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The Edge - Part 2 - It'll All Workout


Swoldier

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The Edge - Part 2 - It'll All Workout

 

“It's a guy thing really means There's no rational thought pattern connected with it and you can't make it logical.”

– Nikhil Saluja

 

My brain imploded.  That’s all I can think to say.  I leave my apartment, my roommate is…well… my roommate.  I come back to a surfer beach boy calling himself my roommate who then spasms into one of the biggest bodybuilders I’ve ever seen in my life.

 

I looked the behemoth over.  Delts impossibly wide, as the veins traced over biceps the size of footballs.  They had to be at least 22 inches.  His chest was huge and piled with so much mass that his nipples were pointing straight down to the floor.  As he looked at me anticipating an answer, one of them involuntarily bounced.  The impossible cleft between his pecs led down to a gnarly 8 pack of concentrated muscle.  It didn’t stick out quite as much as a roid gut, but it was enough to give a slight curving convex protrusion to his torso.  Veins snaked out around the cobblestones framing a bellybutton that was just slightly now an outie.

 

He spasmed again, and this time I heard Eddie’s voice “Dude, what’s happening to me?”  I was too dumbfounded to speak as he sat up and took stock of what was now the body he inhabited.  A look of utter horror and concern swept over his face.  “No. No, no, no. I don’t want to look like this!” he screamed as he lifted up his arms, looking himself over. The very act causing his biceps to bunch up and flex without him even meaning to.  He was now quite simply a mountain of muscle.  Hardly any fat, around 5’ 11” and easily 280 pounds.  My roommate was an alpha male by definition, in fact I’d say he was _the_ alpha male.

 

I walked over to his hulkish form.

 

“Dude, I don’t know how long I’ll be ‘me’ this time,” there was a look of genuine concern and fear in his eyes. “This started right around finals, I kept getting darker, like I was getting a tan, and I started getting muscle, Real muscle.” Eddie was gushing at this point, like his life depended on it.

 

“It’s ok, slow down.” I was trying to offer comfort, but wasn’t really sure how to do that in this specific situation. “You know, most guys wouldn’t mind that so much.”

 

“It wasn’t just the muscles and the tan, though,” he was calming down just slightly, “‘I’ was different. I’m mean I still knew who I was, who you were, that stuff, but I didn’t know anything about my education, or anything else. All I knew was working out and trying to get fit.”

 

I wanted to help him, but this sounded just a bit too strange to me.  Of course I did just see my formerly frail, thin roommate hulk out into a beast that any supplement company would hire on the spot.

 

He looked down at himself again, “And whatever I just turned into, he only knows how to lift, eat like a motherfucker, and get fuckin’ HUGE, Bro! You ready?” Eddie’s voice morphed into the cocky baritone that shook me to my core.

 

“And who are you?” I asked rather timidly in front of this muscle god.

 

“Fuckin’ A, bro, I’m Eddie, I just told you what happened!” the inquisitive eyes and hair were still his, but he’d be replaced with this brute. “Now let’s cut the shit and fuckin LIFT!” he raised a double-bi and smiled a cocky grin to drive home his point.

 

I looked at the man, shirtless, and with the tatters of what I assume were board shorts over his immense legs.  “Eddie, you’re not a bodybuilder, you don’t know the difference between a barbell and a dumbbell.  You’re an engineer!”

 

“A fuckin’ In-Gin- what?” he looked confused, “Bro, the only thing I know is liftin’ and growin’, and I’m gettin’ ready to go do both!’

 

He bounded out of the door.  I was a bit confused, still, but I figured I couldn’t let whoever Eddie had become out on the town by himself, so I chased after.

 

Neither one of us had a gym membership….anywhere, so we went down to the local recreation center where they had some minimal weight equipment.  We paid the day pass - with the security guard staring at Eddie with eyes as big as pies.  Eddie noticed and flexed an arm at the guy with a cocky grin as he walked past.  I’d managed to convince Eddie to go buy some workout clothing before we went to the center.  I really think he would have just worked out naked, but we found a tank top that he could get over his mountains of a chest, and some shorts that he could work out in.  The shorts were lycra, simply because he couldn’t fit his thighs into anything that didn’t stretch, and as he said “I’m gonna fuckin’ squat, and I ain’t chafin’!"

 

We stepped into the weight area.  There were your basic stereotypes - the gym rat either in high school or just out that was wearing a sleeveless shirt on his too thin frame.  The 50 year old ex athlete that was desperately trying to stay in shape. And the group of athletes that were just there to flex in the mirrors and try to get enough of a pump to go pick up girls at some mall.

 

Eddie went and grabbed a towel, and started in on his arms, like he’d been doing it all his life.  I grabbed a towel and walked up behind him.  “How do you know what to do?”

 

“Bro, I been doing this my whole life.  How the fuck you think I got this body?” His eyes didn’t even register me.  He was so into his set.  He kept pounding out rep after rep after rep.  He got toward the end and accentuated each pump of his huge arms with a grunt.  The final few he grunted so loud a couple of the teens looked over his way.  The final rep done, he put the dumbbells down and flexed a double bicep pose.  “Fuck yes! These weights are too light though. I’m used to heavier.”

 

I was a little confused since Eddie had never lifted a weight in his life, but I wasn’t going to argue with whoever this was that my roommate had turned into.  We moved from station to station, Eddie growing with the pump of working out at each station.  The teens looking on in awe and usually going to the station we’d just left to try to imitate the last exercise Eddie did.  After each set, he’d get this blissful look on his face, it was odd - like he was enjoying lifting.  Really enjoying it - like need a cigarette afterwards enjoying it.

 

The weight room was dirty, I thought.  No cleaning spray, and Eddie wasn’t a great practitioner of gym etiquette.  He sweated like a pig, and as big as he was now, that was a lot of sweat, and would just walk off from one station to another without wiping it down.  To be fair, it didn’t look like a whole lot of people paid attention to hygiene here, so I just let it go.

 

We finally ended at a power rack set up for a bench press.  I sat my towel on the ground next to it as I walked up to help Eddie load the bar.  He sneezed, wiped his face, then draped his towel over the stop bars set up to catch the barbell if he accidentally dropped it.

 

“Alright, fuck this is the most weight I’ve ever tried.  Gotta do it to get these slabs growin’!” He hit his pecs with his fists, a hollow thud emanating.  “I need you to spot me, bro.”  He laid down on the bench.

 

“That’s at least 415 pounds on that bar! How exactly am I supposed to ‘spot’ you with that!”

 

He didn’t hear me, or at least didn’t acknowledge, and lay down on the bench. With a significant amount of grunting and posturing, he positioned his hands deliberately on the bar, somehow, and got ready.  He pushed up, the bar raised and the first 4 or 5 reps looked good.  The 6th was a little shaky.

 

“Dude, that’s enough.”

 

The 7th was really shaky.

 

“Seriously, put it up, rack or whatever it is you call it.”

 

The 8th went down…and came back up half way….and stalled.  Eddie grunted, then yelled.  I tried my best to help him, but the bar was way out of my league, I had no hope of helping him.  It dropped an inch, Eddie caught it.  I pulled as hard as I could up, and somehow we got it back in its resting point.

 

“Fuck, bro! What the fuck was that! I told you to spot me!”

 

“And I told you, I couldn’t lift weight anywhere near that much!” I yelled back as I picked my towel off the stop bar and wiped my face down.

 

Eddie sniffed a bit and sneezed. “Fuck, bro, I need ya to get with the program, get some size on ya. You’re so wimpy!”  He looked around and sneezed again. “Hand me my towel, bro, I can’t get rid of this damn cold.”

 

I was in the middle of wiping the plethora of sweat off my face when I looked and saw my towel on the floor where I'd left it.

 

"Ew! Here it is!" I threw Eddie his towel, "and thanks to you, I'm probably going to get sick now, too."

 

"Don't be such a wuss,” his face contorted, "Oh god! why did you let me get these shorts! As if the body weren't showy enough!"

 

"It's what you wanted."

 

"I told you, it's not me that wants this crap.  I just want to go back to normal." He looked exhausted and a bit confused. "Can we just go home, a gym just really isn't my kind of place."

 

"I need to stop by the store on the way, pick up some Vitamin C.  I'm not catching whatever it is you have."

 

We got up and walked out.  I went to go wipe up the sweat and god knows what else Eddie had left on the bench, but before I could get back to it, the teens had already started taking turns on it, trying to push the weight Eddie had done. I'll never understand why anyone would want to look like a bodybuilder.

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