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Thomas' Year of Growth (Long Short Story)


musclegin30

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Synopsis: An un-named narrator gives the firsthand account of his friend's growth from twig to big, over a span of one year. He wrote it down so it might serve as inspiration to skinny guys everywhere, looking to grow huge. 

 

January

            My roommate, Thomas, and I moved into our new apartment on January 1st. We had known each other since freshmen year of college and hit it off from the start, becoming close friends. After college we each moved back in with our respective families for a few years. When I was ready for independence from my parents, I suggested that he and I get a place together and he agreed.

            The apartment was spacious, over 1600 square feet with a big kitchen and living room, two bedrooms, and lots of storage space. It covered the whole second floor of a three-story house on a quiet suburban street. At $1900 a month, it wasn’t cheap, but we could manage it.

            Thomas and I shared a similar personality and tastes. We were both quiet liberals, who like superhero movies and reading good books. Physically, however, we were very different. I was white. He was of Indian descent, with skin the color of caramel. At 6 foot 4, I towered over his 5’ 7’’ frame. While I was no bodybuilder, I kept my body fit with calisthenics and was a solid 195 pounds. Thomas was a rail thin 120. He ate poorly and seldom worked out beyond the occasional pushups and sit-ups. He didn’t look sickly or anorexic, just plain skinny. 

            I was a lot stronger than him. When moving furniture into the place I was able to lift things, he could hardly budge: dressers, desks, hutches. If something required both of us, like a sofa, I would see him struggling at his end while I would hardly break a sweat.

            “Damn, what’s it feel like to walk around with that kind of strength,” he asked once.

            I laughed. “I’m not really that strong.”

            He looked at my physique, my sweaty shirt clinging to the modest muscle I had. “Well compared to me…”

            I tapped him on the back. “Compared to you, I’m the hulk!” I grabbed him playfully, putting one hand under his armpit and the other on his leg and began pressing him over my head. He was so light.

            “Woah, dude! Put me down!” He sounded a little annoyed.

            “Sorry, are you scared of heights?” I laughed. He smiled and shook his head.

            “Let’s finish moving this stuff Hercules,” Thomas said.

            Later that month I visited a tag sale and came away with a bunch of workout equipment: adjustable dumbbells that could go up to 80 pounds, resistance bands, a weight bench, and some chains. The lady running the sale gave me a great deal. $75 for the whole lot. I was ecstatic. Combined with the pullup bar and few weights I already had, it made a nice little home gym. It was perfect for me, since I never liked going to gyms. I put all the stuff in the living room and told Thomas he was free to use it whenever he liked.

            “Thanks, but I’m good,” he said, dismissive.

            One day I saw him attempt to lift one of the heavier weights. He yanked at it, getting it a couple of inches off the ground, before letting it drop back down.

            “Maybe you should start with the light ones,” I said. “Don’t want to strain yourself.”

            He looked up, startled, obviously not knowing I had been watching.

            “Oh, no. I wasn’t working out,” he said. “I was just curious how heavy they were. You use those for your chest?”

            “Nah, those are 50s. I can curl those,” I said. “I do chest presses with the 80s.”

            He nodded. “Cool.”

            Later that evening we were watching a movie. In one scene, a pair of muscular men were arm wrestling. Their thick, meaty biceps were bursting out of their sleeves. Thomas was wearing a sleeveless shirt, as he only did around the apartment (he would never dare display his spindly arms in public). I glanced over at him from time to time. He was looking at his arms and subtly flexing them on an off as if he were comparing them to the arms of the men on screen.

            “What do you think I’d look like with muscles like that?” He said, suddenly, while pointing toward the screen.

            “Well, personally I think all men look better with a little muscle on them, but as far as you building muscle like those guys, I don’t think you have the frame for it.”

            He was silent for a moment, them blurted out, “I’m tired of being a twig.”

            I was happy to hear him say that. I had often fantasized about what he would look like with a better physique and liked what my mind’s eye came up with.

            “Start eating more and lifting weights,” I said.

            “I think I will.” He looked down at his skinny arms again and flexed.

            I pulled my sleeve up, held my arm next to his and flexed. It was twice as wide as his and far more defined. “Maybe before the year is over, you’ll have guns like these.” I slapped my bicep and we shared a smile.

 

February

            Thomas started using my weights. He lifted the lightest ones I owned, the 20s and 25s, doing mostly curls, shoulder presses, lunges, and flies. His lifted six days a week, before or after work, but his workouts weren’t very organized or structured. I had designated days for each body part, making sure to hit each twice a week, with two rest days. I also made sure I was progressing in weight or rep count. Thomas, however, didn’t seem to have a plan. He just did a few reps of this exercise and a few reps of that exercise, hoping results would come like magic.

            “You gotta push yourself,” I told him.  “Workout to failure. Track what you’re doing and each week, go for a little more.”

            “I thought I was pushing myself.”

            “Your workouts are consistent, I’ll admit. Six days a week, never missing one. Impressive for someone who never worked out before,” I said, with a supportive tone, “but I think you’d see more progress if you worked out less often, but really killed it, to point where you’re sore the next day.”

            “I was working up to that.”

            “Sure, you were.” I patted him on the back, and laughed.

            “I’m serious. I just didn’t want to jump into it and go overboard,” Thomas said.

            “Do you want to get bigger?”

            “Yes.”

            “Then no excuse.” I walked him over to the weights. “Pick up those 25s. That’s what you’ve been using.”

            Thomas lifted the weights and held them at his side. He looked at me, wondering what was next.

            “Curl ‘em.”

            He did so.

            “Stop. It doesn’t look too difficult for you.”

            “They’re heavy,” he said.

            “But not heavy enough.” I put 35 pounds on the adjustable weights. “Here curl these.”

            Thomas lifted them up with a grunt. He pumped them up and down and I could tell he was working harder. His body was more tense. His face more strained.

            “Perfect!” I said.

            “These are really heavy.”

            “Exactly.” I looked down at him with a smile. “From now on the 20s and 25s are your warmup weights. I want you to add 5 to 10 pounds to all your lifts starting now.”

            “Wait a minute.” Thomas put the weights down. “I’m supposed to be warming up?”

            I face palmed. “Well, maybe not with these fly weight you were using, but once you start going heavier, I would definitely start warming up to avoid injury.”

            He nodded.

            “And let’s talk about your diet.”

            “What’s wrong with my diet?” He asked, “I’ve been eating more.”

            “That’s not saying much dude. I have a cousin in the second grade that eats more than you. Adding an extra bowl of Fruit Loops, or two extra donuts to your day isn’t going to cut it. Muscle is made of protein. You like chicken and beef, so eat more of that. You see what I eat.”

            “Yeah, well you’ve got 70 pounds on me.”

            “Thomas, Thomas, Thomas!” I slung an arm over his shoulder. “You’re not eating for the size you are, my friend. You’re eating for the size you want to be. A philosopher once said, ‘Eat big to get big.’”

            “And which philosopher was that?” Thomas smiled.

            “Swolistotle.”

            We shared a laugh.

            Thomas took my advice and one day he came home from the grocery store with bags of frozen chicken tenders, chicken nuggets, and meatballs. I would have preferred to see raw, whole foods but he didn’t know how to cook, so I understood why he got the ready-made stuff. He also ordered a 12-pound bag of chocolate mass gainer off of Amazon.

            During the last week of the month his workouts were intense. He pushed himself harder than he had all month, grunting like a beast, lifting as heavy as he could. His workouts were long, and he’d walk away from them soaked in sweat. The eating was a different story. He’d fill a plate with food and struggle to finish it, often letting the half-eaten plate sit in the refrigerator until the next day.

            “Just keep pushing yourself,” I said. “Eventually your stomach will stretch out.”

            “I don’t know man. I’ve never eaten this much fucking food in my life. It’s harder than the lifting.”

            I suggested he watch eating challenge videos on YouTube for inspiration. I also suggested the names of several fitness Youtubers I found knowledgeable and entertaining. He said he’d check them out. At the end of the month, he weighed himself on our bathroom scale and found that he had gained 2 pounds, now weighing 122. I knew it was probably just ‘water’ weight from the increased eating he had done in the last week, but he was so happy about it, I didn’t say anything to burst his bubble. I simply congratulated him. It was a start and I saw good things coming for him in March.

 

March 

            Thomas became obsessed with fitness youtubers, studying their habits and absorbing as much of their knowledge as possible. He read article after article on muscle growth, supplementation, diet, and weightlifting. It became his goal to find the most efficient techniques to build muscle and it looked like it was working. I saw him flexing shirtless in front of the large mirror in our living room. He was beginning to get quite toned.

            His meals increased each week. A bag of chicken that would have lasted him 2 weeks before, was now gone in 4 days.

            “How much protein are you getting?” I asked him one day in mid-March.

            “200 grams.”

            That was more than me. I was impressed watching him force down meal after meal, even when I could tell he didn’t want to. After a huge dinner, twice as big as any meal he would have eaten months ago, I would find him recline on the couch with a hand on his distended abdomen looking uncomfortable. And still, an hour later, I’d find him in the kitchen making a massive protein shake and chugging it down, determined to get more calories and protein in him. Determined to grow!

            He had taken my advice about working out hard and pushed himself 5 days a week, doing as many sets, with as much weight as he could lift. His shirts and sweatpants would be soaked through with sweat, clinging to his lean frame. His little muscles would be pumped to the max and aching. He said he kind of like the pain, however. It made him feel like he was doing something. Tearing down his muscle fibers, so he could build them back up bigger and stronger with all the food he was eating.

            By the end of the month, he was up an impressive 6 pounds. Now 128.

            “The newbie gains are starting to kick in now man,” I said. “Keep it up.”

            “Oh, I plan to.” He did a double bicep pose. “I’m hooked.”

            On the 31st he received a large box in the mail. He bought it into the kitchen and began emptying it on the counter. I watched in shock as he pulled out bottle after bottle and bag after bag of what must have been $350 in supplements. Creatine; BCAAs; Citrulline malate; nitric oxide; casein; Glutamine; and more.

            He turned to me and grinned. “I’m going for 8 pounds next month.”

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22 minutes ago, spacevlad said:

Very hot start and great concept. I have a friend who recently has had a similar sort of transformation and it’s been incredibly hot to watch

Glad you like it so far. Yeah, it's always hot to watch someone get bit by the growth bug and transform.

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It's cool to have a story like this!  I like it a lot, I can't wait to see the sequel.  special mention to the character called thomas.  My name is also Thomas and I also want to become huge! XD

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