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Six months ago, my wife decided to leave me. I can't really say it was a mutual decision, but now I've never been happier.
I had done a few short cycles for college footabll in my youth, but since I've been in the "real world" I've been clean. Part of the problem was I met mywife in college, and she'd seen me on a cycle. I respond very well, and I knew I couldn't hide it from her.
I have continued to lift though, at least five days a week for over five years. My lifts are pretty much equal to what I did in college with juice, and at the yuppie gym I work out at, I was one of the strongest people (three plates and change on bench in a plate where people stare at two and change). Anyway, once she left me I naturally decided to get back in serious shape. So, after months of lurking here I settled on a Anavar only cycle. 40mgs of ** a day for eight weeks. I think that stuff is underdosed, but I still gained 8 pounds and my bench went up to four plates. Now I was getting stares and loving it.
So, I hit a Winny/Eq/Test cycle. keeping the Test at 250mg a week to avoid mass water gain. Appetite and strength went through the roof! Started getting very vascular and very strong. Now repping the 4 plates. People were starting to ask what I was "doing." On leg press day, the gym manager actually asked me not to use so much weight because there wasn't enough plates for the other members! That's when I realized I had outgrown my gym.
Luckily, they had that deal where you get a free workout with a personal trainer when you join up, and I hadn't used it!
Two months ago, just as I began a 1 gram of test per week/ deca / Arimidex cycle kicked off with two weeks of two green giants a day (British Dispensory A Bombs), plus a little Halotestin for "an attitude adjustment" I signed up for my free session.
Day of the session I dress in my old full blown Venice beach late 'eighties gear. Black stretch shoets with line green stripes, black Otomix martial arts shoes, parillo power lifting belt, black Gold's Gym muscle t, and a friggin' black doo rag. Plus, I bring a boom box and my old metal mix tapes: Metallica, Gun's and Roses, Pantera, and above all Slayer.
The "personal trainer" who meets me is twenty years old, one-eighty, and love the jazzercise classes. No wait, i'm being too had on him. The stud muffin loves the cardio-box. So, I say, "Maybe you could do my routine with me, and evalute it?" He give me a goggle eyed look, but says, "Sure no, problem." Wait, I left something out, first he asks me "What are your fitness goals?" I gave him my best Clint Eastwood deadpan squint and replied, "Win Mr.Olympia." He just stared at his feet, then mumbled, "Well...maybe this isn't hte right place for you, you know." I just gave him the stink eye and replied, "I still get my evaluation don't I." He nods, and says, "Of course, sir."
My first work set on squats is 450, with Slayer's "South of Heaven" album blaring. I'm screaming and going to failure, making him spot me from behind as I force out three reps past failure. And then it's his turn to lift...
t have to give him credit, he made it through the squats, and half way through the stiff legged dead lifts before he ran outside and lost his lunch. I followed him out and bellowed, "You call yourself a f******* fitness professional! Get back in there and lift! Pain is weaknes leaving your body, bro!"
The next day the manager asked me to leave and gave me a full refund...not prorated...a full year refund.
Glad to be part of this awesome board.
I had done a few short cycles for college footabll in my youth, but since I've been in the "real world" I've been clean. Part of the problem was I met mywife in college, and she'd seen me on a cycle. I respond very well, and I knew I couldn't hide it from her.
I have continued to lift though, at least five days a week for over five years. My lifts are pretty much equal to what I did in college with juice, and at the yuppie gym I work out at, I was one of the strongest people (three plates and change on bench in a plate where people stare at two and change). Anyway, once she left me I naturally decided to get back in serious shape. So, after months of lurking here I settled on a Anavar only cycle. 40mgs of ** a day for eight weeks. I think that stuff is underdosed, but I still gained 8 pounds and my bench went up to four plates. Now I was getting stares and loving it.
So, I hit a Winny/Eq/Test cycle. keeping the Test at 250mg a week to avoid mass water gain. Appetite and strength went through the roof! Started getting very vascular and very strong. Now repping the 4 plates. People were starting to ask what I was "doing." On leg press day, the gym manager actually asked me not to use so much weight because there wasn't enough plates for the other members! That's when I realized I had outgrown my gym.
Luckily, they had that deal where you get a free workout with a personal trainer when you join up, and I hadn't used it!
Two months ago, just as I began a 1 gram of test per week/ deca / Arimidex cycle kicked off with two weeks of two green giants a day (British Dispensory A Bombs), plus a little Halotestin for "an attitude adjustment" I signed up for my free session.
Day of the session I dress in my old full blown Venice beach late 'eighties gear. Black stretch shoets with line green stripes, black Otomix martial arts shoes, parillo power lifting belt, black Gold's Gym muscle t, and a friggin' black doo rag. Plus, I bring a boom box and my old metal mix tapes: Metallica, Gun's and Roses, Pantera, and above all Slayer.
The "personal trainer" who meets me is twenty years old, one-eighty, and love the jazzercise classes. No wait, i'm being too had on him. The stud muffin loves the cardio-box. So, I say, "Maybe you could do my routine with me, and evalute it?" He give me a goggle eyed look, but says, "Sure no, problem." Wait, I left something out, first he asks me "What are your fitness goals?" I gave him my best Clint Eastwood deadpan squint and replied, "Win Mr.Olympia." He just stared at his feet, then mumbled, "Well...maybe this isn't hte right place for you, you know." I just gave him the stink eye and replied, "I still get my evaluation don't I." He nods, and says, "Of course, sir."
My first work set on squats is 450, with Slayer's "South of Heaven" album blaring. I'm screaming and going to failure, making him spot me from behind as I force out three reps past failure. And then it's his turn to lift...
t have to give him credit, he made it through the squats, and half way through the stiff legged dead lifts before he ran outside and lost his lunch. I followed him out and bellowed, "You call yourself a f******* fitness professional! Get back in there and lift! Pain is weaknes leaving your body, bro!"
The next day the manager asked me to leave and gave me a full refund...not prorated...a full year refund.
Glad to be part of this awesome board.
