To try to finally win the argument, I decided to add a picture of myself. I posted:
I was a fat and completely inactive child and teenager. When I went away to college, I lost the fat, but I didn't become all that active. I had admired bodybuilders and fiddled very slightly with very light dumbbells occasionally as a teenager and did it a bit more when in college, but I didn't really get into it until I was almost 40. I'm now 63, so I've been lifting weights -- not often enough, not regularly enough, without enough self-discipline (sounds like my writing career!) -- for just about 25 years.
The attached picture shows the results. Please ignore the busy background and the embarrassed smile.
The point of this picture is that I've never used steroids and I started relatively late. I do (as far as I can tell) have good genes going for me. So a healthy young man, starting lifting in his teens or early twenties, with good genes, can expect much better results much more rapidly. There's no reason at all to assume use of
steroids.
Here's the picture:
6 comments:
Well, if your argument doesn't work, at least you could totally kick their asses.
Hah.
Or at least, make them think I will. They don't have to know I'm a physical coward.
All that's missing is a tatoo on one of the biceps.
Needles hurt, so I recommend the tattoo stickers kids often wear, that wash off in about like, six months!
I knew some very buff people, saw them occasionally in the gym as I studied the 'how to' charts on all those fangled contraptions. I didn't think steroids. I thought, those damn energy drinks.... and the occasional... clearly, from another planet...
And just think, now, you too can be accused of using steroids :)
Oops! My secret is out!
Now all I need is the magic youth pill. I've been waiting for that thing to show up for years, and as I get older and it doesn't appear on the market, I'm starting to get nervous.
Careful! With guns like that a recruiter might be calling, 63 or not.
Hah. Well, they can call, but they'll find a suddenly decrepit and utterly deaf fat, bald, old guy answering the door.
"What's that you say, sonny? Rack? Racket? Do I racket? Do I play racket ball? Not for yeeaars! Not since my knees, hips, back, eyes, and ears gave out. Heh, heh, heh. Snort, snurfle, ouch. Where the Hell's my heart medicine?"
Post a Comment