A muscle god, I shall never be. Let’s admit it. I am 44 years old with hair that’s now growing in odd places no matter how much I pluck and shave. However, I am changing.
After nine months out of work, I needed to force more changes upon my life. So for the past month, I’ve shifted my focus from professional to personal development.
After all the effort to give the professional folks what they expected, I decided to switch to being more myself. The goatee is back and a faux-hawk hairstyle is in place. I’ve been going to the gym and working out with a personal trainer rather than spending money on websites like LinkedIn.com and TheLadders.com. Because my extraordinarily hot but tragically straight trainer is also a nutritionist, he’s got me on a diet. It’s not the easiest diet, but it’s working and my body is transforming more quickly than I even expected.
This past month hasn’t seen a lot of weight loss as my fat is converting over to muscle. I’ve leaned out and my strength growth impresses even me. My jerk-off arm started so much stronger so a benchpress proved almost impossible when I started, so we began with dumbbells. Fifteen pounds each seemed too tough for three full sets my first time but now I’m up to 45 pounds each arm. I hate squats, yet I’m successfully pushing through them as well.
And I have biceps. They’re hidden under a layer of fat, but you can feel them.
I may not have a job. But for once, I am finding some satisfaction and seeing results underneath something of which I have control.
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