Muscle Tweets

[Jaypat]

So, I’m at the gym tonight and I see this kid. His face says 16, but his body says older. He’s got big full round muscles that no 16-year-old has a right to have; they have way too much muscle maturity, more like a guy in his mid 20’s would have. So, I’m thinking he could be older and just have a young looking face. Or maybe he’s been working out since he was about 10. Or maybe he just has great genetics.

So, I’m trying to puzzle this out. How old is this guy? But I’m trying not to be too obvious. I don’t want to be caught staring at him like a total perv—in case he is 16. So I only look when he’s walking by and I let him walk in and out of my field of view without turning my head or eyes to follow him. And then at one point I finish a set, look up and catch him checking me out. He looks away quickly, but damn… I am completely stunned.

Then I think, “I must be doing something right.”

[gogothen77]

damn man that was hot

[cohzaku]

I've got a long ways to go before I'm even one third presentable (in my book, at any rate), but I have had a few guys checking me out, commenting on how big I've gotten since I started in the gym...Huge ego boost. Even better when it comes from the guys you're drooling over.

[Jaypat]

Cotton undershirts. I have a confession to make. Even though my upper body has grown noticeably since I started working out seriously, I still wear the same size undershirt. Why? I love the feel of the soft cotton cloth stretched tight across my bigger chest and wider back ? not to mention how the short sleeves hug my growing upper arms. I can be anywhere and feel the sensation of all that hard, heavy muscle just bulging out of me and bullying my shirt. What makes it even better is remembering when that same size shirt used to fit me loosely. It makes me keenly aware of just how much muscle I?ve put on, and that?s just awesome. It almost always puts a smile on my face.

And since it?s an undershirt, it?s all hidden. As long as my outside shirt fits well, I can walk around without looking like a self-absorbed, narcissistic muscle-phile ? which, of course, I am.

If only people would stop asking me what I?m grinning about. They?d just think I was crazy if I told them, ?Cotton undershirts.?

[toby182]

You're more than just a good writer....

[Jaypat]

Ok, I woke up this morning and my triceps were hurting… and I was very happy. Suddenly I had to ask myself, “When did this happen? When did I start being happy about pain?” Of course, you have to take into consideration the kind of pain. It has to be the right kind of pain. What you want is the burning you get after pushing your muscles just beyond their limit, forcing them to get bigger and stronger—and my muscles have been consistently getting bigger and stronger. What you don’t want is the stabbing pain you get from injuring them. Yesterday was triceps day at the gym, so this morning my triceps—and only my triceps—were sore with the right kind of pain.

It’s also important that only my triceps were sore. This wasn’t always the case after triceps day. Sometimes my shoulders and chest would be sore as well. But as I gain muscle mass, I’m finding it easier and easier to target only the muscle groups I’m working on, which in turn helps them get bigger and stronger more quickly and efficiently. It’s kind of an upward spiral. And the pain, of course, is an indication of that upward spiral in action, meaning my muscles are growing bigger and stronger and the pain is me feeling it happen. I’m actually feeling it happen—that’s what makes me happy. Fuck, it excites me.

I mentioned it to my workout partner – who is incidentally an Adonis—my amazement at being happy I was in pain, and how I was wondering when that started. He was very blas? about it, saying that usually happens just a few months into working out. Of course, I’m way more than a few months into working out, but then I realize I’ve also been happy about pain for some time now. Then again, my workout partner is built like a tank, and has been since high school. This is a man who had 18 inch arms when he was 16 years old. Sometimes I think he forgets the wonder of these moments of revelation.