Rage

[xythan_shadow]

I know not many people will believe this. Hell, I KNOW I wouldn?t if it hadn?t happened to me. I mean, the changes have been so unimaginable, so extreme, it borders on the realm of fantasy. I look at myself now and think of what it was like and even I have trouble believing it. But I?m getting ahead of myself.

It all started around two years ago. I had just turned 28 and I was finally stable enough to start working to my life-long dream. I wanted to be huge. I?m not talking about bodybuilder huge or lineman huge. I?m talking about the type of huge that makes people do a double and sometimes a triple take. I?m talking about the kinda huge that makes a sea of people part like you were Moses. I?m talking about being so huge that you can?t squeeze through doors sideways. H-U-G-E. Mind-blowingly, pants shredding, traps up to your ears, no-neck having, XXXL shirt ripping, muscle on top of muscle huge. Just thinking about being that size made me get hard so quick.

Back then though, I was nothing compared to what I am now. I was the stereotypical geek. I was pudgy all over and never played a sport in my life. But thankfully, I had brains. As much as I hated being the geek instead of the jock, being the geek did make me rich. And after I got rich, I started on the journey to my dream.

I also was shy and introverted. Even now, I laugh at that. I was so hung up on how I looked and how everyone was better than me, I would shrink anytime someone with some pumped up muscle would come near me. As much as I lusted over them, I would never even hint at my attraction to the power and physique they had. Man, how things have changed.

It was one fateful day that I was in the gym. I had gotten a plan from a really nice trainer, who was amazingly well put together, and I was working hard. It was a high-rep, low-weight training regiment that always left me tired at the end. But that day was completely different. The night before, I had the privilege to see a bench press competition. It was so amazing. Guys that I would?ve killed to had a few moments with alone packed the bar that was hosting. People that had chests that had to be 70? around and arms the size of some people?s legs were lined up along the wall and I had to conjure up every ounce of self control to keep from drooling.

The three hour event was spectacular. After the first flight, which were the lightweights finished, the big boys came out to play. There was not a man there under 225 lbs. Even the spotters were huge. Stud after stud went to the bench and laid down, their massive chests heaving with anticipation. Then they unracked weights that I couldn?t even imagine rolling across the floor and did bench presses with it. I was painfully aroused as the night went on.

One thing that stuck with me the entire time was a combination of what the emcee was saying and what some of the competitors were doing. Occasionally, one of the guys would come up to the bench and his spotters would all huddle around him. There would be some yelling and even some slapping, hard I might add, before the beast would lie down and start his rep. Even the emcee would be screaming into the microphone, ?That?s right big dawg! Get mad! Get pumped!?

It intrigued me at the time, but I didn?t give it much thought because I was too enthralled in seeing pecs the size of watermelons threatening to burst from the tight shirts they seemed to wear. Only the next day did the memory come back.

I was standing in front of a cable pulley machine. I was on my second set of triceps pulldowns. The first set I had failed to get to twenty and I was extremely upset. It was the same amount of weight I had done last week and I could do three sets of twenty, so why couldn?t I do one set. It was putting a major league damper on my workout. Then I thought about what the guys were doing. Not the slapping in the face thing, I wasn?t ready for that level of intensity, but the getting mad part.

Now, I was a really?.what?s the word I wanna use here?controlled person. I didn?t get mad very often. There was only a few things that got under my skin, people not respecting our armed forces or public servants for example, but I couldn?t remember the last time something actually made me ?mad?. I remember times that I would feel something rising up in me but I would end up just pushing it down and controlling it.

I decided that today was going to be a good test. I looked at the weights, then at my arms, and I let myself get mad. I started by being angry at the weight. Then it shifted to anger at myself for letting the weight get the best of me. A familiar, yet unexplored feeling rose from the pit of my gut and I let it come to the surface. Instead of repressing it like I did so many times before, I let it engulf my entire being.

Something changed that day. I can see it now that I look back, but then, I didn?t quite understand. I just let it happen. I felt myself balling up my fists and I started to pace back and forth in front of the machine. ?HOW DARE I LET THIS MACHINE BEAT ME!? I screamed to myself. I reached back and punched the steel bar that held up the cable. It wasn?t a full power punch, but it was enough to make a distinct ringing sound. I didn?t even notice half of the guys near me turn to look.

I was about to go into my next set when one of them walked up to me. He was the biggest and had by far the nicest physique in the gym. He was also the man I idolized the most in the place. He came up to me and said, ?Hey man, whatcha doing? Hitting the weights??

I looked at him with rage flooding my senses and said, ?I let the weight beat me.?

?Oh ho ho ho! That?s right, get mad,? he said as he upped the weight 30 lbs. I growled at the machine and went to work. I got a good ten reps before I hit failure, then he switched the weight to something lower and I finished out my set. ?That?s the way to do it man!?

His praise meant to me a lot more than he would ever know. Anything I could do to garner praise from this man I would?ve had done. But I digress. I finished the set with a roar. Not a loud one, but a lot more than I would?ve done before. He grinned and then went back with his bodybuilder friends, leaving me to my exercises.

The rest of the day I was filled with an indescribable drive. Rage and anger fueled all my lifts. It wasn?t a huge or dramatic improvement, but I did have a better day than any day I had before. But at the end of the workout, I was still fuming with anger. I had nothing else to do but I was still angry at myself for the few times I let the weight beat me. I was pacing around aimlessly like a caged beast and hitting the heavy steel dumbbells with my fists. It was then that I tried to calm down. I stress the word ?tried.?

It took a little while but I calmed down a little. But every time I looked back at any of the weights, the rage overwhelmed me. It started to scare me at that point. In my mind I wanted to calm down, but I couldn?t. The big guy that helped me earlier saw me and said, ?What?s wrong man? Why ya still hitting shit??

I flatly responded, ?I can?t calm down.?

He simply laughed as if it were a joke, but I was panicking. I quickly raced off to the aerobic room where there was a heavy bag, snarling and spitting as I went. Thankfully, the gym wasn?t crowded at all, so I got no looks as I went. Once there, I wailed on it with all the force I could muster. Blow after blow of my bare fists pounded the bag until I was completely drained. I leaned against the bag and thought one more time about the weights beating me and the rage rose again, but not quite as strong as before. I battered the bag a little more until I felt ever trace of the rage drain from my being.

I finally stood up and went back into the main gym. Thankfully, I felt nothing trying to rise from the depths again. I sighed to myself as the big man walked by. ?You alright,? he said casually as he went to get some water.

?Yeah, I?m good now,? I replied. But inside of myself, I was completely lost in thought. I had never had anything like that happen before. Even if I did get angry, I could always bring myself under control within a few moments. But I had never been angry for so long or so helpless to control my rage. What had happened just then scared me beyond belief.

And thinking back, what scared me the most was that I liked it.

[arpeejay]

Great start! Of course, now I have a, uh, well, ya know, and no part 2 yet!

xoxo

Richard

[artwork314]

always enjoy your stories- love the combo of realistically described growth over time with a spiritual/psychological change. keep it up, this one is great so far.