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Brother, Can You Spare a Sleeve?
|Year three—Josh ballooned in size. Now, not only was he eating right and pushing himself at the gym, he started taking some sports supplements. Nothing illegal—just stuff like creatine and NO2. But it made a BIG difference. He started breaking all of his lifting records. By the end of the year, he had added 25 pounds to that massive frame of his. He had grown taller by about an inch, and with 200 pounds on his 5’9” frame, he was unstoppable on the wrestling mat.
Every workout, he seemed to get bigger and bigger. I confess I was having trouble covering all of that mass. Especially Josh’s arms—when he started college, they were probably 13 or 14 inches—very respectable for a freshman, and very lean and strong. With several years of heavy training and weight gain, they had GROWN—now they measured just over 19 inches, cold. When pumped, they easily broke the 20 inch mark.
One day, Josh decided he wanted those arms to break the 21 inch mark. So, he started the “double arm” session from Hell. He started with biceps. First, a few sets of preacher curls. Every time he curled up, the peak on his biceps seemed to get bigger and bigger. He moved on to dumbbell hammer curls. By his fourth set, he was curling those 50 pounders like they were nothing. Then, to really wear out his biceps, he finished with cable curls—using the entire weight stack. He moved on to triceps—bench dips to warm up, then skull crushers with the bar. His tris started filling with blood, getting more and more pumped with every rep. Josh wasn’t done, though—close grip tricep presses were next, and for good measure, he finished up with tricep cable pressdowns. By the time he finished, his horseshoe triceps looked like they were carved from granite. The veins on his arms were pulsing with power, and his arms were practically glowing with energy.
Josh picked up the tape measure and measured his right arm—only 20 7/8 inches. I was stretched to my limit—I could feel my seams unraveling. But Josh was not satisfied. “DAMN” he shouted, and he got this mad look on his face. He looked around the gym and walked over to the dumbbells.
He picked up a 40 pound dumbbell, sat down on a bench, and started squeezing out rep after rep of isolation curls, first with one arm, then the other. Three sets he did, first 12, then 15, then 20 reps with each arm. By the end, he was gasping for breath, and I could feel his arms fill with every possible ounce of blood. His skin looked like it was about to pop!
Josh measured his arms one more time—21 1/8 inches. “HELL YEAH!” he shouted. I was pleased also, until Josh reached up, grabbed both of my terribly overstuffed sleeves, gave one tremendous yank, and pulled both sleeves clean off and threw them across the room! There he stood, looking like a total jock, doing a double bicep spread that showed off how huge his arms had grown to everyone else in the gym. Nobody else even came close to his muscle.
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