At 40 years old, there’s never been a point in my life where I would say I was a “gym rat” per se. But I have gone to the gym on and off over the years. I played various sports as a kid. And even went hard core once just to prove to myself that I could get below 10% body fat… Just so you know, if your body isn’t built for that kind of skinny, IT SUUUUUUCKS trying to get and stay there.
But all of that was a long time ago.
In any case, with increased age, weight and other health issues beginning to take their toll, I decided that I was going to go back to the gym, and for good this time. At over 200lbs and not being able to lose it due to poor diet, drinking, smoking, barely doing anything remotely active, and a work-from-home job (not to mention dropping lbs when you’re older is less-than-easy) – I decided if I’m going to be this big, I may as well try to be a beefcake. Along with it, I figured I’d put my two cents in on my real-world results; mainly because I couldn’t get a straight answer to anything I wanted to know. So here goes.
DISCLAIMER:
By no means do I suggest, recommend, or even endorse, any of the following. This is just me sharing where I’m at and what I’m doing in regards to diet, lifestyle and exercise. I am not a nutritionist, doctor, exercise or health professional in any regard. I’m a healthy person only in the context that I am ambulatory and not yet deceased. DO NOT use this as a reference for planning your own lifestyle.
Vitals:
I’m closing in on week 4 of what I intend to make a permeant part of my life. I’m a white male, 40, 206lbs, 5’10” (if I don’t slouch), 38″ waste (mostly spare tire) and a mesomorph body type. I can lift more than 50lbs from the floor to my chest and I can run if I’m being chased by rabid wildlife.
Diet:
My diet consists of mostly chicken and red meat in various forms; cold cuts; cheese; some veggies; water from sources like beer, liquor, diet soda and coffee; and dining out twice a week with no fucks given. I don’t keep to a food regimen, rather I just eat whenever. And I’d wager most of my calories and almost all my carbs come from beer… I love beer… crazy craft beer… lots of it. I probably drink somewhere in the neighborhood of 3-5 beers a night about 3 or 4 nights a week. I drink water when it’s there or I’m hungover. I make use of energy drinks opportunistically.
Fat and Habits:
My fat distribution is all gut and obliques, down into upper thighs and caboose. Thin/common layers of fat everywhere else. I don’t really collect fat in my arms, chest, lower legs or under my chin. I smoke about a pack of Kyte Tobacco with filtered tubes every day and a half to two days. I don’t use drugs (which includes pot).
Workout:
I’ve been going to the gym about 4 days a week.
Monday is chest and triceps; Tuesday is back and biceps; Wednesday shoulders and light core; Thursday off; Friday legs; Saturday and Sunday off.
I begin every workout with roughly 15 minutes on a level treadmill – Walk 4.0/mph; Run 6.0/mph; Walk 4.0/mph – 5 minutes respectively.
Weight training consists of standard workouts (the classic ones you can find all over the internet – Bench press, curls, leg press, etc); weights heavy enough to support 3 sets of 5 reps. I try to do at least 3 workouts for most body parts. e.g. For chest I do Inclined press, Inclined flys and Classic press.
Each week I’ve tried to up my weight by 5lbs or more.
Results:
So here’s what’s been happening over all. The first week, EVERYTHING HURT EVERY DAY. I was aching and crying for my Mama. I stretched and forced my arms above my head in order to wash my hair. By the end of the week I gained 2 lbs.
Week two was much easier pain wise, although new exercises resulted in new aches. All the parts not covered in considerable fat began to present themselves more. They weren’t defined, but I now had pecs beneath my budding man-boobs. I was noticing that I was emotionally more level. Big issues didn’t seems as big and waking up in the morning didn’t suck as much… same for going to sleep. I dropped my coffee intake by 2 cups (bringing it down to 6 cups a day). By the end of week two, I gained yet another 2 lbs.
Week three I fell into a groove. I was hitting the weights like a beast and was less afraid to challenge myself to failure. Though I still asked for help if I was on free weights. My debit card number got jacked, my account got drained, and I went to the bank broke with a fucking smile on my face. I noticed problems weren’t problems at all. Whatever it was, it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle. I wasn’t depressed, though I still had negative thoughts popping up. I went out the other night and felt completely satiated after two beers. Then (unheard of) I turned down free shots. All of the above just “happened” without conscious intention.
Looking in the mirror made me smile. I still had the spare tire, but my stomach didn’t have that pregnant appearance. My budding man-breasts stopped budding. And what’s this? I have guns???
By the end of the week I had gained still another 2 lbs.
I’m now 6 lbs. heavier than when I began, and I don’t even care. I look far better than I did almost a month ago. I won’t say that I feel amazing, but I don’t feel like shit. The best word for my emotional state is “level”. I walk more slowly, with determination. I look strangers in the eye and smile… and they smile back. My voice has dropped half an octave. More than the walking, everything I do feels deliberate now. My brain feels clear. I’m curious to see what the next few weeks hold for me. I know I’ve made a lot of gains due to the fact that I haven’t worked out in a long time. I’m not deluding myself of that. But I’m confident that when I plateau, I’m going to be plenty satisfied with myself and my appearance. Oh – an interesting side effect – I look at any surface that offers a decent reflection. Maybe I’m becoming less depressed at the cost of becoming more narcissistic, but it’s a fair trade in my opinion.
Since I've Been Here 