My fitness has still been on point from making the gym a priority again and my reflection although still not so defined was swole, maybe even to swole, I was beginning to look like a cloud. Nevertheless I was reasonably happy with what looked back at me in the mirror. But like MJ said, I just needed to make a change, I needed to get into a calorie deficit and get rid of the fluff.
So I decided to do a mini cut for this and figured I’d coincide it with the hopes of taking a moderately good photograph. The type of picture you can look back in old age and be proud of how you looked in your youth. The type of picture you can show your grandkids and say yeah, I was quite something back then even if I did have a silly haircut.
I began reading up on the best way to dehydrate the body to accentuate muscle definition. I already knew water manipulation was how competing bodybuilders got so shredded on stage. If I wanted to get ripped fast before Christmas this would be the best way to do it. I’d not be oiling myself up though or putting on four layers of fake tan like they do in those competitions. I wanted to impress the grandkids not scare them into thinking I was some slimy looking chiselled turd of a man.
The idea with the water is to get rid it, which causes the skin to shrink wrap around the muscles. This was no easy feat and it was more complicated than I anticipated. Ironically the best procedure to do this is to starve the body of carbohydrates while drinking lots of water, followed by suddenly doing a one eighty and having zero water and lots of carbs, thus causing a kind of sponge effect. All the excess water would be soaked up by the carbs, taking the water from under the skin and making the muscles look fuller and more defined. Less like a cloud, more like a Greek god. Or at least that was the idea anyway. Although for all we know Greek gods could really have been fat slobs that sat on Mount Olympus dipping their grapes into melted chocolate with a side of Ben and Jerry’s.
The first three days were a breeze, I was already eating a high protein low carb diet, all I really had to do was cut my carbs down to less than fifty grams a day. Then drink as much water as possible.
The water was a bit more tricky. I managed to get it up to close to five litres a day but any more and I may as well have stood by the toilet all day long. My belly felt like I was smuggling a watermelon, how I would ever unearth any form of six pack underneath the thing beggered belief but I continued on with the protocol.
Next came a fasting stage, no food for a day, just more water. I kept pouring it in. I should have bought one of those hats you can fit a can to the top of, with the pipe coming down to suck on relentlessly, it would have saved trips to the kitchen tap.
I thought the fast would be easy like the one I did a few months ago, but for some reason I found it harder than before. Perhaps it was the lack of carbs beforehand but I managed to resist temptation. I resisted even looking at food, and tried my best not to think about it. I went to bed early on that fourth day just so I could take my mind of it. Sleeping can be a wonderful distraction sometimes.
On the morning of the fifth day I broke the fast with a banana and a slice of white bread toasted. It would be a day of eating potatoes white rice and sugary snacks. I just had one small glass full of water on the morning and nothing for the rest if the day. Potatoes. Rice. Rice. Potatoes. A very dull day of food apart from the curly wurley chocolate bar on the evening.
I opened my eyes the following morning and looked down not really sure about what I expected to see. I hoped to see some noticeable definition but it was hard to tell under the covers. I ignored the morning wood and waited for it to go down so I could get to the bathroom mirror without any startled stares if I bumped into my housemate Michael.
I was a bit disappointed really, I didn’t look dramatically different. Just slimmer and a little more defined. It was very anti-climactic. I had some fruit to help plump up the carbs more and begin a high repetition workout to get the blood pumping for a more noticeable change. The workout still didn’t make any big changes but I figured I’d get a picture taken anyway since I’d went to all the trouble of spending a week preparing for it.
Knowing I’d not got anywhere near the level I’d hoped to be, the photoshoot just became an hour of tomfoolery with some hysterical moments caught on camera. Oh well, maybe I wouldn’t get the chance to look back and a have a physique to be truly proud of but I’d still get to look back and smile at the fun I had trying.