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Bodybuilding story-The Stranger

ajdos

Featured Member / Kilo Klub
Featured Member
Kilo Klub Member
Joined
Jul 19, 2005
Messages
5,056
I have written a couple of these in the past, some liked, some not so liked. I figure the PM crowd to be the toughest.
This is not your usual bodybuilding story, I will warn you its decently long but shouldn't take more than 15-20 min to read.
I will ask that if you happen to like the story, and you repost it somewhere at least make sure and give me the credit.
Craigs Story -which was written by me, has since been stolen, re-written and some other people have taken credit for that.
I dont get paid to do these, but I like writing, although Im still a noob at it.

I hope you enjoy it.


Morning, another day of being alive for him. Not that being alive was as good thing. Things hadn’t always been bad, he just couldn’t remember when they had been good anymore. He swiveled his body off the side of the bed, feeling every sore spot. His body ached not only from his hard training in the gym, it was sore all over from countless injections of anabolics and any other substance he thought would help him grow larger and leaner. Being a bodybuilder had started out innocently enough. Just wanting to look better and feel better were goals long since dead. His mission, his war was all consuming now, the reason had grown unimportant. It was the battle that mattered now, just don’t give in. Shuffling to the bathroom he sat and took a leak like a woman, he was too tired and sore to stand. Taking a look in the mirror, he didn’t like what he saw, a face pock marked with scars from teenage acne, and two soulless eyes that were bloodshot and drained, a body full of muscles, covered in tattoos. The scars, the translation of his pain into muscle and body, the personification of his self hate. He wasn’t an old man, but he looked and felt much older than his years; years he was certain were not long for this world. Coffee was the first order of the day, drugs were the next. DNP, some GH, maybe some peptides and some clenbuterol. “Breakfast of the champions.” he chuckled to himself sarcastically. Next was getting dressed and walking the dog, lucky for him there was a large hill right outside the front door. Two birds with one stone, get the dog walked and get morning cardio in. He returned forty-five minutes later, cooked breakfast and his meals for the day. While they cooked he loaded up two five milliliter syringes with 2 cc’s of trenbolone, 2cc’s of masteron, and 2 cc’s of testosterone propionate-great thing about 5cc syringes is they actually hold 6. Then he took his morning shots, and popped a couple anavar, winny and turnibol to wash it down. Breakfast of twelve egg whites and five packs of instant grits was next, followed up by 10 iu’s of insulin. Loading all his food, drugs and supplements for the day into the truck he thought about how his life had become this ridiculous protracted suicide. Too him it was elementary, he simply didn’t want to be alive anymore, but killing himself in some traditional manner was a coward’s play. But how was this any different? It didn’t really matter the end result was the same, and the prospect of fighting every day a way just to lose ground and slowly decay was just something he didn’t want; however he knew deep down in his gut his purpose on this planet was to suffer. The only thing that made him feel better was the gym, and the results. In that arena he was a somebody, and to keep that progressing he would do anything. Besides who else was he hurting besides himself? No one was going to miss him if he suddenly didn’t show up, he was just some meathead at the gym. It was too late to go back now anyways, he was all in. As he drove along the highway to work, he saw the other people driving along to their jobs and wondered what their lives might be like. How was it to have family and people who you cared about, and who cared about you. He sometimes regretted having put so much energy into a sport that encouraged being a loner, or at least it had for him. Sometimes he felt sorry for people who didn’t go to the gym and experience what he did, but he realized that it simply wasn’t something that was meant to be done by everyone, and that’s what made it and him special. He could do it, and do it well, and they couldn’t.

After another day at work he was ready for the gym. Today was going to be shoulders. His workouts as of late had been nothing short of spectacular. He had split up with his girlfriend two months before and now he solely concentrated on his training and eating. He was as big and strong as he had ever been in the twenty some odd years of lifting. He had recently gotten a personal record on barbell shoulder press. Today he was going to shatter that, he could just feel it in his bones. The extra energy he had now from not having the drain of a stressful relationship was amazing, and he had decided no more dating. There would be no more women and their fucking drama, not for a long time at least. After all he was a man and still found women to be very attractive. Just right now he was enjoying the peace and quiet from his new found solitude. It was just him and the dog now.

Monday night at the gym, and the place was fucking packed. He worked his way to the back where the shoulder press rack was located. It was all the way in the back corner, which he liked, since he could be away from the other members. On this particular night there was a girl positioned between the rack itself and the adjacent squat rack. It was too close of quarters for him to just walk up and squeeze in, and negotiating the weights would be a pain in the ass. Not too mention, most women were completely scared off by him. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been called ‘intimidating’ despite having a good amount of respect for people and personal space boundaries. The last thing he wanted to ever be called at the gym was ‘creepy guy’, there was a lot of insults he could take, but that wasn’t one of them. In fact he hated the losers who came to the gym and mucked up the place trying to act serious while hitting on the few fit women who were there to work out-not get a date. He was no ladies man, but he wasn’t one of those phony ass douche bags either, he’d rather eat broken glass. After a few minutes passed, he realized she wasn’t going anyplace, anytime soon. Reluctantly he went over and put down his gym bag and started putting on his gear, all the while trying his best not too look or make eye contact with the women who he had just encroached upon. She was actually doing some sort of lunge type exercise between both the racks, the end of the bar was almost level with her head. As he suspected putting plates on meant, waiting for her to finish her set and doing his warm ups he noticed that it was an awkward and uncomfortable space issue.
Despite that he pushed on, and continued to ignore her, feeling that soon enough she would either finish or get pissed he was intruding and leave-either way he would have the corner to himself. However this woman posed a bit more of a challenge than the usual gym girl. She kept on doing set after set, even after he put two-twenty-five on the bar, she refused to budge. Now he felt like she was being indignant, letting him know maybe that she wasn’t afraid of him. Again he reminded himself as soon as he got the big sets going she would be gone. Unfortunately, like the first times she wasn’t moving, not a fucking inch! So now he was looking her over. A little at a time he sneaked looks at her, and he realized that this woman was in great shape. She was hiding it well with the clothes she was wearing, but she had shoulders and legs on her like a competitor, he’d done enough shows to know the look. Now he was distracted, women like her didn’t come to the gym often, and when they did they were usually out of towners on a one day pass. The more he looked her over the more he liked what he saw, then it hit him, he was there too work out not look at the new girl! Back to shoulder press, but it was too late, he found himself completely distracted by her. The next set he completely struggled with a weight he should have gotten for ten reps. Not too mention he was feeling the pressure of letting a peer see him fail on lifts. He tried to shut it out and get himself hyped up, but to no avail, the workout was completed, but it had fallen far short of his expectations. And all the while she stood her ground and never did leave while he was doing presses, in fact it was him who had conceded the space to her. Who was this woman? Now he was mad at himself, why in hell was he wondering about some stranger?

The next day started like the one before. Another morning of self reflection. Every man has to die, but it really says a lot when a man feels like he’s already dead inside and simply waiting for nature to execute some kind of terminal act. The problem wasn’t so much that he was a weak man, in fact, it was that he was strong and could withstand the punishment. For some this would seem like a blessing, but to him it just meant he would take the punishment for a long time and prolong his suffering. He would think to himself that he knew his life had gotten very bad when you only had two reasons to keep being alive: Reason two being his dog, and reason one being that checking out was a punk move and he wasn’t going down like that. That was simply not part of his programming, no way ever did you quit anything, ever! No matter how bad his life got, he knew he could and would withstand its punishment and consequences. That didn’t mean every day greeted him with a smile, and that he enjoyed being alive, to him it was simply just a fight, a fight he would more than likely lose. He swallowed hard and got up to do his usual routine of drugs, cardio and breakfast. His time would come, just hopefully sooner rather than later.

He had been back to the gym several times and not encountered the stranger girl again. Workouts had been good, very good in fact. Tonight’s workout was no different, he was doing back and working deadlifts like they were nothing. Between four-ninety five and five-eighty-five he was adjusting his straps and he looked up to see a woman wearing what had to be one of the tightest gym outfits of all time. She was just absolutely fit, what a physique. Her legs and shoulders were the most impressive, they were not only developed but she was still extremely feminine. She had looks and muscle. He realized he was staring at her, he also realized it was the woman from the other night. He took his eyes off her and went back to his workout, this time he was not going to be distracted, not a chance. Head down, eyes forward, and get to work. Slowly she worked her way to that end of the gym, but this time he had the corner by the shoulder press and with a bar loaded with forty-fives he wasn’t giving an inch. He could see her in the mirror she was directly behind him setting up a preacher bench. He looked back at the bar, took a deep breath and concentrated on his task at hand Then out of the corner of his eye he saw movement, she was right behind him and saying something, he couldn’t hear her because his music was blaring in his ears. He took the ear bud out and gave her a look with raised eye brows. She simply asked ‘Are you using that bar?’ What the hell is she talking about? He had damn near six hundred pounds on there, was she joking? He could feel the muscles in his face scrunching up giving that perplexed ‘what the fuck?’ look. Her facial expression changed as well, and so did her tone, pointing underneath the shoulder press rack, ‘the cambered bar!’. He craned his neck to look and just could see the cambered bar under the rack, suddenly he felt like a fucking moron. Then he looked back at her saying ‘Its all yours’ and put his ear bud back in and went back to his bar and deadlifts. He finished his workout without anymore interruption or distraction. Later as he left the gym he reflected on the encounter. Why had she bothered him about that cambered bar? There was one on the fixed barbell rack in plain view, so why did she need that one? And how in hell did she even see it? He was standing practically on top of it and never noticed it. He thought she probably thought him to be a dumb meathead, which wasn’t too far from the truth. No big deal, she would not the first woman to think he was an idiot before. She sure had some attitude too. Whatever, he would do the same to her as he did any women in the gym who got an attitude, ignore her. It wasn’t like he was asking her for anything or needed anything from her. He was an island.

For the next few months, things carried on as usual. He sunk deeper into his self hatred and depression and took it out on the weights. He actually sometimes found himself depending on feeling bad. The worse he felt on the inside, the better the workouts he was having and the better results he was getting. He was lifting weights he hadn’t touched since he was in his twenty’s and was close to three hundred pounds. He wasn’t some fat slob either, not competition ripped, but ‘gym hard’. His deadlift and squat had both gone above the seven hundred pound mark and progress seemed almost daily. The strange woman continued to come to the gym and seemed to have a similar schedule to his own, she was there just about every time he was. It made no difference, he ignored her, and even felt like she had a bit of a dislike for him. Despite all that, he had respect for her. The girl could flat out train, and train hard. She often times put many of the men to shame in the gym, and he always got a good laugh to himself about that. One such fellow thought himself a likely suitor apparently. She beat him like a drum, left him beat red and hung up wet. It was even funnier to see her joking with a couple of girls about how bad she had made the would be suitor feel physically. That was enjoyable, he thought the guy was a douche bag and got what was coming to him anyways. The kid probably thought he was going to show out for her and instead got his ass kicked plain and simple. Someone who trained that hard earned his respect. Despite his deference to her he had to admit she wasn’t just the average gym fitness girl, she had some guts.

The following week he was slated for a leg workout. While at work he had drank some weight gain ready to drink and was bloating badly. He cursed himself for drinking it, he knew these things gave him gas! He tried and tried as much as possible to expel the gas before going to the gym. This included a fifteen minute session out in the parking lot before going into the gym. He warmed up with one-thirty-five and at the bottom of the first rep he ripped a fart. FUCK! He racked the weight and looked around. Coast was clear, Friday nights at the gym tended to be sparse. He put two-twenty-five on the rack and the same thing happened again! FUCK! FUCK! Still no one around. Three-fifteen went fine, no fart but he could feel his stomach, and four-o-five it happened again! Not only was this a nuisance but a huge distraction, not too mention people were in the gym, just not in his vicinity, but he knew that would change soon enough. Carefully he put two more forty-fives on the bar, and got ready. Well who should come sauntering up to the Smith machine, right next to him and the squat rack? Well if you guessed the girl, you were right. He couldn’t believe his bad luck. Of all the damned people, he could not let a fart slip out in front of this girl! The gas in his belly was rumbling too, this was a recipe for embarrassment and disaster. He cinched his belt as tight as it would go, he could feel the intestinal pressure, but he would be damned if anything came out of his body. He took the weight off the rack and positioned himself, he looked in the mirror and he was already beat red. He descended for the first rep and he turned a shade of purple. He did three more reps like that and realized that he had been holding his breath practically. He breathed out and caught his breath, the veins on his neck and forehead were extra strained now. He went down yet again, and again, and finally one more time. He racked the weight and was grateful for not blowing it out right in front of the girl. He unbuckled his belt and found a bench to sit down on, then he saw stars. Who knows what his blood pressure was during that set, but no doubt it had to be an extreme number. The good news was whatever physiological effects the set had upon his body, one of them seemed to be that his gas was gone. He did one more set of squats and moved on to the leg extension. As he started his first set, he was relieved that he had both finished squats and not passed gas in front of the girl, added bonus he was away from her again. Then as he started his first rep she came and got on the hamstring machine to his left. Oh for Christ’s sake! All the machines she has to pick that one right next to him! Fuck it, just get this shit done. He noticed that not at any point did she look his direction or even seem to notice him, despite their unusually close proximity. This seemed odd to him, who sits that close to another person without at least a casual look? Whatever he didn’t have time to philosophize about it, he was here to train. He finished up extensions and went back to the rack to lunges. Finally, just him and the weights, no more damned distractions. As he completed his first set with one-thirty-five here comes the woman, she’s parking her self right behind him on a bench doing dumbbell step ups. Is this woman following him? Nah, couldn’t be. This woman doesn’t like him and he’s not exactly the type of guy who attracts women like her. She’s not only fit, but she’s classy and word is she’s done very well for herself. He shrugs off his suspicion as just having an overactive imagination and a touch of hypoxia from holding his breath during squats. Lunges go as expected, he hates them but they are a killer exercise. He walks down the length of the gym to the leg press machine, loads on five forty-fives on each side and prepares for one leg presses. But before he can get down into the machine and do one rep, here she comes again, and begins putting plates on the leg press right next to him. There is all of eight or nine people in the whole gym, of all the equipment that’s free and available in the gym she just so happens to have to use the pieces right next to him?! And yet still, not one word, no eye contact, just follow and train. Something in his gut told him something was going on, but he quickly dismissed any thought and got back to training. He finished up his workout and drove home, he couldn’t help himself wondering what that had been all about, probably nothing, just his imagination. Besides he’s pretty sure she doesn’t like him anyways. Yeah its just coincidence he tells himself.

The next couple of months in the gym were more of the same things. He found it irritating and it was becoming a problem for his training. He had even resorted to going at different times of day, which had backfired on him because out of chance she had been there during odd hours as well. So he went back to his usual time of training. What pissed him off was that he was worrying about this woman more and more and thinking less about what he needed to do with his actual workouts. This was simply unacceptable. On top of this his mood was not improving, he had pushed up the dosages on the drugs and they certainly weren’t helping with his anxiety and depression. Fuck it he told himself, this is my fight, this is my war no one but me and if I die, so be it. He ground down even harder into his training, and the workouts were taking on more and more of a self punishment feel. He was pushing way past any usual pain threshold he had, pain was all he had and the more of it he experienced the better he felt afterwards, now it was about proving something to himself; how much punishment could he withstand, mentally, emotionally, and physically. There was a reservoir of pain inside him, and endless well of hopelessness to draw upon, and he did just that. With all that going on inside of him, he began to feel like she was watching him, observing him. He could never catch her looking at him, but she seemed to always end up in close proximity. It was a gut feeling that she was watching. He thought she probably felt sorry for him, or thought he was an even bigger moron than she first suspected. Three hundred and ten lbs of meat and tattoos, yeah he thought sarcastically, women always go for that type of guy. He reasoned with himself that she probably wasn’t used to seeing someone attempt to kill themselves with the gym and drugs and wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. He had finally gotten used to her presence and found her to be less of a distraction. But now he found himself thinking about her when he wasn’t even at the gym. That bothered him, he needed to focus on the task, not wonder about some woman from the gym. But try as he may, he couldn’t stop wondering about her. It wasn’t sexual, so much as it was wondering what she was like. He was curious, because he knew what drove him to train till he dropped, his life was terrible and he used the fuel of that self hate and frustration to fuel those workouts. But this woman seemingly had everything, looks, money, a lot of his friends had talked her up and some had even asked her out. So he was curious, where did she derive her motivation, and how does someone so very different, so opposite from him push herself like that? Where does it come from? He would get mad at himself and admonish himself for thinking about her, but he knew he was already fucked. He couldn’t stop. He just had to accept she was no longer a simple curiosity, but that he liked her. He felt ashamed of himself for it, he hated himself even more for it, to him it was simply weakness, a sign that the stress was finally breaking him down, and that he was beginning to lose this battle against his life. What worried him was he wondered if he was losing his sanity. Things seemed simple when it was just him and his hate, but now there was this. It was like his soul was crying out for some small taste of what it was once like to be human.

The downward spiral continued, and he just ignored the signs that he was spiritually unhealthy. He had never been a religious man and he did believe in God. Although he didn’t appreciate the Bible beaters over zealous attempts at saving his soul. As he explained to them, his soul could not be saved. Despite that he had his beliefs in God. His theology was simple, you didn’t go around asking God to clean up your mess. You only asked god two things; you asked God to help those who needed the help, and you asked God for guidance. In his view it was ok to ask god for help to make decisions. But he hadn’t spoken with god for some time. God was too busy helping people who actually needed and deserved help. To him God was like a parent at some point he would expect his children to grow up and look after themselves. This was his situation, he had made the mess, and he was bearing the consequences. One thing about getting older is you lose things. And for him he had lost a lot, and there were just some things that once you lost them they could never be brought back. Most people have a word for that, its called death. Some people don’t die until they are old and their bodies are no longer capable of supporting physical life. For others, like him, death happened early on, it was just a matter of the body finally catching up. This day he received a phone call, it was a call he’d been expecting for a long time. But it was here now, and it was another slice into his bruised and darkened soul. He sat on the couch numb, his dog licking the tips of his fingers, he knew this day would come, but living it was much different than he imagined. More than any time previous he wanted to die, he wanted to die painfully and suddenly, he didn’t care. He went to work and pretended like things were just fine, but inside he was ready to explode. He drove to the gym in silence, today he had planned on doing chest. Not his favorite body part, he would have preferred back, but it was going to be chest.

He walked into the gym, packed as it was, he had tunnel vision. He saw the incline barbell bench and knew that is where he needed to begin. He slowly stretched, took a swig of his branched chain aminos, took a deep breath and looked around. The regulars for this time of the day, the usual faces and the usual lackluster workouts. Chest was not his strong body part, the most he had even inclined had been four-thirty-five but shoulder and elbow issues had kept him from that type of poundage for a long time. But today wasn’t going to be about playing shit safe, it was time to stop being a big pussy and get on with it. He warmed up with one-thirty-five easy enough, no aches or pains, nice and smooth so far. Two-twenty-five was a bit different, he felt his left elbow a bit. Fuck it, this is going to happen no matter what. He took another swig of his aminos and stretched out some more. The next set would be three-fifteen and it wouldn’t be a piece of cake, ten reps would be hard. He sat down on the bench, took a deep breath, put his hands on the bar and felt the knurls. Breathing slowly, and rhythmically trying to pull up the emotion from the morning, but it just wasn’t there, he was flat. He told himself he just needed to do this set and it would come. He unracked the weight and it felt like it was a ton, he struggled through six reps and racked the weight. He sat up and looked in the mirror at himself, glaring back at the reflection. The thought occurred to him that this was just the wrong lift to try to do this with. No! He was going to do this, he could get his head right. He put a twenty five on each side, three-sixty-five would get his adrenaline going. He took another deep breath, he could smell the gym, he could smell the fragrance of the rubber mats, the rust on the plates, the dull dirty smell that every gym always has. He exhaled and though to himself, got this. The set went no better than the last, he barely got three and really almost got stuck on the third. Now he was pissed, this was just frustrating. How could he have done four-thirty-five and suck so bad at such a lighter weight? How in fuck was he stronger on every other fucking lift but this one? He was shaking his head, he bent down and grabbed his jug, took a good couple gulps of the aminos and as he went to put the jug back he caught a glimpse in the mirror of her. She was wearing an amazing outfit, with an open back, and her back was just amazing. It was better than his, she had awesome shape with her size and still very much feminine. She looked amazing, but that wasn’t really what caught his eyes, it was the two blue eyes looking at the reflection in front of him looking back through the dual reflections, and he couldn’t look away. Someone walked between them and as quickly as it had happened it was over. He didn’t know what to make of it, there was no discernable expression, just a moment of recognition. He suddenly felt pain in both his hands, he looked down and he was squeezing his hands into fist so hard they were both shaking. He quickly released his fingers and stretched them out flexing his fingers open and closed. What had happened he didn’t know, but he felt every bit of his insides churning, there was heat behind his eyes and a swelling in his throat. He took a deep breath, but this time it was like breathing in flames, and he could feel something inside of him awakening. He looked back in the mirror, she was still there, but not looking, but she was there, and that’s all he needed now. He took off the 25’s and slapped on another forty-five. He didn’t care if he failed, he didn’t care if she saw it, he didn’t care if the bar came down and broke his fucking neck! He was shaking all over, his breathing was hard but rhythmic. He grabbed the bar and twisted his calloused hands around the knurls, slowly twisting and tightening his grip. He could feel his body as if it was one working machine ready to perform its task. He took the bar off the rack and pushed with every bit of angst he had inside and the bar steadily rose and descended, four…five….six….he paused, then continued, his heart beating like a piston against his rib cage and he grunted out three more reps and racked the weight. FUCK YES! Now its time to fuck this shit up. It was decision time, and it was a big decision. Was he going to go for four-fifty-five, or take the risk and go up to five plates? He could feel his anxiety, this was a weight he simply had never done before. He stood staring at the weight tree, his eyes could have seared a hole through it, he must have been fixed on it hypnotically for minutes before he broke out of his meditation to grab two forty-fives off the tree and put them on the bar. This was the most he had ever attempted but he didn’t give a shit. He didn’t care if he died today trying to do this fucking weight. Sitting back on the incline bench he took another drink of aminos, he looked up at his reflection. Now what he saw was something different, something grotesque, this was no man, this was his personal demon, the one who told him every day he was nothing and he would never amount to shit. Looking at this reflection he leaned forward closer to the mirror and said quietly “fuck you”. He leaned back against the bench, and gripped the bar with both hands, fixing his position underneath the behemoth. He breathed hard and cleared his mind and thought about God. And he thought to himself, God if this is the moment I die, then so be it, I am done playing this game. He rested his head back against the bench, breathing slowly in and then he caught the fragrance of a woman, he knew it was her. His eyes were closed but he knew she was watching. Then he thought again about god. P.S. God, no way I’m fucking punking out in front of the girl either.
Grabbing the bar, he prepared himself for the feeling of pressure on his wrists. Now he took in slow deep breathes, waiting for the music to come to the ’white moment’ and then he would explode. As the music reached its crescendo he pushed up against the weight and it precariously came off the pins, he could feel the plates shuddering as he brought the weight overhead and into position. Every man comes to a point in his life, a crossroads, a point where you must decide to live or die. For him, this was his moment. He hated himself so much he could barely stand to look at himself anymore, and he was willing to do almost anything to hurt himself, he was a self destructive human being. He had fooled himself for a long time that he was being brave, as brave as any man, but the truth he realized in that moment was that he had been a fucking coward. Not just any coward, a yellow bellied pussy of a coward, and that it’s a lot easier to just crawl in a hole and die than to get out there and live. Right now, he wanted to live, he wanted to live as bad as he ever had. It was time to stop being a pussy and put in the hard work. He let the weight descend slowly, and brought it to his chest, the pain was immediate, he thought maybe he tore something but the weight remained stable and he pushed back against it. Slowly, painfully the weight ascended, he was clinching his teeth so hard he could hear them squeaking in his mouth and he breathed spit through his clinched teeth. ONE! He could have stopped there but he was not going to settle for that, again he brought the bar down slowly, his pecs screamed out in pain as the fibers were slowly being stretched to the point of tearing. He squeezed his eyes so tight he could feel the wincing of tears being pushed out from the pressure of his eyelids, this time the weight slowly and unevenly moved up to a fully extended position. TWO! His breathing was erratic and labored. He thought about quitting right there, but he growled to himself ‘NOT….DONE….YET!’ he was drawing breath as hard as he could, he was spitting more through his teeth as he slowly let the weight down. At the bottom he pushed back and the weight began to stall and he squirmed under the bar and it came down on his chest. He opened his eyes to see someone reaching for the bar as if to pull it off of him and he yelled “NO!! MY FUCKING WEIGHT!!” Then with one explosion from the bottom the weight moved again, slowly, painfully, grinding upwards as if pushing through a wall of clay. Then the weight stalled again, but this time he locked and wouldn’t let the weight come back down. His elbow and shoulder both cried out in pain, but he ignored the pain and grit down harder. Again the hands came in, and again he called them off “NO! I GOT THIS!”. The thought of all the failures and disappointments in his life, he was not going to let this be one of them, that bar was no different than his father who had admonished him as a child, or his classmates who teased and tormented him, or his ex-wife who was as useless as screen doors on a submarine, they had all beaten him, but this was going to be his time. And he pushed. And again the bar moved, and shuddered, his breathing was bordering on hyperventilation and several people had gathered around the spectacle he had become. People shouted words of encouragement and stood by watching this struggle with this one mans humanity. And the bar slowly kept driving forward. Blood ran down from his nose and stained his teeth as he bared them like a wild animal. And the bard ascended, and finally reached full extension, he barely made the pins as he racked the weight and his arms collapsed onto his chest and he laid there panting. People clapped and some came up and slapped him on the shoulder saying good words, none of which he could hear. After a while he caught his breath, his upper body was pumped full of blood, and his chest, shoulders and arms were feeling wasted. About that point there was a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see a young man looking at him inquisitively. The kid looked to him and said ‘that was amazing, how did you keep going like that? I mean how did you not quit?’. He looked up to the kid and said ‘easy’ hitching his thumb over his shoulder, ‘her’. The kid looked around perplexed, ‘who? I don’t see anyone’. That’s when he looked and realized she was gone, she wasn’t just gone from where she had been standing, she wasn’t even in the gym. He didn’t know if she had seen him make the lift, but he felt that she probably had. He never did see her again. His life went through more bad times, but he eventually came out of it, it wasn’t easy, in fact things got worse before they got better. But every day that went by he thought about her, the stranger from the gym, he never did know her name. She had slowly worked her way into his life without ever knowing it and she somehow became a light of inspiration at a time when he was living in total void of darkness. Every time he thought he couldn’t do it anymore he remembered her. He found out later through the gym grapevine she had moved away and gotten married. But you know those gym rumors.
 
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992g

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Awesome job brother!! I really enjoyed reading that! I think all of us can relate to it many different ways.
 

myosaurus

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dont make fun of me because I had tears in my eyes.:D many of your stories really relate to a lot of us. that was great read!
 

Racepicks

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You have great writing talent, Ajdos! Great read. My attention span is admittedly short, but I couldn't stop reading :headbang:
 

ajdos

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Awesome bro, thanks
You're welcome glad you liked it.

Awesome job brother!! I really enjoyed reading that! I think all of us can relate to it many different ways.
I try to put some things out there that we all have to go through some times, good and bad sides to bodybuilding.

dont make fun of me because I had tears in my eyes.:D many of your stories really relate to a lot of us. that was great read!
Glad you enjoyed it myo.

You have great writing talent, Ajdos! Great read. My attention span is admittedly short, but I couldn't stop reading :headbang:
Thanks race, its really hard to come up with original ideas Im finding, I have a lot of respect for writers who are both good and productive. Im glad you enjoyed it.
 

sazo75

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strong as an ox incline benching, squatting, and deadlifting all that weight, but not strong enough mentally to ask a girl out, what a puss.

Good story though, I think we've all had times where we look back at it now and realize that the person we had feelings for probably felt the same way but we never grew a pair and did anything about it. Thank god I learned to say fk it whatever happens happens, kind of like in the story how he felt about the weight even though he knew his body really wasn't healthy for the heavy incline benching.
 

Cerberus777

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Wow, You must have taken a little bit of yours and everyone here soul, and made a story we can relate to. Thank you, I needed to read that tonight.
 

ajdos

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strong as an ox incline benching, squatting, and deadlifting all that weight, but not strong enough mentally to ask a girl out, what a puss.

Good story though, I think we've all had times where we look back at it now and realize that the person we had feelings for probably felt the same way but we never grew a pair and did anything about it. Thank god I learned to say fk it whatever happens happens, kind of like in the story how he felt about the weight even though he knew his body really wasn't healthy for the heavy incline benching.
Great observation and the truth, thats a big core component of my story.

I enjoyed that buddy.
Glad you liked it bro.

Wow, You must have taken a little bit of yours and everyone here soul, and made a story we can relate to. Thank you, I needed to read that tonight.
I did, I pieced together several peoples stories and lives to come up with the whole picture.
 

flexdurden

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I really liked that...

What I took away from that is we have certain areas of our life that we can control and being in control and focusing on that singular aspect of our life provides comfort and allows us to block out the real issues that we are hiding from. Rather than confronting the issues that make us uncomfortable and have the potential to lead to great experiences, we shirk away in what what know and hide from taking risks and truly living.

Life is what what you make of it...

Good story
 

ajdos

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I really liked that...

What I took away from that is we have certain areas of our life that we can control and being in control and focusing on that singular aspect of our life provides comfort and allows us to block out the real issues that we are hiding from. Rather than confronting the issues that make us uncomfortable and have the potential to lead to great experiences, we shirk away in what what know and hide from taking risks and truly living.

Life is what what you make of it...

Good story

Good observation.
Bodybuilding makes us very self critical, we are always in introspection mode and looking at our lives as if we are judging our physiques. The standards that drive us to perfection with our physiques also leach into our other areas of life.
Truth be told that we often times hold ourselves to ultra high unobtainable standards- just like we do in bodybuilding.
For example, how many times have you thought about looking like IFBB pro 'X' ? The guy with one in 10 million genetics, that most people simply will never achieve no matter how hard or smart they do it.
Then we compare ourselves to those of us around us who have been successful and havent made big mistakes like some of us have. The comparison is the same losing scenario.
What I found is in bodybuilding people thought I was fucking amazing, I thought I was shit.
In life I didnt give myself a chance very often and thought again that I wasnt good enough, and in reality people thought highly of me. I took me going to prison to see that.
Bodybuilding brings positives and negatives into our self perception and its important to learn how to balance them out.
 

flexdurden

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Good observation.
Bodybuilding makes us very self critical, we are always in introspection mode and looking at our lives as if we are judging our physiques. The standards that drive us to perfection with our physiques also leach into our other areas of life.
Truth be told that we often times hold ourselves to ultra high unobtainable standards- just like we do in bodybuilding.
For example, how many times have you thought about looking like IFBB pro 'X' ? The guy with one in 10 million genetics, that most people simply will never achieve no matter how hard or smart they do it.
Then we compare ourselves to those of us around us who have been successful and havent made big mistakes like some of us have. The comparison is the same losing scenario.
What I found is in bodybuilding people thought I was fucking amazing, I thought I was shit.
In life I didnt give myself a chance very often and thought again that I wasnt good enough, and in reality people thought highly of me. I took me going to prison to see that.
Bodybuilding brings positives and negatives into our self perception and its important to learn how to balance them out.

Another way to look at that is, don't allow yourself to be defined by what you do. Know who you are on the inside and get to know yourself and what makes you happy. Use the things you do to live out what you value but don't let them define who you are. For example, if you value adventure, you might become an avid skydiver, but is that all you live for? No. You experiences, hobbies, passions...etc. are pieces of your life and it takes a lot of pieces to make up the whole. Use those pieces to create balance and to cultivate the many layers that make up who you are. The more layers you can add to yourself the more areas of life that you will be able to experience joy.
 

Wanderer

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I enjoyed reading it. Thanks for sharing. The imagery you invoke is excellent. I'm there in the gym and can see and feel it all.
 

PitbullTank

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I never knew u did these... I went and read the "craig" story.... was excellent as well... do you have any more around?
 

ajdos

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I never knew u did these... I went and read the "craig" story.... was excellent as well... do you have any more around?

I had about 4 others I posted over the years, but they were on forums that went defunct and on my old computer which shit the biskit.

I think I may have some archived on my old forum.

"the lifter" was another one I had, Ill see if I can find it, I think its still there on my old place.
 

ajdos

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