Fat is where it's at!

We have to go way back to get some understanding on this one.

Back in 2000, when we were skeletons and I was almost ripped, Adipose had just sold his gym and was going for his—literally—all for broke, make it or break it, in powerlifiting. Now, in order to complete his master plan, he had to dissolve all ties. I know this is silly, but this is how the man thinks.

To do this, and to break the ties that bind with his training partners at the time, he got mad one day after we decided to start training without him. He used this episode to make his great escape from commercial gym hell (in his bipolar brain) and train at his house. I later named this the “Gay-rage.”

With total separation, he sought Louie's advice on getting better. Louie told him that this wasn't bodybuilding, and for his frame, he should weigh 300+ pounds. I don't think Louie ever meant the 375 pounds or whatever he said he was, but off he went—cutting the number of meals but increasing the crappiness of the meals. After lots of Dove bars and you name it, he had ballooned to over 300 pounds rather quickly.

We have always been highly competitive; therefore, so as not to be outdone in powerlifting (or anything else), I began my diet of Little Debbie's, Snickers, and Reese's cups. Put it this way, the documentary, SuperSize Me, ain't got shit on me from back then. On one side of my bed (and this is no joke), there were plastic wrappers from cakes and candy at least a foot and a half high. That’s the honest truth.

We still weren't talking (and hadn't for about a year and a half), so this was all second hand, and you know how that gets twisted. We would send jokes back and forth—I called his place the “Gay-rage” and he called the gym "Total Failure." (It was Total Gym at the time, minus Chuck Norris and all that money).

So, after the first six months, I was up to 220 pounds or so. Fat, but not too sloppy yet. However, six months later (and with the help of Wendy's, Burger King, Chick-Fil-A, and many more cookies and cakes), I got up to 240 pounds. I was nice and sloppy, but my body caught up with some muscle (about eight pounds or so), so it wasn't too bad then. And, since my lifts kept going up, I continued my blistering weight gain. Six more months later, and with lots of heavy breathing, I was up to 260 pounds. By this time we had all made up (isn't that sweet) and were training together again. Plus, we had all had some good successes, so "why stop there," I thought? Why be in the middle of a weight class when you can be at the end of it? 275 pounds or bust!

Well, 275 pounds came and went over the next year or so—after I added in Taco Bell and Moose Tracks ice cream (a delightful concoction of vanilla ice cream, fudge tracks swirling through the cream like oil reserves in the ground, and mini peanut butter cups). Oh, and I must thank Nabisco for Double Stuf Oreos and Nutter Butter Sandwich Cookies. And thank God I was adding muscle as I went—I think it was my body's reaction to try and comb at the giant fatness I was working on.

I busted 275 pounds easily in 2003, and for some reason, 285 to 290 pounds was my sticking point for about a year and a half. Then, I figured what the f$*??, go for the record...Break 300. However, 300 pounds was the hardest. I continued with my usual routine, but I needed a little more. So I added fast food twice a day. (Hardee’s came out with their low carb breakfast bowl—bacon, sausage, eggs, and cheese. All the food groups were covered...and I think they cooked it with liposuctioned fat asses).

So at 300 pounds, the chairs in my gym starting bending, and I think I was close to getting an oxygen tank. My stomach stuck out from under both a 2XL and a 3XL shirt, and my shorts began to slip further down my gigantic ass, showing my dirty cheeks...‘cause wiping thoroughly with alligator arms is almost impossible.

However, in order not to be a Super with my good friend and great influence, Don, I had to start cleaning up my act and go back to my old, clean days of eating and actually doing some cardio (sled work).

Now, I am back down to 280 pounds (reluctantly), but I feel better. I’m only allowed to eat out and have sweets once a week. My new thing is TGIFriday's. They have giant Oreo cookies with vanilla ice cream filling (mmm…mmm...filling). And they give you caramel and fudge packs to put on them. Brilliant!! I get it all in one!

Well, that's my story of reaching your ultimate powerlifting goals and knocking about three to four years off your life in the process. But, if you can't enjoy yourself, then why bother.