this pre-workout drink. Again, there is no right or wrong answer until you find out what does, and doesn’t work for you. For example, protein powder just does not agree with my system. Whether I mix it with water or milk or even orange juice, I have always experienced some form of intestinal discomfort. After drinking one, I struggle with bloating and more gas in my abdominals than a gasoline tanker. I tried so many big box brands convinced I would find one that agreed with my system but I never did. I had to give up on them, because any gain in strength and size I was making was not worth the pain I was enduring on the ivory tower. Sometimes we convinced ourselves that we won’t be successful unless we have this and that in advance. I spent hundreds of dollars on whey protein–money that could have gone to the most important supplement of them all: Food. Through trial and error, I learned that just because it’s a supplement, doesn’t mean it will agree with your body. Whole food is far more important than any supplement. Abs are made in the kitchen. Not in a protein shake.
My diet in general is pretty basic. It is built on a foundation of Oatmeal, Chicken Breast, Ground Turkey Burger, Fruits, Fish, Rice, and Vegetables. I listen to my body. If my body is craving carbohydrates, I feed it carbohydrates. I don’t worry about it because I know how much work I perform in the gym. Our bodies instinctively know when they need something in particular. Still, life doesn’t always go as planned, so if I must snack on a bag of chips or a candy bar, I at least have a bottle of water with it to lessen the detrimental impact on my body. This is oversimplifying, but when in doubt, if you want to lose weight, drop your carbohydrate intake. Now if you want to lose weight in the form of fat and subcutaneous water, whilst holding only your hard earned muscle, drop your carbs but do not drop your protein. If anything, I advise raising your protein just a bit to offset the drop in calories that will come from the drop off in carbs. When you want to gain weight, in the form of muscle, I increase my carbs in lockstep with my protein intake.
As far as drinks go, by and large, I have soda a few times a month on average. I have gone months without them. The sugar content in sodas is an abs killer and it gives me that bloated retained water look. I stick with the most beneficial beverage of them all: Water. I have had so much of the stuff at the gym I am now completely dependent on water to quench my thirst. As a former sugar addict, I don’t even add flavor packets. It is truly perfect as is.
I say all of this to say that when I first started out, even before I got to the gym, my main concern was to lose weight. I was not trying to do or be anything special for anyone other than myself. The only frame of reference at the time that mattered, other than how I looked in the mirror, was the scale. I knew nothing regarding the bodybuilding lifestyle or any of its’ concepts such as: Body Composition. Years passed before I realized that it’s not the number on the scale that matters, but rather the amount and proportion of subcutaneous water, body fat, and lean body mass, (i.e our muscles, connective tissues, bones), that really determine how one looks. Genetics play a huge role. One of the worst things I did when I first started was weigh myself on a continuous basis because I believed that the only way I could track tangible progress was to monitor how much weight I was losing. If I could go back in time and talk to my younger self, I would tell that young man to SLOW DOWN. Bodybuilding is the best way to train and develop the muscles of the body but like anything else worth working for, great results take time. A lot of time. I truly thought I could see real tangible progress daily. Your dream body is not going to happen overnight so there’s no need to track your weight daily unless you are getting ready to compete on a stage in a bodybuilding show. Sometimes it’s the path–not the goal. Sometimes it’s not how fast you get there. It’s how long you stay once you arrive. Be steady. Be consistent. Be committed. And dedicate yourself fully and you will arrive at your own best body.
When you are exercising your body, you are actually training your mind to follow your orders. As a child I allowed food to control me. Now I am the one in control. I use food to achieve whatever purpose I have in mind, whether it is to gain additional mass, or lean out for the summer in time for pool season. I wish someone would have introduced me to weightlifting while I was growing up. The gym would have provided me with a much needed distraction from the pain that came through my parents divorce. The mental health benefits alone are worth their weight in gold. There is no therapy like Iron Therapy.
No matter what is going on with you personally, you leave all of that behind the second you step through those doors. Whether it is for 30 minutes or 2 hours you can take solace in knowing that you are engaged in the most beneficial work possible for your body with countless dividends being reinvested in the feel good endorphins of your brain. You will find yourself living a happier more productive more fulfilling life just by making positive changes in your health.
We only get one body, so nourish it, protect it, and guard it with your life. If you do so, it will cherish you for a lifetime. I’ll see you at the gym.
–Daniel Cousin
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